The mildest winter meant snow shoes were replaced by hiking boots in Peninsula State Park. Deer are on the move, small wildlife have left footprints in the frozen slush. From a bench above Lake Michigan what can be seen is miles of snow-covered ice whipped into cracked formations interrupted by threads of open blue water. The majesty of this great body of water replenishes my creative soul. Family, friends, home, and work make Minnesota the great place where I live. Filling my eyes with Lake Michigan, even in winter, reminds me that I grew up in climates dictated by her power and that her shores will always be my home.

The next time I come here it will to be attack revisions of the final Ashwood family book. The woods will be too wet for hiking, the branches of our forsythia bush may almost be in bud, Door County will be in a quiet state with merchants stocking for a new season.

When I am in a serious writing mode the outside world almost slips away. Nights and days are precious resources that have different lighting. I’ll pack the refrigerator with quick foods and favorite treats and work. Playlists on the iPod might fill the background with music that isn’t played at other times—Enya, Yanni, Sarah McLaughlin. On the other hand, Dave Matthews and Bruce Springsteen might fit the work mood.

Stocked notepads, pens, paper and ink cartridges this trip. The dictionary and thesaurus are always here. Will drag the dreaded Chicago Style Manual in the manuscript basket.

Lake Michigan might still have some ice. I wish our place was close enough to hear the water, but we have to be happy with the sounds of tree branches and birds. Works fine for me, especially when work is what I’m supposed to be doing.