The ocean crashes against the cliffs in the distance. The sun warms from above. Sitting on an ancient stone wall that separates old clamed land in Ireland. A slight breeze drifts down from the mountains in the distance. The fragrances of heather and other wild flowers mix with fresh cut grass. The landscape is a patchwork of different greens as if a quilt was laid down over the earth. Maybe a glass of red wine, merlot or shiraz. Or even a sun brewed glass of ice tea. Animals such as cattle and horses graze near by. Beside me my numerous pens and paper await words of imagination.
Not impossible, but at the moment the dinning room table will do. Two dogs lay at my feet, hyperventilating due to a very severe thunderstorm. Lightening rips across the sky as thunder echoes loudly, shaking the windows and doors. The sound of Joe snoring along with the washing machine in the background grinds out quietness. The incense burns smoothly, adding a wonderful scent that helps relax.
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