A Room of My Own

It's been many years since I've had my own writing room.  Years ago, when we first moved into our little blue house, I had this sweet room with a window looking out over the water and mountains.  I wrote my first book in that room.  When my first child was born, I turned that into her nursery.  I was happy to do it, but missed having a space of my own.

My second book was written at the kitchen table.  And while that has its pleasures, it's so sweet to have my own room again.  

We recently moved into a new house, and I finally have a room, with a door I can close, and a window.  This new window again looks over the ocean and the mountains.  I've filled it with most of my poetry collection, and a mug of my favorite pens.  And my daughter, now five, has decorated the walls with colorful portraits of the two of us together.   

Nothing could be finer than this space.  I'm so filled with gratitude.