As I was walking the dogs this grey and damp morning, I wondered, as the old hymn goes, as I wandered. Why do I feel compelled to write sometimes and not others? I wondered if maybe I had to be "inspired" or "motivated" by some illusive muse. I mused that it was a poor excuse that themuse has not been to visit. After all, if I am not open to a visit from the muse, then why would she visit? (Why, I wonder, is the typical muse female? Is inspiration a traditionally feminine thing? I think not, but perhaps it comes from having to be in a "receptive" posture? Anyway, I digress.)
So as I continued walking, waiting both patiently and impatiently at times for the dogs to investigate yet another bush or tree or bit of debris, I was surprised to find a chicken wandering in the parking lot of a currently empty office building near the underpass construction site. What on earth was a chicken, a rooster I think, and a very handsome one at that, doing wandering about on such a cool overcast morning? I presumed it had leapt to freedom from the backyard of someone who was keeping pet chickens and would hopefully wend its way home. Obviously I could not catch it, not with three curious dogs.
I continued to walk.
I began to think about the age old riddle that never seems to have an answer, "Why did the chicken cross the road?" There are only two answers that satisfy me:
"To get to the other side" and "Because". The latter answer is simple and succinct. Just because. And that, I believe, is what describes my reason for any of the creative things I do, whether it be writing, photography or gardening. Just because.
I think that chicken and I have a lot in common. I am glad I find my way home after wandering in the proverbial wilderness. Now it is time to tend to my muse, to do some creating, to, as it were, get back to what I think I was meant to do. That said, I hope the chicken finds his way home too.