Out My Window

Well, it’s not officially summer yet, but once again I’ve moved my writing office to the basement. Not everything—just the office. The reasons are simple and economical. First, there’s a large picture window directly in front of my desk. Second, it’s much easier to cool the basement than the room above the garage.

The first thing to move wasn’t the computer. Before I could even think about that, I had to move everything we had managed to stack in the basement office over the past year. And by “we,” I really mean me.

After a week of cleaning and moving, the office was finally ready. Well…almost. Everyone knows you can’t put an old computer in a brand-new basement office – they just don’t go together. So, I spent another week picking out a new one, bringing it home, and transferring every file from the upstairs computer.

Finally, I sat down to write my first basement story.

Only one problem.

I had absolutely no idea what to write about.

Each morning before sunrise I opened the drapes and watched the first rays of sunlight filter through the trees. One morning a little brown-striped chipmunk scampered across the walkway just outside the window. He didn’t seem to mind the old guy behind the glass taking pictures from only a few feet away. After about an hour I reluctantly said goodbye to my new friend, Chip, and reminded myself I still had a newspaper column to write.

For the next couple of days I tried writing, got distracted, cleaned more of the basement, worked on art projects upstairs, and generally avoided staring at a blank screen.

Then one morning something much larger moved past the window.

A full-grown doe stood only a few feet away, calmly eating my flowering plants. I figured she probably enjoyed them more than I would. I quietly grabbed my phone and spent the morning taking pictures and videos instead of writing.

Yesterday marked two full weeks without a story idea.

Then I noticed movement near the bushes.

At first, I thought it was the chipmunk.

Then I thought it was the doe.

It was neither.

A tiny spotted fawn struggled to its feet while its mother gently encouraged those first wobbly steps. I sat quietly, hardly believing what I was watching. Mama deer never took her eyes off me, but she trusted me enough to stay.

I took plenty of pictures.

Lots of videos.

But more importantly, I had a front-row seat to one of the sweetest moments nature has to offer.

And suddenly I realized…

Sometimes the best stories aren’t found at the keyboard.

Sometimes they’re waiting…

Right outside your window.