Roads to Joy

The other day we explored further west and we ventured into the prevailing wind to reach the agitated seaside. These days I sometimes wonder if I’m not pushing against the wind only to reach a seascape in turmoil.

The problem with writing competitions, though I’ve related how I’ve got several outstanding submissions, is that like the rolling waves, all the unsuccessful submissions are subsumed beneath the winning entries, lost. Feedback is usually only received in writing groups, unless you pay for the privilege with some of the competitions’ judging panels. So it can feel like the sea has just come in and covered everything and you’re no further ahead than you were before you started.

As I’ve tried to admonish myself, that’s not true; something produced, however ephemeral, is something done. And sometimes, sometimes a piece may bob up to the surface, a faltering buoy carried along on tumultuous waters.

It might just be a small comment, a kind of shared experience that a single reader will relate, that makes the writing effort feel worthwhile. Or, conversely, a serendipitous something may materialise out of the prevailing wind and you feel a moment of delight. My beloved spotted the cloud formation above PortPatrick Harbour, suggested that the configuration might make a dramatic photo, and like the solace to seafarers provided by the RNLI lifeboat anchored in the island’s lee, the shot contributed to a change in mood. A gentle calm.