|
|
Post by { P A R K E R lewis on Apr 6, 2008 13:19:12 GMT -5
More writing portfolio crap. Don't expect a novel it's only one page. This one was supposed to be all sensory details so sorry if it's a little overboard.
As you close your eyes, feeling the rope woven hammock beneath you sway gingerly in the gentle mountain breeze, you can hear the rushing sounds of the small creek that is somewhere in the distance. You take a deep breath and smell the fresh mountain air, that of pine trees and the natural air, it smells beautiful and alone is enough to enthrall the senses. Over the rushing water, you can make out the gleeful laughter of children and the sound of crickets.
It's nighttime as you open your eyes. You're met with the sight of the silloete of mountains in the background of a lodge behind you, made of wood like a cabin. You can see the glow of fireflies all around you and the air even has a taste. It tastes faintly of smokeyness and the enticing aroma of the mountains sends you into sensory overload again as the wind rustles through the leaves on the trees. But you can't see the trees, there's hardly any light and the fireflies fly over by the creek, illuminating the cascading water and making it sparkle with every move it makes.
You swing your legs to the side and jump off the hammock, the sound of leaves crunching under the weight of your two feet meets your ears as it seems to break the peaceful non-manmade silence. You smile and walk toward the glistening creek that is in front of you. You crouch down and stick your foot into the frigidly cold water, fireflies seemingly very interested in you. They buzz dully around you as you feel the water of the creek gently caressing your bare foot. You don't mind too much that it's cold. You decide to stick your hand in the water as well and it makes you feel slightly colder. You can't barely feel your foot anymore, the water has overtaken it and the nerves in it but you know you'll be fine.
You take your foot out of the water and fold your leg underneath you, making the leaves crumble and crunch again. You feel your heel hit a strong piece of wood, probably the trunk of the tree that your back is leaning on, little pieces of the bark reaching out to grab your shirt and make it stick to the tree. You reposition yourself so that you're sitting upon the root and your back is still against the trunk of the huge, old, tree that's towering high above your head. The moonlight peeks through the branches and you can see some stars out in the sky. They might have been stars, the also could have been the fireflies that seemed to have been attracted to you. You don't really think it matters which, the sight is whimsical either way.
The wind blows again and it sweeps the water up onto your arm, which you quickly remove from the water. You cross your arms across yourself and sit back against the tree. You close your eyes again and let the smells, textures, tastes and sounds of the forest overtake you until you fall into a deep sleep.
|
|
