Picture it and Write! is a regular post series over at Ermeila Blog where every fortnight they post a picture and you can right what comes to your mind when you think about it. Before I confuse anyone, here’s what they’ve said:
I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook.
They’ve got tons of pictures to write on but this is the one I chose to write on first:
My fingers brush the scarred barks of weathered sentinels as I amble aimlessly beneath their leafy canopy that casts a dream-like glow all around me. The earth is firm beneath my bare feet, with every step I take my toes tingle with its energy. I have not any fear of getting lost for this forest is my playground, the plants and trees are my play things that I bend at my will.
Crisp leaves rustle in my wake as I make my way to the tall, dense brush in my path that was swaying slightly in a non-existent wind. This wasn’t the work of Mother I see, I inspected it with a critical eye. I tilt my head this way and that, then I hear the softest of giggles. Ah, the sprites are at work with their mischief then. Amused, I raise my arm and splayed my fingers, caressing the calm air. It’s leaves shiver, I breathe deeply in. My fingers now clenched, the leaves shudder. I breathe out a whoosh of air. Then my hand swiftly falls to my side, soon after the brush parted before me and I felt the vibrations of tiny feet scampering away, their laughter now more audible.
In front of me now lie more trees but they are thinner and the air is cooler in these parts, my dress no longer clings to my knees. I set out in search for the perfect tree, but that’s the thing. Trees are all flawless as they are crafted by Mother, they have their virtues and what normal men sees as their faults are actually what makes them unique. But for now I look for one that’s perfect for a swing.
I found a promising one right next to my brother’s brook. I couldn’t see from here if he was basking beneath the water. I walk up to the giant of a tree and curtsied; not because I can make them do what I want them to doesn’t mean I shouldn’t show respect.
“Could you please let down a supple branch for a swing?” I ask, “What’s your name? I’m Miya ”
Leaves rustled in unison, “I’m called Rayl,” and down came a simple swing of leaves and flowers.
Up I went and down again and from what I can see from this height it turns out that brother of mine is up to no good, he’s upstream pulling some prank on a water nymph. I contemplate on joining him, it’s been a while since our mama yelled the ears off of my head but I settle on staying where I am.
And so I swung into the evening, immersing myself in the world around me. The lazy breeze of one of my friends of the wind, the soothing trickling of the stream beside me. I hear and feel the life around me, it completes me. I take in as much as I can today, life isn’t as blissful forever and the troubled vibrations I feel tells me of impending disaster. The other earth benders feel it too. From childhood, children of all the elements are trained in basic defense and offense but we rarely need use it, but things are changing though not everyone knows it yet.
I know nothing good will come of it but … I can help but feel excited. In all my seventeen years life has been relatively good but boring. We’ll most definitely encounter more people of the wind, water and fire. The other girls, they think about the boys especially the fire benders, they’re uncommon in these parts, but I’m more interested to learn how they live, our differences and our similarities and what makes us connected as we are in this huge and mysterious web of life.
Night is about to fall, and I must leave but I’ll come back tomorrow, and the days after because I know that I have to keep each and every good memory that I can. I’ll need them to fight against the darkness brewing in the horizon. But for now, I’ll dwell on what I can see today like the white crescent of the moon partially snuggled beneath the clouds, the owls fresh for the night and the music of the forest.
Devina here 🙂 I think a lot about the elements, making up stories in my head, and I find that I’m more of an “Earth Child”. It wouldn’t surprise you that I’m a fan of Avatar, but the rules in my world are considerably different though I haven’t gotten around writing them down as yet. Hope you liked this, and as always suggestion and constructive criticism are welcome.