It is beautiful weather outside today. The sun is shining on the moors as I look out of the window of my spare office bedroom over the green and gold heather of Exmoor in the West Country, UK. Sheep are frolicking in the fields and the sky is the deepest blue you've ever seen. Tomorrow I'm thinking of going off to play some folk music in a pub at Appledore with friends. My flute will ring out the reels and my soprano sax will haunt the oak beams and dance in and out of the minds of the assembled crowd. Thursday morning, it will be tennis with the wrinklies at the local club, laughter and, after, aching muscles, hot shower, lunch then fighting to stay awake through the long afternoon. Pause a while ... Work is calling ... I wrench my eyes back to the blue grey computer screen in front of me. Years have passed as I have penned stories onto the web, earned a bit, lost a bit, played with advertising, built traffic, lost traffic, got older, never rich - just me and the view outside of the grass and the heather - always anonymous, me, the computer and the view. My eyes drift back to the seagulls soaring and wheeling in pairs and fours across the valley between the hills. I wonder how it feels to be up there and free. A black crow dares to interrupt their path and they turn to mob him but he escapes. They climb again on the rising thermals, screaming, rejoicing. My mind pulls me back demanding me to work. My emotions say no - linger a while, close the office door, walk out amid the heather and the gorse, feel the earth springy under my feet, hear the robins and skylarks, watch the agile squirrels leap from bending green bough to sturdy trunk. But on the web there is no such thing as standing still. Stopping a while means falling back and dark eyed search engines demand feeding lest they cease repaying author's long hours of effort with meager crumbs. Surfers wheel from site to site like seagulls, elusively dancing to greedy corporate spider's tune, always eager to be freely fed. So I must work, continue what I have been doing for years since the Internet was born like the sheep in the fields. Yet as sheep come and go with the seasons so did brief success and now there are ever more electronic hills to climb. Weary fingers over computer keys, descend, hesitate, return to rest on polished brown desk top. Work, I tell myself ... Work... Nope, I reply, I'm going to join a writers forum instead. Hi folks!
Hello Rob, Welcome to the Writing Forums. Beautiful pastoral days are Hell. At least if you're trying to keep your mind on something else! If you haven't explored the site yet, you should probably do so soon. Newcomers often gravitate to the Lounge, the Word Games, or the Review Room, but there is much more to be discovered if you poke in the corners. Remember to check out our FAQ as well! As for the Review Room, new joiners often wonder why we do things a bit differently on this site than on other writing sites. We emphasize reviewing as a critical writing skill. Training your eye by reviewing other people's work helps you improve your own writing even before you present it for others to see. Therefore, we ask members to review other people's writing before posting work of their own. The Review Room forums on this site, therefore, are true workshops, not just a bulletin board for displaying your work (and on that note, please only post each item for review in one Review Room forum). See this post, Why Write Reviews Before Posting My Work? for more information. Enjoy your stay here, and have fun!
Hello Rob, *sigh* I was so with you with all of that. I do wonder though which window you're looking out of because the sun has not been shining today. Perhaps it was the window of opportunity and all is rosy through it. Hello from a very cloudy Cornwall. I try and play the flute too, but not very successfully.
Thanks for your warm welcomes cogito, shinn and sayso. sayso There were clouds but there was also blue sky showing through in quite a few places. What sort of music do you play on your flute? I hear there is quite a strong folk music following in Cornwall. I went to a couple of folk festivals in Cornwall last year (2007) which were quite good (Wadebridge and Bude) and recently visited Falmouth. At Saltash I used a motorway services station from hell (except it was not actually a motorway of course). It was so bad that it gave me an idea for an online story so there was a silver lining to that cloud. Sometimes how well we play is limited by those we play with and for a piece of music to sound wonderful, it doesn't have to be technically difficult. What is important, I believe, is one's sensitivity to the other people who are playing. Thanks once again for your kind welcome.
That's it, I'm moving! It's just not fair! Falmouth is about seven miles away from where I live and I go there quite often. We usually go kayaking on the River Fal, setting off from the other side to the town. I play christmas carols on my flute because they're the easiest. I'm self taught and haven't got very far with it. :redface: Take care Rob.
