The river today is muddy and brown. The froth, peppering its roiling surface, is evidence of the chaos below. It is rushing on its way to where ever the Creator intended for it to flow today. A late summer storm having dumped several inches of rain on us in these the last couple of days, has made the river swollen and angry, seething. Sitting here at my kitchen table, gazing out of my window into the fading light of the day, I wonder at the myriad sorts of critters, swimming in its depths, fighting the currents that are carrying them willy-nilly where ever the river wants to take them. I am mesmerized by the sight of the river and all its movement, and find that spans of time have passed while I have not thought a thought, nor dreamed a dream. I come up from the depths of my meditations and see the trees on the riverbanks, which I can see from my window, are calm and still, waiting for the next breeze to whisper through their outstretched arms.
Watching the leaves, I am again mesmerized by the dance that they are putting on for me. Here a dip and there a turn, bowing to their many partners; then dancing away, gently swirling and whirling to a music that only they can hear, carried to them by the winds blowing through their midst. The speckles of fading sunlight that are showing here and there gloriously costuming them in today's fading light. Their dance ever changing and ever evolving, perfectly choreographed by nature in an intense and rhythmical pattern only known to God.
I emerge, again, from my reverie wondering about dinner, at peace with myself and the world around me, for the momoent anyway. It is then that I hear the pounding on the ceiling that signals that the squirrels are out hunting taking advantage of the break in the weather. I like to watch them too, or should I say I like to listen to them? I hear them over my head far more than I see them. There are some days, when the sun is out and bright, that it sounds like the Hogan Road of squirreldom up there. I am also kind of suspicious of a couple of other sounds that I do not think were 'running-around' sounds because they were last spring and I do not hear them anymore. I believe I will hear them next spring though, and it will make me laugh again, no doubt.
The sun has gone down now, and with its dropping, the rain has started, and as if by some unseen lever that is holding its balance with the weight of the sun, it opens up a flood gate from the heavens, allowing them to empty their rivers into my own. Valiantly battling the darkness all around it, is a watery light spilling from my kitchen window, which I have left open so I can see and hear the sounds of the rain on this night; for it is a peaceful and soothing balm to the stresses of my day. I have found it is my own private method for relaxing and getting myself back together, I don't even mind sharing it with someone as it all begins outside, with the view from my window.
About Me
- leisa
- dover foxcroft, maine
- married mother of five in total three mine and two my husband's children two part time jobs full time student and just loving life. active in my church and member of my local American legion
You've got some strong and fine stuff here, you've got some problems.
ReplyDeleteGraf 1 is a corker; you create all kinds of tension with the image of that river doing whatever the hell it and God want it to do. The last graf also has some fine moments; I particularly like the floodgate idea and the final image of the kitchen light battling against all the powers of night.
Now the problems. The problems are a common problem in nature writing and from what you put in your email last night, perhaps you fell into those problems partially because you were worried about the length of the piece. The problem is overwriting; trying to do too much, not trusting the simpler approach and trying to fancy it up. More words, but IMO, less power.
Take this, for example:
The sun has gone down now, and with its dropping, the rain has started, and as if by some unseen lever that is holding its balance with the weight of the sun, it opens up a flood gate from the heavens, allowing them to empty their rivers into my own. In the inky blackness of the night, there is no sound but the sounds of the rain. Battling mightily the darkness all around it is a very weak light from my kitchen window, which I leave open so I can see and hear the sounds of the night, for it is a peaceful and soothing balm to the stresses of my day.
The first sentence is beautiful writing, utterly and rightly confident. But then you have some doubts and try puffing the material a little bit. Here's how I would revise the second part:
In the blackness of the night, there is no sound but the sounds of the rain. Battling the darkness all around it is a weak light from my kitchen window, which I leave open so I can see and hear the sounds of the night, a balm to the stresses of my day.
To me, that's much cleaner writing, no hankering after effects, just nice muscular prose. The whole piece could be cleaned up that way.
But your mileage may vary. What do you think? (You're allowed and entitled to disagree without incurring the Wrath of John.)
Here's another version of new graf 1, all your words, just fewer and one word moved--what do you think?
ReplyDeleteThe river is muddy and brown. The froth, peppering its roiling surface, is evidence of the chaos below. It is rushing on its way to where ever the Creator intended it to flow today. A late summer storm having dumped several inches of rain has made the river swollen and angry, seething . From where I sit at my kitchen table, gazing out my window into the fading light of the day, I wonder at the myriad of critters swimming in its depths, fighting the currents that are carrying them willy-nilly where ever the river wants to take them. I am mesmerized by the sight of the river and all its movement, and find that spans of time passed while I have not thought a thought, nor dreamed a dream. I come up from my depths...and the trees on the riverbanks are calm and still.
Leisa--is this a third version? If so, tell me, and I'll read it, but it's very hard to do that when I don't have earlier versions to compare to. Post multiples rather than edit within the original.
ReplyDeleteHard to compare! Kill a cybertree next time out! (I did read once that we use the equivalent of the energy it would take to boil a cup of water every time we click on some website....)
ReplyDeleteLet me revise this graf again. I keep coming back to it because I like it so much. The squirrel one does not interest me as much so I tend to ignore it--it's the especially good ones that get my attention:
That's a serious cut! But for my money, it leaves the best. Sometimes the writer (or her editor) has to be cruel!
Whoops, somehow dropped the revised graf from the previous post. Here you go!
ReplyDeleteThe sun has gone down now, and with its dropping, the rain has started, and as if by some unseen lever that is holding its balance with the weight of the sun, it opens up a flood gate from the heavens, allowing them to empty their rivers into my own. Battling the darkness all around is a watery light spilling from my kitchen window, which I have left open so I can see and hear the sounds of the rain on this night; for they are balm to the stresses of my day the view from my window.