Thursday, May 11, 2006
AMHERST WEDNESDAY WRITERS
Last night Pat gave the suggestion: Describe a place or landform; be the landform, write from its perspective; or about the landform
Time moves slowly, geologically speaking. Where once my rough and grainy surface protruded from the soil, I became smooth, washed by millions of years of wind and rain. A rivulet here, a torrent there, and geologic masterpieces are formed.
Patient and still I waited in the middle of the desert and beyond the ridge of mountains that towered over the plains. Red rocks, marked by layers of sediment, found a new shape in each millennium. I felt the trickle of water and the rush of wind brush the surface of my rocky hide. Nothing changed quickly.
I remembered the beginning of time, and God looked upon the earth, looked directly at me and said, “Wait ‘til they see this?”
Millions of years passed. Millions of acre feet of water poured through the deepening waters of the mighty stream that began to stretch and crack the weakest geologic points in the pattern of my layered rock.
Those who stand now on the sides of high precipices surrounding my valleys stare with utter amazement and are aware of the hand of God. The wait was painful, but worth every precious drop of rain. I am one mighty, grand, incomparable canyon.
Last suggestion for the evening:
Visualize an edge—tangible or experiential
Adriana held back her tears. Not worth crying about. Everything will be….
Paul leaned in toward her. She felt his breath as he sighed and spoke quietly. “You really need some rest now.”
Rest, yes, she warmed to the idea and closed her eyes. When she sensed she was alone, she rose from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. Adriana picked up her keys from the table, walked past her purse, looked back at the familiarity of her life, and opened the door.
Behind the wheel of the car, Adriana let her mind wander. She had no direction in mind, and turned only when the light was red. The continual red lights and right turns led her in a circle a mile wide. She watched the steering wheel circle right and return.
The gas tank was half full, but she did not even look. The radio talk show host took phone calls from listeners, but she never heard the questions. Adriana was lost in a spiral of interior dialogue and the small circle of her life spun out of control.
As if awakening from a dream, she saw the light turn yellow and merged to the left turn lane. I will make a choice, she said out loud and waited for the signal to change.
The road narrowed and the gravel grew rough beneath the tires. Trees disappeared, the sky opened up, and the choice became clear. Before her she saw the emptiness of life and knew that she could drive into the quiet night on the other side of the edge.
Last night Pat gave the suggestion: Describe a place or landform; be the landform, write from its perspective; or about the landform
Time moves slowly, geologically speaking. Where once my rough and grainy surface protruded from the soil, I became smooth, washed by millions of years of wind and rain. A rivulet here, a torrent there, and geologic masterpieces are formed.
Patient and still I waited in the middle of the desert and beyond the ridge of mountains that towered over the plains. Red rocks, marked by layers of sediment, found a new shape in each millennium. I felt the trickle of water and the rush of wind brush the surface of my rocky hide. Nothing changed quickly.
I remembered the beginning of time, and God looked upon the earth, looked directly at me and said, “Wait ‘til they see this?”
Millions of years passed. Millions of acre feet of water poured through the deepening waters of the mighty stream that began to stretch and crack the weakest geologic points in the pattern of my layered rock.
Those who stand now on the sides of high precipices surrounding my valleys stare with utter amazement and are aware of the hand of God. The wait was painful, but worth every precious drop of rain. I am one mighty, grand, incomparable canyon.
Last suggestion for the evening:
Visualize an edge—tangible or experiential
Adriana held back her tears. Not worth crying about. Everything will be….
Paul leaned in toward her. She felt his breath as he sighed and spoke quietly. “You really need some rest now.”
Rest, yes, she warmed to the idea and closed her eyes. When she sensed she was alone, she rose from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. Adriana picked up her keys from the table, walked past her purse, looked back at the familiarity of her life, and opened the door.
Behind the wheel of the car, Adriana let her mind wander. She had no direction in mind, and turned only when the light was red. The continual red lights and right turns led her in a circle a mile wide. She watched the steering wheel circle right and return.
The gas tank was half full, but she did not even look. The radio talk show host took phone calls from listeners, but she never heard the questions. Adriana was lost in a spiral of interior dialogue and the small circle of her life spun out of control.
As if awakening from a dream, she saw the light turn yellow and merged to the left turn lane. I will make a choice, she said out loud and waited for the signal to change.
The road narrowed and the gravel grew rough beneath the tires. Trees disappeared, the sky opened up, and the choice became clear. Before her she saw the emptiness of life and knew that she could drive into the quiet night on the other side of the edge.
