The sky outside is a perfect blue, the kind of colour that sweeps away bad moods and sleepiness. The clear sky beckons me in a summer whisper to come outside and play. Twenty eights, pink and grey gallahs and white cockatoos make their way over the house, heading to water and food. A noisy truck zooms down my street. I feel the chill on the back of my neck where the hair used to be. I've just got in from having it cut. Both hubby and bubby are in bed.

This kind of weather makes me want to write more. There's something about the clear blue sky that speaks to me of rest, calm, peace. I love the way staring out into it makes me feel. It is only second to the ocean. While the surface of the ocean is ever changing and restless, the sky is similar, but the changes are slower.

First there's the changes from morning to evening. The colours of morning are the pinks and blues of freshness and bright new light. The same tones are deeper for the lack of sunlight later in the evening when the sun begins to lose its hold on my side of the earth for one more day. Clouds make the sky different, too.

Watching the clouds float by is one of my favourite activities. I love making shapes out of their billowing beauty. I love to spread out on the soft and lush green grass and stare up, up, up into the blue sky. It makes me think of when I was a kid. Summer time, blue skies and remembering my childhood all make me want to write. There's nothing worse than trying to write in winter with your fingertips all frozen and the sniffles to distract you.

It's cold right now, but nothing like the days we had a few weeks ago. This kind of weather is what I often refer to as a Goldielock's day. The day is not too cold, or too hot, it's just right. We're coming into more Goldielock's days soon enough. I'll be more productive then. I've always noticed I have a better time of year for my writing. For some people summer is a difficult time to write. I don't find it so. For me I feel there's less reason to sleep-in during summer. The morning light calls to me and I get out of bed well before the rest of the family.

That just doesn't happen in winter. The mornings are darker and bleak with the cold. The days are also shorter. They're over before you know it. In summer there's time to write early in the morning, late into the balmy nights or just at any time at all. I can always sit a fan in front of me if I'm really desperate. I've done it before. At my desk I have two small desk fans. One is generally enough for me, but hubby needs both blowing.

My mood is different in winter, too. I feel lighter and more joyful in summer. Roll on summer. Better finish here, even though there wasn't much to this entry today.