An ideal day for writing is a dull wet one. The kind that makes staying indoors a relief; when it's nice to look out the window but not that tempting to go out. November springs to mind.
But now it's April, and a warm one at that. Today I've been outside with the kids playing ball, eating ice cream. Sitting outside cafés. Yesterday was similar.
Not much writing's being done. But I'm getting lots of ideas. Taking in images and putting them together as rough plots.
So it's not a problem. Sometimes we all need thinking time.