…and I’m at the beach and I see the guy walking there.
And I watch, hoping he’ll walk right past the gulls, disrupting them for a minute so I can get a shot of that feathery disruption.
But I’ve been watching him for a while, waiting, and in the watching a story idea has hatched.
So I walk away, along the beach, alone, where I don’t watch anything.
I mutter out loud, unraveling this idea, repeating and layering and repeating the layers.
I make a few notes but mostly walk and mutter until the idea is pretty solid in my mind.
And then I go home and write it all down.
Turns out it’s a good story… that in itself a small miracle.