I recently visited Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater in western Pennsylvania. Wright described his design as organic architecture – a melding of nature and man. As I toured the home, I wanted to sit down and write. I yearned to send all the tour groups on their way so I could enjoy the sound of rushing water, feel the sunshine flowing through the open windows, see the treetops at eye level and taste the creative juices inspired by nature.
As I began my writing day this morning, I realized I didn’t have to take over Fallingwater and hold it hostage to my desires. I have a writing space in my own home with similar features. Our summer has been so hot, I’d become captive in the air-conditioned house. But this morning, fall is beating down the heat. I stepped out onto my second floor balcony, wiped off the table and began to write.
Suddenly, the words came easily after days of struggle, as I sat near the branches of three old maple trees. I gazed out at the wise willow in the backyard, and the sunflowers on the edge of our garden winked at me.