Carol Bergman

And the city is quiet and the air is fresh. I heard the plow at 6 am or so and went to look out the window. Yes, the forecast was accurate, we are locked in for the day, though I will certainly go walking with my ski poles up the hill and into the park if the wind dies down. The children will be on their sleds, a wonderland. Rudy and his dog friends will be wearing their booties to protect their paws from the salt. We will all romp, we will all smile. And it’s a perfect day for reading, writing and napping. I’ve been away for several days, unable to write except for journaling. Stories for my collection--Nomads 3-- accumulate, recorded as titles in the back of my journal.

Sometimes it’s hard to begin again, a bit like a lay-off from the gym, the muscles lazy and atrophied. But the desire is too strong for resistance to win. And so it is for the new students I will meet this term. Many have resisted registering for a writing workshop year after year, or they didn’t have the time, or the money. (Writing workshops are getting expensive!) Now here they are, pens and notebooks at the ready. I will welcome them eagerly.