But it's a beautiful day, springtime, with things flowery and it's not too hot, and the muse keeps wanting to make it windy. Not blustery. Making flags fly sort of windy. Giving the songbirds something to dance on. Turns out that my imagination does not believe that still days really are beautiful.
Gonna have to squelch that muse. Her brother is negligent in many respects and in many manners, but he would not put her at risk in that particular manner.