Into the Wood
{Settings: One}
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 was quiet. All there was to be heard was a slight breeze pushing the trees and the sound of them reaching back to touch one another when it let up. As they swayed slowly, the light pushing through the cracks of the topiary found new spotlights on varying leaves. Sunlight streamed through the thinned eastern row of trees like banners hanging above the road. The golden green up above was a stark contrast to the bluish-gray hues that painted the cool earthy ground. The corridor was peaceful with mossy patches that looked soft enough to lay one’s head down on. I look to the tree closest to me; its trunk twice as wide as I am long. The bark is cool and hard as I trail my fingers along the cracks embroidered into it. I move the cool stones surrounding the base of the tree and lay my back against it. A singular stream of sun warms my face and I see particles of dirt and dust dancing through it. I look up into the tassels of leaves above and watch squirrels bound from branch to branch. Birds flutter and sing as the wind travels through the tops of the trees swaying the branches they rest on. I hear a brook bubbling somewhere closeby. The water sings quietly, bubbling over the stones stuck in the bank. There’s nothing like the roar of rivers, smashing into the walls of earth that surround it. I hear a motor in the distance. The gleam of the dimly lit headlights gets brighter coming over the hill. Its roar snaps me out of my haze and as it whizzes past; the air surrounding it blasts my hair across my face. The exhaust groans and quiets as the car gets further away, leaving an imprint of the tires behind it. The animals that hid away from the loud noise now return, the soft pitter patter of their bounds shaking the branches and releasing leaves to sprinkle their way down to the forest floor. I lay my hand down and push into the soft dark earth; it's damp enough to feel cool to the touch but not so wet that it sticks to my hand. My head rests lightly on the tree trunk and I doze off, the sounds of the swaying trees, babbling brook, and pouncing woodland creatures lulling me to sleep.