The sun was shining today, but mostly I’ve been sitting on the couch, writing.
I went out for a short walk, though, down to the lake. It was just below freezing, I think, because there was frost on the ground, and the ice on the lake was not shiny.
There were sounds, of water moving underneath. Carried across the lake, growing and shrinking. Sometimes sudden, loud, cracks, clanging bells. At others, long and soft, like a mellow, wintry song.
I’ve been working more or less all day. But I haven’t gotten much done. I’m still waiting for focus to arrive.
Katja Malmborg 