The point

I just looked out the window and saw the leaves of the tree on the right have flushed a brilliant yellow, and it's glowing beautifully out there in the sunny autumn day.  The shadow of the leaves is glittering on the floor of my apartment, giving it a gleeful party atmosphere tempered with the lingering awareness that this is the party we throw before winter, before death creeps over all these plants and the air and the sky.

Then I came to attempt to describe it and for several minutes, I was unable to convince myself I had anything interesting to say about it.  It's a just a tree whose leaves have turned.  Outside my window.  Who cares?  I skittered back away from writing it down and went hunting for funny pictures of cats to amuse my brain, to fill the impulse I have to write something down.

Clearly, I eventually vaulted over such reservations, but it took a battle, and it took reminding myself that by writing this here, I'm not bothering anyone.  No one is required to read this blog - hell, for the most part, no one does read it.  Why not leave myself a marker for my day, a reminder that today I noticed something outside my very own window and it was beautiful?

Well, no reason, obviously.  But it's not exactly enough.  I want to write something I would share with others, want this to be a place someone would happen upon and stick around because they found it charming, or entertaining or informative.

But either I end up judging attempts so harshly that I stall every attempt to write a line or I let myself freewheel into eddies I cringe to read later.

So that's the fight going on over here.  It's a hundred years war, absolutely.  Luck to you all on yours.