During the early 80’s I procured a thesaurus desperately wanting to learn how to write using “big words”, (later realizing I was missing the point). The following was the fruits of one such yet untitled attempt, written in the present tense, as a sat beside a reservoir (above) one beautiful afternoon on the Farmington River in Barkhamsted, Ct. I am eternally grateful for the enthusiastic encouragement of my Creative Writing teacher in high school, Ms. Carolyn Price. This is dedicated to her.
I sit alongside a grassy knoll as the fervor of a mid-afternoon sun warms the surrounding countryside. Clouds roll by with pronounced slowness shifting the suns rays behind a puffy, white mass. The sky stretches for miles and parts above a mountain of green, condensed trees in the distance. Trees in the foreground appear progressively larger as they sway in unison with a gentle but prominent breeze.
The lake contains a million ripples each with its own destiny. Their guided undulation is promptly terminated by the inflexible granite stone at waters edge. The invisible wind makes itself visible as patches of water are blown individually in random directions. The sun remains prominent in the sky as it reflects its light off the consenting ripples as they journey aimlessly. Crickets buzz as if to announce the sun's heat along with the calls of several crows echoing across the expansive lake.
The tranquility of the solitude is soon interrupted by the din of an airplane's propeller as it glides through the non-obstructive air. It weaves its way through a menagerie of clouds and effortlessly moves out of sight. The barking of a dog is heard in the distance as it precedes its master down the sloping bank. The man picks up a stick abandoned in the petrification. Tossed high in the air it falls to the clear water below. The dog is already in the water swimming diligently towards the stick, gasping for short breaths as he paddles with swift action. Upon retrieving the stick he retreats from his aquatic confines shaking himself dry after reaching shore. His master greets him with a quick tap on his nape......
And I was just getting started! That much took about an hour if I remember correctly. God’s creation provides a feast of writing inspiration if one simply stops to look and listen. Hope you enjoyed.
Jim
Here’s a pair of Dinosaurs for those who were hoping to see one:
I just wanted to say Blessed Father's Day, Jim.
Happy Father's Day. I remember my creative writing class in high school, too. It was pivotal, leading me into a newspaper career, freelancing, and now writing online. Teachers have tremendous influence.