Writerly Places 5: Poems in the Attic
There is something about attics especially when, like this one a little outside Simla, all you can see is cedar and teak forest, range after range in all directions. At dusk the shadows encroach slowly creeping up the tree line. At dawn, the highest branches sparkle in the sun while the rest of the forest still slumbers in pine green darkness.
It’s a great place to write and think and drink coffee and use up notebook pages. Poems, sketches, story ideas.
Up there at the top of the world with forest below and nothing but sky and words around.