At the risk of repeating myself, I love this time of year. So many of my stories have been born at this time of year. One in particular I remember writing when spring sprang. Beauty in Art. It’s a lighthearted piece inspired by my mother-in-law’s garden in springtime. I’m much too lazy to plant and tend a garden of my own, but I do enjoy a lovely, colorful mix of flowers and plants in spring.

Fortunately for me, other people around me aren’t as lazy and I can flower gaze to my heart’s content in the yards of my neighbors and friends as I drive by or visit. Today while admiring a friend’s daffodils, I started thinking about what inspires me. Of course, the words have to be there and I have to have the drive to put them on paper (or computer screen), but it helps to have a spark to get me going, and if I know where to find that spark, all the better for me. I thought I’d put down a few for posterity since I’m still playing the waiting game with my novel.

Things that inspire me in springtime:
1. Daffodils. Preferably a field of them. I love the yellow and green. I particularly remember one daffodil that sprang up, seemingly spontaneously, in the middle of the yard when I was a kid. I’ve admired them ever since.
2. Dogwoods. White ones, especially. They look like clouds when they are in bloom.
3. The beach. Sun sparkling on waves, warm breezes after a cold winter, little long-legged birds pecking for clams in the sand.
4. Birdsong. Just not at five o’clock in the morning, please.
5. Frogs. I love the little ones that cling to the window with sucker feet. I also love the bullfrogs that will sing deep-throated melodies in a few weeks as they search for mates.
6. Green! Luscious green after all the brown and tan for the last six months. So much softer on the eyes.
7. Robins. They really are harbingers of spring. After being absent since December, I saw my first one again in February, but they didn’t return in flocks until March.
8. Rain. Spring rain is so much more inspirational than the hard, cold rain of winter.
9. Spanish moss in an old tree. In fact, Spanish moss in any tree, and really, I shouldn’t limit this one to spring. It’s there, year-round, surviving, living, thriving where you wouldn’t think anything would.
10. Children’s laughter. My own especially. Pure joy at being out in the warm weather after being stuck inside for so many months.