End of writer's block: Meda holds baby Colten, motocyclist passes on the wrong side, boys on bikes, in window, holding Thomas; conversations upon a white horse

An amazing thing happened last night - I got a really good sleep. Actually it took until well into morning - about 10:45 AM - to get it, but I did. After I awoke, I felt better and more alert than I had felt in - hell, I can't remember how long. I had to go to Abby's for breakfast. Margie was still in Anchorage and I kept feeling very troubled about the horse shadows on the wall that I blogged in my last post.

I just didn't know how the sun could possibly have struck the horse statuettes at the just the right angle to cast the shadows the way it did.

So I went back and figured out the mystery. Today, there was a shadow of only one horse head, but that was enough to trace the light back to its source of origin. I discovered that it was not coming directly from the sun, but from sunlight reflecting at an angle off the windshield of Abby's truck, which was parked in about the same place as yesterday.

Meanwhile, Meda Lord spotted another source of light. Meda was waitressing in Allie's place. The source of light was Colten, Shelly's new baby.

Once again, I had worked out in my head some problems in the project involving the B-24 that I mentioned two posts and one day ago in my head, the one that had vexed me with writer's block for a week-and-half. I felt like I could now write, and write good. I wanted to get right to it, but a totally unanticipated survival problem arose and I had to spend some time to deal with that instead. I believe the problem got solved, but I will not know for certain for a day or two. It is the kind of solution that cost me over $1000 loss in anticipated income, but such is the life of a freelancer.

Once that was out of the way, I started to write. Everything flowed. It felt good. But I couldn't stick with it for very long because I had to put it aside and drive to Anchorage to pick Margie up and bring her home for her three day weekend.

I did not want to go. I wanted to stay put, right here and write. I wanted no interruptions. But I could not leave Margie in town so I got up and went. On the highway approaching Anchorage, I looked in my mirror and saw this guy coming fast from behind. I thought it would make a good picture as he made his pass. I was in the center lane and so rolled down my left hand window in anticipation that he would follow the law and pass to my left.

Instead, he passed to the right. It was a very tough shot because in this kind of situation, a photographer must keep his eye on the road, he cannot raise his camera to his eye, he must rely entirely on his shoot from the hip aim and he must get all of his shots off in half a second. He must rely on his autofocus to grab the subject he wants to photograph, but the right hand window was up, dirty and the camera was most likely to focus upon that dirt.

But, as I have noted before, there are sharpshooter photographers and there are quick draw artist photographers. I am quick draw artist, a regular Clint Eastwood with a camera instead of a gun. The cyclist passed on the right, but my draw was quick, my aim was good and the autofocus found the mark.

As I waited out a red light at the corner of Boniface and Northern Lights, these two boys crossed the road in front of me.

When I arrived at Jacob and Lavina's to pick up Margie, I saw Kalib, peering out the window at me.

Lavina and Jobe returned home shortly after I got there. Jobe grabbed one of many Thomases.

Then I headed for home, with Margie in the passenger seat. As we motored down Lucille Street in Wasilla, I saw this lady, engaged in conversation from the back of a white horse.

We got home about 8:00 PM. I left Margie alone in the living room and charged straight out here, into my office. I still felt good. Words were still flowing through my mind. I returned to the writing I had struggled with for so long and had been interrupted once it finally got going. For three hours, the words just flowed. I feel good about them. Then, suddenly, it was like my brain slammed into a wall. Exhaustion swept over me. I could not write another word in the project. I had to stop. I am not worried, though. I still feel the flow. It will be there tomorrow and hopefully I will have no interruptions and can just sit and here and get it done.

Then it suddenly occurred to me that if I wanted to get a blog post up, and I did, I had better get to it.

So I downloaded the few pictures I took today, selected these six, processed them, uploaded them and then put my fingers on the keyboard, curious, having given no thought to what I might write for the blog. I then sat here for a spell, waiting to see what kind of words would come.

These are the words that came. And of them all, here is the last: one.