We have an atrium...

We have an atrium at one end of our veranda. Here's a photo. There aren't any plants in it yet, because water is the problem. There's a tap on the outside wall, but when I turn it on, the water blasts in a hard stream straight across to the other wall and splatters everywhere. A steady drip, drip, drip would be a lot more useful. At least I could put a bucket under it and collect it gradually.

That's sort of the way I've felt about my writing these last five months. When I do turn on the words, I gush. Those who received my five-page Thanksgiving message can attest to that, or my tome telling every detail of celebrating the Festival of the Virgin of Guadalupe with our housekeeper and her husband. I haven't dared turn on the tap and write about releasing baby sea turtles; or coming home to find we'd been burglarized; or what it feels like to watch the sunrise over the Sierra Madre Occidental through our bedroom windows. There's so much to get my head around right now....I may drip, drip, drip here for a while, and then gush forth. Stay with me till I get the flow of this thing. I want to share this adventure, but I don't want my readers trying to drink from a fire hose.