Last night I was sitting out on my front porch. The neighborhood was quiet. Still. And then something captured my attention. A sound. Like water rushing, but not quite. Like waves rolling onto the shore, but still, not quite. I just listened.

It was the sound of leaves rustling from blocks away as the wind began to move into the area…closer and closer the sound of rustling leaves became louder.

Then I could see movement in the trees across the street…then the leaves on the tree in my front yard began to shiver and join the wind-song.

And THEN I felt the wind on my face.

The wind hasn’t stopped since. 13-20 mph gusts. I was there when it began.

That is like the creative process to me. I sense something ‘out there’…and it approaches. My ideas begin to solidify…the plan begins to take shape…and then it hits me…and there is no stopping it until it is completed.