Quiet

I appear to have misplaced my words. As a story teller and professional writer, you can probably imagine how much this distresses me. I've been reluctant to journal, avoiding work and staring at the 'add post' button for days on this blog. 

As a writer and editor I fuss with words. I practice how they sound on the tip of my tongue and I almost certainly have favourites ('ponder' ranks highly in case you were wondering). Not having words is one of the deadliest of afflictions that I can think of. 

In the absence of words, I often turn to my trusted camera and look for moments in the day that might trigger a cascade of words I might not have thought of otherwise. I know things have got really bad when I'm not looking. 

I haven't been looking. 

So today, when I saw a daisy, collected by my daughter, and I wondered how to snap it I felt a glimmer of hope. The despondency might lift yet and I might achieve something this week. Anything would be pretty good at this point, I have to be honest. There's a press release and bio burning a hole in my head, an article that needs tweaking and I need to say something on here right?

Well apparently my daughter's first treasure was the catalyst. An afternoon that was meant to be dire thanks to a predicted downpour was saved by unexpected sun. The rain just never came. So we took our chances and zipped to the swings near the house (just in case, let's not be silly now) and the Tot walked up and down steps for 15 minutes. This is her current favourite thing to do and I'm happy to indulge it because if a skill is worth having, it's worth practising, right? 

Anyway, on the way home she notices daisies for the first time. She toddler squats (you know the one) and examines them for a long time. I pluck one and show her how soft it feels, the colours and the ways you can twirl it in your fingers. Delighted, she carried it all the way home and prompted me to pick up my much maligned camera. 

Funny little things these toddlers. They have a habit of showing you the way.