This post contributed by TC Crumpton...

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My swing hangs docile on a rusty metal post, calling for a companion to propel it to flight. I push my legs against the wind, then back. My hands grip the chains, elbows bearing out and in, until I glide with the breeze. Together we laugh and study the clouds. The gray masses bully the wooly white puffs from their place in the sky. Thunder growls, chasing the sun into the shadows. As the last leg of light runs away, raindrops dig holes in the dirt. I close my eyes. The wind implores me to swing higher, chilling my drenched skin.

The downpour subsides. I blink to shed the droplets from my lashes and skid my bare feet on the wet sand. Wiry strands of golden hair reflect in a puddle. Rainbow squiggles play in the shallow pool. The birds sing to celebrate the sun's return. Thoughts run rampant through my mind. The slide basks in the aftermath of his cool bath. The monkey bars fret for fear they will not be dry when children arrive. The merry-go-round welcomes the still after the storm and my swing smiles.

I stand in the moment, embracing inspiration as it comes in raw form. Little inspiration derives from closed focus. A second chance childlike perception broadens my scope. Sheer force of movement by wheel or by foot takes me on thinking sprees that explode into brilliance. My senses awaken when I allow myself to notice each angle and color shift. I call these observations ripples. They surround me, waiting to be taken in. Whether I inhale the scent of mulberries and honeysuckle while mowing the yard, or wrinkle my nose as I drive past the cotton mill, I am inspired.

Every creature, company, ice cream flavor, color, as well as every piece of architecture, literature, scientific breakthrough, political movement, and change began with a single idea. The world began with a shred of hope in a thought. I ponder the image existing in my mind, not knowing what form it may take, what it might become, or what genius may draw from it. To know that idea has power and spirit, and move forward in the craft of giving it life, even when I get lost, and even when I don't know how, I hold that idea in my hand and know it is destined for greatness. That is inspiration.