Try googling “happy place” and you will come up with exotic places and crowded locations in expensive sites. Requirements to participate may include travel, money, and time. Maybe that works for some people, but not for me.
My happy place has just opened up – waiting only for a bit of ease in Mississippi summer heat. I pack my divided plastic turquoise tote with a container of pens, pencils, and highlighters; file folders filled with previous drafts, research information, and snippets of ideas; long college-ruled legal pads; a tall container of ice water; my MacPro; and the notebook affectionately named “My Brain.” Slipping through the break in the shrubs and down the brick path, I come to the area renovated especially for my writing urges a couple of Mother’s Days ago by a thoughtful son and daughter-in-law.
Work is on my agenda, but first I take in the natural Mississippi forest canopy and relish the gentle breeze. Opening folders, legal pad, writing instruments, and computer, I sense words filtering from the trees like falling leaves. Birdsong provides lovely background music with only a brief interruption to watch a pair of squirrels play a game of tag around the trunk of an oak tree.
A couple hours later, I look up and wonder where the morning has gone. My computer has filled; my water tumbler has emptied. There will be a little spell of good weather before our two or three weeks of winter comes to South Mississippi. Packing up my paraphernalia. I look up into the canopy and say, “Hold onto those words. I’ll be back.”
I’ll take my happy place over that crowded expensive one any day!