The tulips in our backyard are almost in bloom. I smile when I see them because they’re a gift each spring from the former occupant of our house. We took ownership in the heat of the summer so it was a surprise that May when the peach colored blossoms made their appearance.
I’d never been a tulip lover before, but since that first spring I’ve been hooked. My husband and I planted bulbs in the island on the street so we could enjoy these heralds of warmer weather from the front of the house as well. This year, just as the flowers had budded, the local deer population decided to snack. All that’s left out front are tall stalks of green with huge leaves.
I thought about this as I struggled in front of my computer today. Something seems to have bitten the head off my story. I wish I could blame meandering deer, but I’m afraid it’s my fault. I’ve stagnated. Something has bitten my story off just as it was beginning to bloom. I fear all this time I’ve been working on a tale about tulips when my story may have been about Irises. Or roses. Or perhaps even an apple tree. Has this ever happened to anyone else out there?
