I’ve got two hours between Zoom meetings, and I just feel like writing. This is what Moose Lodge was supposed to be about. It was intended to be a place where I’d constantly be inspired to write my best work.

When I was a kid growing up in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, it felt like the seasons lasted forever, and the worst part was early spring or late fall, when it was hard to play outside and there didn’t seem to be much to do outdoors. It was the in-between season when you couldn’t ride your bike because of ice, or it was simply too cold.

Yet here at Moose Lodge, the seasons fly by so fast that I barely have time to get comfortable with all the changes in weather. We don’t have four seasons here—we have about eight, because the transitional periods are just as distinct as the peak seasons. I’m in that phase right now. We’re one month into fall, and the leaves are turning, but it feels like summer outside. The nights are cold, with a daily 30-40 degree temperature swing.

Because everything changes so quickly, I’m inspired to write all the time. I notice little things that inspire me to write about a topic or dig deeper into something that captures my attention. I realized the other day that I’ve never had a day here where I felt depressed. I’ve been disappointed in the outcome of something, but never depressed. It got me wondering if it was something about this house or the setting, and I think it’s the setting.

It’s been one of the biggest lessons about being here: our creative environment matters more than we think.