Up Overlook Trail just outside of town on First St West, Sonoma, this May day feels like summer. A week ago the trail was muddy, now the red dust rises in puffs and the light in the meadow wavers in the sun. Seed heads are turning brown. I see a pair of titmice, an orange-bellied snake, and a dozen lizards who race down the trail then freeze, testing their camouflage. The Manzanita vibrates with cicadas, but the creaking buzz stops when I walk by. They’re testing their instruments, sliding their bows against un-tuned violins, too shy to keep up the song if there’s an audience.That’s how a writing project feels after so much time – stiff, squeaking, testing the same old words again, again, again.