Feathered mystery

Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020.

This is an Eurasian Collared-Dove.

The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery. ~ Anais Nin

Where’s the head? Are those wing or tail feathers? Did a tornado just blow through?

Forgive me, Sherlock

I’ve just started working again on a YA project that’s gone through many on-again-off-again phases. The reasons for that aren’t important (mostly because I’m not entirely sure why this project has been the biggest-mule-of-a-novel-ever.) What does matter is that I’m reminded (again) how difficult it is to bounce back from an off-again period when working on a project that is kinda, sorta a mystery. Mysteries require a precise sprinkling of clues and epiphanies, and that sprinkling would be hard enough to pull off if I’d written this book in a timely and consistent manner. As in, a day-after-day writing schedule that helped me keep ALL the details straight until this draft was finished, rather than periods of intense work followed by months of neglect.

So much unnecessary confusion.
Oy.

sherlock

Sherlock’s disdain burns in my soul . . .

 

 

 

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Amelia, is that you?

This morning I took my exercise and yoga routine to the basement in order to escape the cacophonous roofers. As I did a quad stretch next to the support post, something caught my eye:
_mg_0300-amelia-earhart-inititals

AE?
My first thought was that those initials were etched by Alex E., one of Zebu’s best friends throughout childhood. But then it hit me: Amelia Earhart!

Because look what else I found just inches from those inititals:
_mg_0303-route-or-island

That’s clearly either a flight route or maybe even a rough sketch of Howland Island where Amelia was headed on that fateful flight. Do you know what this means? I’ve uncovered a clue that could help solve the mystery of Amelia Earhart’s disappearance!

Wow! Who knew what was in store when I woke up this morning?!

(Okay, okay. Cut me some slack. I’m suffering the effects of WAY too much loud noise. The hammers are echoing in my head.)

 

 

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