The view from the bench in the Writer's Garden at Weymouth, a favorite place to sit and ponder in between pages. I'm here for a few days to work on the novel-in-progress. Took a walk through the big field to the woods yesterday and there were the three ravens... they keep me focused. Back to the desk in the magic mansion.

For the past year or so, I've been hounded by ravens. Three at a time, usually, in various places in my life. They call outside my office window, fly beside my car on vacations, and sit in my fields here at home. Before we moved they used to pace outside our fence, taunting the Corgyn. The raven has a long history of being an omen, having to do with magic and shapeshifting, teaching how to bring light from darkness. The odd thing: my current novel in progress has to do with signs and omens, and there are ravens in it that predated these real ones, this conspiracy of ravens. I've tried to get photos but they fly away before I can snap the shutter. So here is the raven figure from my sandplay collection, the only one I can capture right now. I'll keep trying.

I'm working on a new photograph, but in the meantime, today is the autumn equinox, when we're halfway between midsummer and midwinter. A wonderful opportunity, in this harvest season, to meditate on light and darkness. Some ways to do this today: go outside and notice the sunlight and the shadow cast by your own body. Look at the pages you're working on and think about light and shadow in whatever way is meaningful to your story. Experience the sunset this evening, from light all the way to dark.

Consider this an invitation to share your thoughts on light and darkness.

This landscape, done by my husband, makes me think of first draft fiction and the quote by Andrew Wyeth: "I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."