Writing

I have been trying my hand at this writing lark. How difficult is that? I have some great ideas for features, and begin the process and almost immediately come to a halt. The blank screen stares back at me until the thing goes black. Then I begin again, finish a sentence, switch off and go away.
When I restart I note the sentence is poor and we are back to the blank screen. Reading through 'Wodehouse on Wodehouse' a collection of autobiographies we see him at the top of the tree coming across the same problem. Mind you, he managed to get out of it and become a roaring success most times. I have not reached the stage of 'mere failure' as yet.

Sitting in the Gardens the other day I decided to attempt a feature on them. I think I was inspired by the quietness among dappled pathways, gentle breezes ruffling the leaves around me, all made alive by the sound of bird song. Lovely stuff really. Enjoyable even when the weather is not too hot, but incomparable when the sun shines. I like to go early, before mum brings the kids to run around screaming blue murder, and the adolescents pass through on their way to pretend their studying at the college. In truth, these days I would be very happy with a garden full of trees and bushes, a few hidden paths, lots of colour and bird, a squirrel or two, and a chance to sit watching the sun go down while feeding the feathered ones. Sounds good to me.

Oh well. I had better just water the window box instead......
I would write about that but could you stomach it I ask?