One thing I’ve liked about running a website is that it feels like there is a flow, like it is alive. Just as in the transient nature of life, a post is made, then it fades, and a new subject takes its place. It is in the moment. Then, it has become a building block woven into the interconnectedness of the web.
But, as I hinted at earlier this year, I’m planning to change my priorities somewhat in how I spend my writing time. Much as I wish I could do it all, I’ve got some projects pending that simply won’t get done unless I spend less time doing the online work at the pace I’ve been keeping around here. Plus, I don’t believe in stagnation. Change is good.
What are my new priorities?
For more than a year, I’ve wanted to work on a freelance piece that never gets done because of what I do here. I want to follow that through to completion. There will be more after that.
Some work that I’ve done on this site in the past warrants more attention. I knew that when I worked on a particular subject a couple of years ago here, but, now, with the recent encouragement of a Professor from Australia who has taken interest in the project by giving me guidance, I plan to work on getting it published in, at minimum, E-book form, and, hopefully, hard copy, too. Thank you, Keith.
Unrelated to writing, I’m also on the schedule to do an art show here in Boulder a number of months down the road, which I’m looking forward to very much.
So expect posts here on Big Picture Agriculture to be less frequent and more sporadic going forward, perhaps more like twice a month.
All in all, my new goal is to try to enter a more professional level in my writing efforts, not to diminish that this has been a Google News site which I’ve been proud of, but I will have far more flexibility in the way I approach writing, which by now has become an important part of me.
Finally, I will leave you with a photo of a baby hummingbird fledgling which I took two days ago on Balboa Island. Being from the Midwest, I’d never seen a hummingbird nest before, and I’d be lucky to ever see one again. I hope the bird makes it, since there was a cat living on the porch below.