Last week, Lorianne blogged about the doldrums. I've definitely been in the doldrums here, and unable to concoct nearly as lovely a post about it as she did. I have managed to gather my wits to fashion a tweet now and then, and Lorianne is right that just making a conscious effort to notice things yields some curative inspiration. On a chilly gray walk at dusk around my neighborhood last week, I collected an odd grab-bag of sights that seemed to coalesce: Dark sidewalk laced with black ice. A sooty, one-eyed snowman watches. In the window, a candelabra's one blue light like a sore thumb.
Work has also been in the doldrums, though while waiting for the trade winds to pick up I've spent some time mending sails and plotting routes. I finally finished a take-home course that I purchased more than a year ago at a professional conference I went to, intending to work towards a certificate. I sent out emails to clients alerting them to my availability for work and made a couple of new contacts. I did have bits and pieces of client work, nips and tucks from previous projects. I cleaned out my refrigerator of expired items and "science projects." And last week I ordered a new laptop to replace the 2007-era one I have been using that's getting a bit slow for my needs now that I'm working for myself again. It should arrive, I think, this week - and perhaps I'll be so enamored with it I'll feel inspired to write more!
Another benefit of the slow work, besides taking care of long neglected personal tasks, was taking off for an afternoon to meet up with Lorianne to walk around Fresh Pond on Thursday. It not only offered leisurely time for us to catch up, but also rather rare January photo opportunities -- my Flickr photo count attests to the annual dirth of photos from January's often raw gray days. Alas, I think neither of us was able to really capture with our cameras' video settings the amazing sounds of ice chunks on the edges of the pond set in motion by gentle waves. In some places it was like wind chimes, in others like honking geese or like a passing train. Unfortunately, the wind across our little cameras' mics mostly obscured the delicate ice chimes. But I can still hear them.
Update: You can see Lorianne's blog post on our walk here (including links to videos of that clinking ice!)