Cousin of the Crown

It seems I always have an excuse for why this is late, so I will simply say sorry and move on.  Here it is.  Tell me, if you have the time, what do you think of Terran and Gulin?  Henry is pretty much a minor character and I don't care much about him anymore, other than as fluffy bits to fill up their world.  I know what is going to happen between these two brothers, but I want to know what your thoughts are.

E. T.

Cousin of the Crown

Chapter Seven

By: Elisabeth Treble

Gulin came back.

I had hardly noticed he was gone, so absorbed in my own life, in Lahdel’s.

“Lady Alea,” he said, bowing to me.

“Gulin,” I cried, going to him.  It soothed my heart to see him, even if his eyes were the same color as Terran’s.  Just not as serious or steady.  How could I have ever thought them similar?  His hand was stiff as I grasped it.

“Please, Gulin,” I begged, with more feeling than I meant to show.  He looked to me, surprised.  “Please, do not be angry with me.”

“I can’t be angry with you,” he said low and tense.  “That is the problem.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said tartly.  “I am hardly worthy of a prince.  Haven’t you heard?  I’m a famous actress, now.”

He smiled, his stern expression easing.  “I had heard.  Congratulations.”  He kissed my hand.  The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Welcome home, brother.”  Gulin shot his older sibling a startled glance as Terran stepped up beside us.  There was nothing nice in Terran’s tone, steely and keen, like a knife.

“Terran,” Gulin said, dropping my hand to shake his.  “Sorry to have left you so long.”

Terran blinked and smiled, suddenly easy again.  “How were the mountains?”

“Snowy.” Gulin said, making a face.

Terran laughed and clapped Gulin on the back.  “Tell me.”

They went off together, slipping through the crowd with their heads together.  I went to the wall and sank to a chair.  I was never a fainter, but I came close then, breathing quickly, the room echoing very far away.

I forced myself to my feet and went back to Lahdel.  She was laughing, the most sincere laugh I’d heard since I came back.  Gulin was describing getting stuck in a snow drift while surveying their mountain mines.  I joined in, ribbing him mercilessly.  Terran was out dancing.

He came back for Lahdel.  He always did, dancing at least once with her each time, no matter how casual the setting.

Gulin fell silent as we sat together.

“Alea,” he began.

“Please, Gulin.” I interrupted.  “Please?”

He sighed.  “I’d hoped you would change your mind.”

“I am sorry.” I said.  “I just can’t.”  I couldn’t stop loving Terran.  I had been trying.

Gulin smiled at me.  “Friends, then?”

I nodded.  “Always.”

“You would have liked Glenshire.” He said after a moment.  “It was cold.”

I laughed.  “But I love the sun!”

“Yes, but not the heat, I think.  Didn’t you grow up in the back hills somewhere in Talin?”

“They are not the back hills!” I protested.  “There are at least two estates even further out than my father’s.”

“Close enough.” He grinned at me, the last of the anger fading from his eyes.  I breathed a quiet sigh.  He hadn’t loved me, not like his brother.  Not the all-consuming, self-destructive force that kept Terran’s jaw set, his shoulders stiff.  I feared for him, so tightly he was wound.  He looked desperate most mornings, like he was barely holding onto himself.

“How do you like being our own prima donna?” Gulin asked, jerking my thoughts away from his brother.

“Very well.” I said.  “Though, I am getting tired of young men yodeling in the garden under my window every night.”

Gulin snorted.  “Poor Alea, loved and admired by everyone.”

I blushed.  “You know what I mean.”

He searched my face suddenly.  “You look thinner.  Are you unwell?”

There was an involuntary edge in my voice as I said, “You’ve been away from court too long.  You’ve lost your touch for flattery.”

He was taken aback.  “No, no, I meant…” His eyes narrowed.  “Alea.” He warned.

I smirked and turned away.  He swore grumpily, giving me a rueful smile.

“Alea, you are beautiful.  You know this.”

I shrugged.  “Lahdel says I look pale as well.  Maybe I should have gone with you.  I could use some sun.”

“It is odd to see you not either burned or tanned,” Gulin teased.  “Too many nights on stage, I suppose.  When are you singing again?  I’d like to come see you.”

“Lady Alea.”

We both jumped.

“Prince Terran,” I said, nodding to him.

“Dance with me.”

I counted five eternal seconds before my lips moved, making the shape of smile.  “Of course.  If you would excuse me, Prince Gulin.”

The younger man’s face was set, but his voice was easy enough.  “We’ll speak more later.”

Terran’s hand and mine barely touched, like we were each straining not to actually feel the other.  His other hand was light on my waist, not resting there, but hovering.

“Are you having a pleasant evening?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Are you happy Gulin is home?”

I looked up to his face then.  His eyes were blank, like they always were.  “I missed him.”  I admitted.  “He makes me laugh.”

Terran grunted and the music started.

“You were lovely last night,” he said after a few minutes.  “But doesn’t your voice get tired, singing all the time?”

“Sometimes,” I said.  “It depends on the role.”

“I see.”

I hesitated an instant.  “How are you?  Really?”

He moved his eyes from his stare over my shoulder to meet mine.  “How do you think?”  His hands did touch me then, pressing into me for an instant before he eased away.  I shivered and he felt it.

“Alea?”

“Don’t!” I whispered fiercely.  “Don’t say my name like that!”

He nodded.  “I won’t.”

We danced in silence until it was over.

“Please don’t do this again.” I said as he bowed to me.  I was trembling, my legs week.  Being so near him for so long was crushing my resolve, my determination to be good.

“I’ll try.” He said.  He handed me off and disappeared into the crowd.

He didn’t try hard enough.

He claimed a dance from me, too, usually the one right after Lahdel.  I grew calloused to it, going so far as to be able to talk with him in a normal voice.  It would look odd if we danced several times a week and never said a word to each other.

Having Gulin home was a blessing.  Henry had never cared much for me or Lahdel and had no time for us.  Gulin would come and spend his mornings with us in Lahdel’s solarium, keeping us laughing.  Some of the stress weighing down on her lifted, and consequentially from me as well.  If he wouldn’t have taken it the wrong way, I would have kissed him.

Terran never came.

It was late in an afternoon, the days just starting to lengthen again, when I chanced upon the two of them talking.  Arguing, in low, tense tones.  I stilled, my heart hammering.  It was a quiet wing of the palace, where I knew Terran came to work when he was upset.

“What is going on?” Gulin demanded, his voice rising.

I cringed.  I knew what this was about.  Gulin had to have noticed, to have heard the whispers.

“Leave it.” Terran warned, his voice as cold as his brother’s was heated.

“Terran!”

“It does not concern you.”

“It damn well does!” Gulin snarled.  “She’s my sister, now, Terran.  What are you thinking?”

Something heavy slammed, like a book hitting a table.  “Gulin!”

“Why?”

I closed my eyes.  Just say it, I pleaded silently, not knowing why.   Just let it out, tell him.  Explain.

“Go away.” Terrsn said finally.

“She knows.  Everyone knows.”

“Knows what?” He was wary, now.

“That you won’t have her.  You don’t even share a room!  How could you think no one would guess?  It’s crushing her, Terran.  She was never very strong, not like her cousin.  You have to have her sometime!  Why do you wait?  Think what you’re doing to her, to Alea!”

“Do not dare to direct me, Gulin.”  Mentioning me was a mistake.  I shuddered at Terran’s tone.  “Get out.”

I ducked into an empty room until Gulin had stormed by.  I followed silently, slipping into a garden, still trembling.

I was too distraught to hear Gulin’s steps until he snapped my name.

“Alea!”

I jumped, staring up at him.

“What the hell is going on?” he snarled at me.

I was a coward.  I knew it and I was not ashamed.  Faced with the same question, I couldn’t make myself tell him.  Couldn’t tell him how I loved his brother.  So instead I asked, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” Gulin snapped.  “Terran and Lahdel!”

I hushed him.

“We’re alone, I checked.” He bit out.  “Tell me what’s going on!”

I winced.  “Lahdel says…” I shrugged helplessly.

Gulin swore then, his fists on his hips.  “Who is it?”

I couldn’t lie, so I said nothing.  He shot me a hard look.  “You know, don’t you!”

I shook my head frantically.

“Don’t lie to me, Alea!”

“I’m not!” I shouted back, jumping to my feet.  “I tried to reason with him!  He is acting crazy!”  He was. I was.  We were both out of our minds.

“He’s a fool.” Gulin growled.  “Talin could annul it.  It would ruin everything.”

I gasped as he said my deepest, darkest wish aloud.  More than anything, I wanted my king to lose his patience, to grow furious with the shame heaped on his daughter and take her back.  It would be terrible for everyone, for every single citizen and soldier dragged into it.  I didn’t care.

Gulin sighed suddenly, rubbing his face.  “I’m sorry, Alea.  I shouldn’t be angry with you.”

“Its alright.” I said shakily.  I sank back to the bench.  “The stress…”

Gulin nodded.  “I imagine.”

I bowed my head, breathing deeply to calm my stomach.  I still couldn’t eat.  Terran’s abrupt attention was not making it easier to deal with.

“You don’t sing tonight?”

I shook my head.  “No.  We have two weeks pause.”

“You need to rest.”  Gulin’s hand lifted my chin, his fingers gentle.  “Really, Alea.  You look terrible.”

I believed him.  “I am tired.”

“Go to bed.” He said.  “I’ll sit with Lahdel tonight.”

“Would you?” I asked.  “She likes you.  You make her laugh.”

“Something I assume she has not done much of lately.”

I had to smile.  “She knows all my jokes already.”

Gulin chuckled.  “Go on.  Before I have to rewrite my love songs to include the shadows under your eyes.”

I made a face and left, leaving him in the garden.

It was well I wasn’t at dinner.  Terran punched Gulin in the face.

Lahdel told me about it when she came up, her eyes wide.  She had soup staining her dress.

“And then Gulin jumped up and shoved Terran over the table.  Everyone was screaming.  The guards had to pull them apart.”  She was bouncing in her chair, biting her lip.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” I said, grumpy.  I had actually been asleep, for once dropping off effortlessly.  “Just a disagreement.”

“The king lectured them in front of the entire assembly.” Lahdel continued, her color coming and going by turns.  “It was terrible.  They wouldn’t say what they were fighting over.”

Me. Laid my head down, miserable.  They are fighting over me.  The egomaniac thought made me flush from my hair to my toes.  But it was true.  They were fighting because of me.  And I couldn’t leave again.  I couldn’t leave Lahdel here to face it all by herself.

The urge to tell her was almost overwhelming.  I lifted my head again, looking at her as she stared out the dark window, her brow furrowed.

“I hope he is alright,” she said softly.

I sighed, turning my face away.  I couldn’t.  She was my sister, a woman I loved, that I had cared for.  It would crush her.  She was already thin and pale, both of us reduced by the situation.  There would be no way to fix what would break between us.  It would only make it worse.

And she would send me away and I would never see him again.

She left soon after, leaving me alone with my jealousy and selfishness.  I huddled under my blankets, chilled through, and tried to sleep.

He said, she said, they said, we said

This post is not about gossip nor is the start of a Dr. Seuss book.  It is about how much I dislike the word 'said.'

I really do.  It bugs me.  I can't quite figure out why, because as an avid reader and an aspiring novelist, I see and use 'said' a lot.  A lot.  Which, now that I wrote it out and can look at my reasoning, makes perfect sense.

I feel, when I'm writing, that every other word is 'said.'  It is the most used word after I, you, to, a and the.  Every time someone says something, they either 'said' it or 'said' it plus some type of adverb, loudly, fiercely, sweetly, quickly, smoothly, coldly, bitingly, bitterly, etc.  I love adverbs, by the way.  Just doing something is boring.

And so I am always trying to find ways to get rid of 'said.'  words like stated, told, announced, proclaimed, clipped, shot, growled, slurred, chuckled, things of that nature.  Or, I like to pair the dialogue with an action, so you know who is supposed to be talking through motion.  Like:  'He looked over his shoulder.  "Pass me that wrench, will you?"'

This whole 'said' thing was really distressing me a few days ago.  (Yes, I do think about verbs and adverbs on my commute to work.)  I was frustrated with my novel, since it doesn't seem to want to settle down into the final action sequences the way I want and I was getting nowhere with starting little thousand word short story snippets.

So, I decided to read a comfort book.  Comfort books are the best.  Book you love, love, love and can read over and over.  Mine are usually silly or witty and have some fluffy bits in them.  I flicked on my e-reader and randomly selected one of my comfort books.

It was 'Chip and the Flying U,' by B.M. Bower.  It's a western and it and it's sister books are the silliest things ever.  I love it.

But as I started it for the quadrillionth time, I noticed something.  First, that the perspective, shared between the two main characters would switch around mid-scene, showing both sides of their internal dialogue.  Not all the time, but frequently enough that I noticed.  I usually make a point not to blur the internal monologue parameters and keep each characters thoughts inside their own bubble-scene.

Also, and I'm sure you saw this coming.  'Said' was everywhere.  And after a snort of disgust and a few minutes reading, it didn't bother me.  I just looked over it, the same way my eyes slipped past people's names.  I knew who the characters were.  I didn't have to sound each word out in my head.  I know a  lot of research has been and is being put into this sort of thing: how we read and communicate.

But I think I have made my peace with said.  It's like periods.  No one...at least I don't read: Quote he looked over his shoulder period double quote pass me that wrench comma will you question mark double quote close quote

That makes my brain hurt just to look at it.  And so, I think I will try to look at 'said' as a form of punctuation.  Something that goes after dialogue as a gentle reminder of who said what, so thing don't get complicated.  And I need to lighten up and not worry so much about things like the word 'said' anyway.  Perspective, people.

E.T.

Cousin of the Crown...On time this week

Now things start to get interesting...Hope you enjoy this chapter.  Please let me know what you think.

E. T.

Cousin of the Crown

Chapter Six

By: Elisabeth Treble

“I do not like you going this late in the year,” my mother said, her eyes on the heavy clouds above the manor.

I tucked my scarves in tighter and stepped into the carriage.

“I will be well,” I told her.  “I will write when I reach the palace.”

“Be safe,” she said, pressing my hand.

I waved to my family and shut the door, cutting off the biting wind.

The carriage lurched down the hills, cutting directly for the wide bay of the lake below.  Five days it took to cross it in good weather.  Now it might be a week or more.  The captain grimaced at me as I was handed over the side.

“Get below,” he snapped at me, turning away.  I obeyed, ducking out of the howling wind.  The ship lurched as it left the dock, the sails whipping until they caught the wind and pushed the ship forward.

I spent each and every hour of the voyage lying on my narrow bed, steeling myself for what was to come.  I had to ignore him.  I had to pretend that his very name didn’t make my heart skip.  I had to pretend he was nothing.

It was snowing as I rode up to the palace.  Lahdel was waiting in the hall, wrapped up securely against the chill seeping through the doors and windows.

“Alea!” she cried, throwing herself at me.

My anger with her tamped down.  She was thinner than I had ever seen her, hollow checked.  She was truly miserable.  I held her close, letting her hide her tears in my shoulder.

“Come, tell me everything,” I said, an unwitting echo of my mother’s comfort to me.

I left her sleeping in her bed, cried out and exhausted.  She didn’t want his passion, just his respect, something infinitely harder to wring out of an unwilling man.  She knew her duty and he was denying her.

The library was cold and dark, only a few candles lit in carefully sealed sconces.  A fire here would destroy hundreds of years of careful work and research.

He didn’t look up at my steps, though I knew he knew it was me.  Just as I had known he was here, sitting alone in the dark, staring at his hands.  I stood looking down on him.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said finally, his voice catching.

“I know.” I said.  “I don’t want to be.  My queen commanded me.”

He nodded.  “You know, then?”

“That you refused Lahdel?  Yes.”

He looked up.  “Alea.”

“Why?”

“You know why, Alea.”

I shook my head.  “It is impossible and we both know it.”

“It is not.” He snapped.

“It is done.” I shot back.  “You dishonor and disgrace her.  You must do your duty!”

He surged to his feet, advancing on me.  “And it means nothing to you?”

I clenched my fists.  “You mean everything to me, Terran.”

He snapped his teeth together so hard they clicked.  “I will not.” He growled.

“You must.”

“You cannot make me!”

“Terran!”

“I will not!”  His fury was the more frightening for its quiet intensity.  He did not shout, only stood panting, his hands working.

“Then what are you going to do?” I asked when I could find my voice.  I was glad of the table between us.

“I have brothers.  I will have nephews.”

I shook my head.  “That is not right, Terran.”

“I will explain to Lahdel.”

“You will kill her.” I snapped.  His eyes gleamed a moment in the darkness.  I sucked in a breath.  “Terran?”

He blinked and the shadow passed.  “I will not.” He said simply.  “Alea, I love you.”

I pressed my hands into the smooth top of the table, holding myself upright.  “Then why did you marry Lahdel?”

“Alea-”

“Why did you marry her?  Why did you put me through this, if you are just going to make her suffer, too?”

“I had to marry her!”

“And yet you will not do your duty by her?”

“I did my duty for my kingdom!”  He was blazing now, shaking with rage.  “I did what I had to, though it tore my heart out.  I am trying to make this right!”

“It will never be right!” I snarled at him.  “It can never be right!”

“What would you have me do?” he demanded, throwing his arms out.  “Go to her now?  Would that make you happy?”

“Terran!”

“And when its your name that I gasp out, what will I tell her then?  That I love you more than my kingdom, more than my own life, that she is just a tool, a vessel to carry on my bloodline?  That in one instant, you ripped my life apart?  That every smile I give her, every word I speak is a lie?  That I want you?”

It was the hardest thing I had ever said.  “You cannot have me.”

“I know.”  The words hung in the air between us, an insurmountable wall.  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.  “And if I cannot have you, I do not want any woman.  Can you not see that?”

I bit my tongue to keep my tears inside.  “Terran, please.”

“Can you just accept this from me?” He asked.  “I can give you nothing that I want to, but this.  You will marry one day; you will have to.  You will bear children that should have been mine.  Will you let me do this?  For you?”

“I will not marry.” I bit out.

“And I will not lie with Lahdel.”

“Do not lie to yourself, Terran.” I said, my despair making me ruthless, wanting to inflict my pain on anything, even him.  “One day you will.  You will want to.”

“No.” He said, almost gently.  “Never.  I swear it.”

“Please, don’t!” I pleaded, panicking now.  He was pulling at me, his eyes dark and hurt.  I wanted to comfort him more than anything in the world.  But if I stepped into his arms, I would never leave again.  I would kill Lahdel and countless others as our kingdoms tore each other apart.

“Go away.” He said, his voice hard.  “Go. Now.”

I fled, picking up my skirts and running for my life.

Terran’s face was as cool and impassive as I had ever seen it the next morning.  He treated Lahdel, and consequentially me, with polite grace, but achingly distant and cold.  Lahdel’s eyes filled as she watched him stalk from the table.

“I don’t understand,” she begged me after he left and we were alone.  “What has happened?”

“I talked with him last night,” I admitted.

“Yes?” she crushed my hands in hers.

“He…” I hated to lie to her, but the truth would destroy her.  “He does like you, Lahdel.  He respects you, which is why he refuses you.”

“I don’t understand.” She said, pitiful in her distress.

“He loves another.”  I blushed as I said it but she didn’t notice.

“What?”  She demanded.

“He loves a woman he cannot have.  He does not want to lie to you by…being with you when he wants her.”

“Who?” Lahdel insisted, her eyes bright and feral.  “Who is it?”

I shook my head.  “He would not say.”

“Why did he not say anything before?  Why did he not warn me?”

“I don’t know.” I admitted, wishing I knew what to have done to prevent this.  “But be patient with him.  His is heart-broken.”

Lahdel dropped her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Do you love him?” I asked after a moment.

“No.” She said dully.  “But he is my prince and will be my king.”

“Give him time.” I said.  “He did not know his own mind, I think, until faced with the decision.”

Lahdel nodded.  “You are right, as always.” She said, a weak hint of smile on her lips.

I forced a laugh and turned back to my cold breakfast.

I tried to stay as far from him as possible.  I didn’t know how no one else could feel it, how he drew at me.  There were nights when I would go to bed, my cheeks aching from holding a false smile on my face all day.  Terran never smiled.  Not even the fleeting ones he used to bestow on me when he thought I was being particularly difficult and willful.

He watched me flirt and dance with his noblemen, his face smooth and blank.  Lahdel did her best, putting aside her own embarrassment to try to charm him into at least being cheerful.  He was very nice to her, but I heard the whispers.  People noticed his distant attitude, how he hardly spoke to her.  They noticed how he went through the motions of courting her, but never an inch further.

They noticed that she was not pregnant.

I joined an opera company in the city.  It was nothing like the ones back home, much smaller and less extravagant.  But I enjoyed it.  It was hard to think of anything when I was frantically memorizing dialog and coloratura.  I would fall into bed, the music jangling through my head, exhausted.  It helped.

I made quite a name for myself.  Lahdel teased me as I fended off overly eager admirers, trying to convince them gently that looking at them while I sang did not necessarily mean I was in love with them.

“Shut up.” I snapped crossly as I dumped yet another bouquet into Clara’s arms to dispose of.

“What did you expect?” she asked.  “You grow more lovely by the day.”

“I do not!” I protested.  I thought I looked sick, pale and growing thin.  I couldn’t eat, no matter how many days passed.

Lahdel clucked over me.  “Silly little songbird!” She chided.  “Of course you are lovely.  You have always been lovely.  I don’t tell you enough.”

I closed my eyes.  It was hard to hate her when she was being so genuinely kind and gentle.  There was not a guileful bone in her body.  I flushed, ashamed.  Not like me.

“You just need sleep,” Lahdel said.  “You’ve been working too hard.”

“I have to learn Gigi before next week.  And then-”

“And now you need to rest,” Lahdel said sternly.  “Otherwise you’ll fall flat on your face tonight.”

I nearly did anyway, as I glided out onto the stage.  Terran sat in the royal box.

My emotions, usually so controlled while performing, rose up and choked me.  I stood frozen, unable to speak, the men in the scene waiting with growing concern as I hesitated.  I shook myself.

“What revelry is this?” my voice echoed out, rough.

My co-protagonist answered, looking very relieved.  The scene went on from there without any trouble.  I sang the opening duet and hurried off for a change of costume.  I stopped for moment behind the curtains, irrationally furious.

How dare he come here?  How dare he come and watch me sing, without warning me?  I took a shaking breath.  He had no right to come here, to upset me.  It was the one place I could forget him, pretend that this was real and my life was the drama, that it would end soon and I could walk away unscathed.

“Alea?”  My male lead asked, coming up to me.  “Alea are you unwell?”

“No,” I said, mastering myself.  “No, just…I don’t know.”  I laughed then, blinking my eyes clear.  “Hurry, or we’ll miss our cue.”

He searched my face in the shadows.  “Should I fetch Viva?”  I made a face at him.

After the raucous finish, complete with thrown pies, misdirected letters, and a duel, I stood alone on the stage and bowed to the cheering audience.

I nearly fell off into the orchestra when the noise died all at once, the echos fading quickly.  I looked up.  Terran had stood and the crowd waited to hear his opinion.

“Beautiful, as ever, Lady Alea.” He said softly, but somehow filling up the space.  I shivered and tried not to show.

“Your highness,” I murmured, dipping a curtsy.  “Thank you.”

He sat again and the applause resumed like it had never halted.  I waved, flashing smiles and kisses, then exited back stage.

“Alea!” my co-actors caught me as I stumbled.  “Whatever is the matter?”

I drew my hand across my eyes.  They were dry, something that surprised me.

“I’m just tired,” I said.  I patted their hands, pushing them away.  “No late party for me tonight.  I need to go home and sleep.”

I didn’t; I laid in bed, wide awake.  What had he meant by it?  Those three words were more than he’d spoken to me in weeks.  Again, an inexplicable fury rose up in me.  Couldn’t he just leave me alone?  Couldn’t he just give up and let me be, let me be miserable without having to be reminded of all I had lost?

I was not pleased to see him again the next week as I reprised my role as Gigi.  This opera was serious, no flung pastries anywhere.

At least he did not speak to me again.  I did look up after the most famous scene, a lament as I mourned my dead lover.  I was crying, as it fit the situation, and the noise was thunderous.  Terran nodded once, his face half concealed in shadow.  I looked away before my tears became real.

Weather Permitting

So, where I live has had an unusually cold, nasty spring.  Unfortunately, most every place in the country can boast a horrific late winter-spring climate.  I have at least been spared tornadoes, ice storms and blizzards.  But temperatures averaging twenty degrees below normal is rather depressing after awhile.

But today!  Today was beautiful and warm.  Today was so nice I ate my lunch on the back porch and only needed a light sweater, not a raincoat and thermal underwear.  It was amazing.  I felt energized.  I wanted to get out and do things, which is what everyone else in my town was doing at exactly the same time.

I went for a run, played outside with my dog and...gasp...drove with my windows down!  It was awesome.  Though I had prior commitments that didn't care one way or another that it was a beautiful day, I still got out to enjoy it.

When I sat down after lunch to plug away at my novel, it was at once nice and disheartening to look out at the beautiful sunshine and not be doing something out in it.  I mean, I was wasting it.  Letting it fall on the uncaring grass, which will grow no matter what is happening in the sky.

But about mid afternoon, the clouds rolled in.  Not unexpected; that's what the weatherman said on the news, and he and/or she is generally correct.  So the rain came and I found something that I like better than warm spring sunshine.

Warm spring rain.

It's terribly melodramatic of me, but I really like it when it is warm outside and it rains.  Cold weather rain in misty and gross.  Warm weather rain falls in plump drops that make nice sounds as they plop into puddles, onto leaves, or various cars sitting on the street.  It smells good, it feels good on your skin.  It gives the world a soft grey color that is completely different than the overbearing dull grey of December rain.  I love it.  I love to walk in it, open the windows and listen to it.

Maybe because water is often used as a symbol of change or motion and growth, but I find that I think and write best when I can sit and look outside at the rain.  I'll write anywhere I can find time.  But if I had my ideal studio set up, it would have a wide desk with nothing on but my computer in a wide room with pale colors, facing open windows that had an interesting view of some idyllic countryside.  Or mountains.  I love the smell of high altitude pine forests, the crisp, yet lush quality to the air.

Sheesh, I'm a romantic.

E. T.