A few nights ago I was reading My War with the Ospreys by John Steinbeck. I should say he is not one of my favorite authors. I was reading the short story because it was assigned to my mom in her memoir writing class. As always I’m nosy about reading material. I need to know the reason people choose to assign certain authors. I decided if the instructor thought it was important, it might be worth my time. My mind was focused. I had every intention of giving Steinbeck another chance.
It wasn’t long before zzzzzzzzzzz…….
My efforts failed. What is it with authors and nature? Frost, Thoreau, and many other great writers are inspired by the outdoors. I don’t get it. Yes, trees are beautiful, flowers are captivating, and the ocean continues to amaze, but what about nature sends authors to the writing table?
A few nights ago I received my answer. I was watching a movie when I noticed movement outside my window. A squirrel was leaping around on a tree. He wasn’t just any dumb indecisive squirrel. This guy knew exactly what he was doing. He was so fascinating I watched him for twenty minutes (totally ignoring the movie) and even took some pictures. Maybe I should rethink my attitude towards nature. Perhaps when I’m in need of inspiration I will seek out a nature trail.
Here is the animal that didn’t inspire a book, but a blog post.