It’s the first day of spring, my favorite season. I’ve ordered bulbs and seeds. Luckily, I am married to a Master Gardener (complete with certification), so all I had to do is pick the flowers I like. He spoils me and I love it.

Everything is turning green, robins are in our trees and the peonies I adore are popping through the soil. Not too long from now, their plush flowers will burst into bloom and color will surround us once again. There’s something about the renewal of the earth that renews my soul.

The Muse has been playful lately, which is welcomed. I spent most of the fall researching for my newest work in progress. While I enjoy learning, research is not as much fun as writing. Research is more like work. Writing is not quite play, but in the space of doing something wonderful I lose track of time and for that, I feel blessed.

Does that mean writing is work? Yes. But, if your heart is in the work, it becomes play.

When my children were small, I told them to find "something" they’d do for free and it would never seem like work. I think I’ve found my "something." Like the first day of spring, it renews my spirit to write.

-- Deborah