I woke up Sunday uncertain what to do.

“Should I drive south and look for snowy owls?” I wondered.

It was tempting. The forecast was for cold and clear weather, and the possibility of seeing snowy owls is a time-limited opportunity here. There was no guarantee that I’d see one if I went out, but on the other hand, I definitely wouldn’t if I didn’t go looking.

I glanced around me at my desk, my notebook and pen. I heard the coffee pot burbling and felt the warmth of the wood stove gently pulsing against my back. In a little while, the sun would rise and the birds would be visiting. The idea of a lazy, lingering Sunday morning at home tugged at me. I love the quiet of the house when I’m the only one awake and when all deadlines are distant enough to ignore for at least a little while.

Still, I was torn.

I had a little time before I had to decide, so I opted to write for a bit before making up my mind. I opened up the most recent prompt from the New Year’s Poetry Challenge from MOST (the Modesto Stanislaus Poetry Center). Much to my surprise, it was entitled “A Chance Encounter.”

I put down my pen. “Well, that’s that,” I said aloud. It was a definitive sign, or at least I interpreted it as one: I needed to get out there and look for a snowy owl! I didn’t even read any further. I took another sip of coffee, shut my notebook, and packed up my things. Within about 10 minutes, I was on the road and on the hunt for snowy owls.

Here’s how the morning unfolded:

I did not see a snowy owl, nor did I return to write anything in response to the prompt, but I enjoyed a thoroughly gorgeous morning on the beach and at the marsh.

It felt like the right choice.