This tree house here inspired me the most. I looked at it and immediately thought, "I want to sit in the very top room and write." As an introvert, being in the most remote space, alone with the thoughts in my head, is sheer bliss.
Unfortunately, this summer I feel like I've been stuck at the bottom of the tree pretending to be an extrovert. The constant traffic of people and activities have blocked the stairway to the quiet space in my head where I can sit alone and write. Without the quiet place of inspiration, my writing has stalled.
So I'm going to keep looking at this picture, letting that quiet upper room with the fantastic view through the trees call to me until I can push everything else aside, climb the stairs, and write.