Okay, here is an exercise to work on our description. Describe the colors, shapes, feelings, ect. in this picture. Feel free to add other aspects to the picture, such as music or scents that connect with it. You can use third person characterization or yourself as POV if you'd like, but the focus should be on the description. For instance, what are you or your character wearing as you stand before the tree? Why did you/they choose to put this on at this time? Why are you or they here? This could very well develop into a story.
Reply with your response to the exercise. I'll reply too, but don't look until you've done your own. It will be fun to see how different our responses are.
I made it. Three long days of endless walking, mostly on upward terrain. But I finally made it. I stood in place on the hill, transfixed at the site before me. The twisted trunk rose upward to give birth to a myriad of branches, extending outward like greedy fingers. The tree empowered me and I felt feeble- unworthy. I was sure that the tree’s entirety stood ten times my height. The wind whipped my hair into my face and carried with it a fragrance of something akin to spices. Cinnamon but not quite. No, the air smelled like nothing I’d encountered before.
ReplyDeleteI had to move forward. There was no time to take a break. This was it, time to be judged.
I took a step and then another, slow, cautious. I stopped again about four feet away, unsure how close was too close. The feathery emerald leaves began to dance above and I heard whispers in my head. At first it came as nonsense, but then I heard my sister’s voice in the mix.
I fell to my knees and bowed my head. What should I say? What should I do? All those weeks of ceremonial practice slipped away. I felt the dirt on my pants and skin, the sweat on my skin. Why hadn’t I washed them? I was so unclean . . . so unworthy.
“My sister,” I said. “I’ve come to retrieve my sister’s dream.”
How disrespectful. I’ve failed, I thought. The tree will never grant my wish. I shouldn’t have rushed in like that.
The whispers thinned and then only my sister’s faint murmur hummed into my brain. 'Home with me. Bring him home'.
Out came more unwanted words. “I need to bring him home for her. Where, where is he, Dream Giver?”
I enjoyed your comment. In our society today we are going and going and never stop to just look. To just take a moment to look, listen, and feel what is going on around up. To use our imaginations to create something out of nothing. Oh, when I got to my favorite tree I had my dogs with me, a blanket to lye down on, and my favorite book. I am wearing jean and a tee shirt because it is a beautiful sunny day. There is a light breeze to make the blazing sun bearable. The songs of the bird that have nested in the trees is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteAn unearthed site to where her body now lays under this vibrantly green tree. Up the white and close together branches her spirit climbs into the heavens. The rays of the sun shine down upon those whom she so loved, and the billowy clouds maintain their boundary between her and me. This picture reminds me of the tree under which my family just laid my grandma to rest. The brightness of the sun on the tree helps me feel that my grandmother is happy in her new place.
ReplyDeleteVery poetic. I especially like the "unearthed site" and "boundary between her and me". Great imagery.
ReplyDelete