Gazebo by the Meadow

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image source: google stock photo

One of my favorite ways to practice writing is to pick a random picture and set the scene - maybe even throw the reader into a story unfolding in that very scene. These are small excerpts of bigger stories that not only make me think creatively, but that also inspire me and give me new ideas when I come back to them. Feel free to try it yourself, I’d love to see what you come up with.

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The dirt road took a sharp turn, and emerged a path to the east, the entrance surrounded by thick shrubbery. The scene was a magical golden yellow with patches of bright green grass and bushes of vibrant red flowers. A few benches lined the small dirt path that then led up to a stormy, gray, stone gazebo, hidden behind large evergreen trees. The floral scent of the red flowers mixed with the earthy smell of the tall birch trees and the fresh dewy grass below them and floated back up towards me. I heard a snap and turned my head to locate the source as a small rabbit bounded out of the bushes and into the open, staring at me in horror as though it fell out by mistake. It leapt towards the stone construction and I followed behind it hesitantly, the light birch pillars becoming more regular and as I made my way up. It appeared to be about four yards in diameter and the arches surrounding the circumference combined around eight feet above the middle of the circle. It was made entirely out of the dark blue stone, its color seeming fluid as though it was colored with opalescent watercolors. The warm air formed a perfectly temperate bubble around me, sitting comfortably on my skin. Lady bugs buzzed about the shrubs and butterflies glided by, resting their yellow and blue wings upon the thick bases of the oldest trees. Cartoon-esque mushrooms of a vibrant red hue surround their bases covered in white polka dots. Unseen birds whistled to one another in the topiary, occasionally emerging from the tops of some trees to dive back into others. I emerged from the gazebo and ventured behind the benches and front line of trees to my right, finding myself in a meadow surrounded by thick forestry on two sides and another opening to a large cliff overlooking a savannah. The meadow had the sweet taste of summer in the air and the sun was positioned just right, peeking out from the hazy pink and red clouds that decorated the mustard yellow sky. I laid out in the soft grasses where tall flowers peeked up from the masses of golden wheat. The beams that reached out from behind the clouds hit my hair and I peered through its auburn glow to watch the clouds migrate across the sky. The warmth of the wheat bed cocoons around me and off I float in a cloud of their embrace, softly lulled to sleep by the sound of winds brushing the tips of flowers together.