Storytime

Last night I went for a picnic in the park with some writers. It was the end of a hot day....trees gave welcome shade...birds flitted and twittered... and then the cool change hit. Bark and leaves fell like hail, wind whipped tableclothes, and the sudden cold made people grab for jackets and blankets (anyone's jackets and blankets) for warmth. Like most picnics there was food and talk, laughter and 'so what's been happening?' We talked of writing, a few read their work out, and as we packed up I realised in those few hours how much inspiration was all around us. I must admit to not using my picnic basket a lot these days- but as I packed it I remembered all those Boxing Days when we would pack up the kids, their few favourite 'new' toys from Santa, a picnic lunch made from all those 'leftovers' and head out for the day. Someplace where they could play and run, where we could recharge after the hectic days of Christmas. Remembered my own chi...