Last night, my husband and I were sitting in the sunroom when he shot out of his chair. I jumped up, too, panicking as I did. You have to know my husband to understand why. He's laid back and doesn't move faster than a turtle most days. So if he moves quick, I expect the worst.
Anyway, I was glad I did. Three big, absolutely beautiful deer (a buck with an amazingly large rack and two does) stood in our backyard watching us. They calmly walked through, unconcerned with our presence. We were given a magical, really up-close view of the wild deer grazing on our property on a cool fall night that most hunters hardly ever achieve.
In fact, if I had a strong pitching arm and a large rock, we could've had bambi on a platter. Not that I'd do something like that, but still...I'm making a point.
As in writing, you never know when something beautiful will strike you. Trying to write something delightful doesn't always produce results. Sometimes you need to take a step back and let it come to you on its own.
The deer did...and so will the words.