A mature writer finds an agent, gets a publisher and goes on tour: Exploding Light

Today is one of those totally blow-your-mind beautiful days on the North Shore – the sky blue, blue without a cloud, the sun's rays striking Lake Superior with such force that the light seems to explode on hitting the water, "sun-drops" my husband Bill called them this morning as we sat on the swing gazing at the water. The temperature is totally perfect, somewhere in the mid 60-degrees with a lovely breeze thrusting bugs out of the picture (at least those that have any idea of alighting for a quick snack).

We usually spend Saturday morning hosting a Centering Prayer group at our home (we read a psalm, then meditate for around ½ hour, and afterwards sit around sipping tea and discussing spirituality or other issues that rise to the surface). This morning, because no one could make it to centering prayer, my husband and I walked the labyrinth instead. While I've been off book "touring" Bill has spent the last month building this labyrinth and I love it. Our "Bill-built" labyrinth was not created on the tight geometrically precise patterns of labyrinths found in cathedrals or monasteries, but conforms to the topography of our land. It winds through a rather unkempt field of wild grasses and flowers and tiny mountain ash trees we planted to attract birds. The lupines are so profuse that they swaddle our labyrinth in calf-high jungle of fanning leaves and inverted-cones of purple and pink blossoms.

It is hard to leave the North Shore on such a day for more "book" stuff, especially when it entails a five hours drive in traffic into more traffic back to Minneapolis. This was the kind of day when we first saw this house and fell in love with the view and on mad impulse put down a security payment so that we could live here year-round, even though we knew that moving here would entail months of winters that sometimes seem to run on forever. That's why  I'm putting off leaving as long as I can -- writing this post that I would otherwise put-off until I get back on Tuesday. Through my open window, I can see and listen to Lake Superior as it washes our ledge-rock in jeweled happiness. Maybe I'll even walk the labyrinth once more and then . . . well look, my husband has just made lunch and is serving it on the deck.

From Beryl's Blog