Once again, time for some writing for Kellie Elmore’s, Free Write Friday. Opted to go on a bit of a ramble this week, mixing fact and fiction just to see where it goes in the flow of the stream.
The prompt is a bank of words to make use one/all, maybe more than one: lazy – rain – perspective – glint – somber – trinket – static
To check out Kellie’s site and blog, or what other writers have found in writing for the prompt, just click on the image below to traverse The Web to get there.
Anyway, below is my little experiment for the write: The lazy rain perspective
I thought about it all for just a moment, here. I don’t know, where is here? My brothers, well they’re scattered around the globe, Spain, Indonesia, Canada. Well, maybe there’s a little perspective there, between here on the Capricorn Coast, and their faraway worlds, places full of weather, even being fine is still weather, always a breeze, even if it is ever so slight. But here at the western fringes of the Coral sea, perspective can still be found, even if it does feel a little lost at times, or would ambiguous be a better choice of thought. Not sure, still there is a lot of mystery out there and here.
A few weeks ago a lazy Sunday, not too unlike today’s propped itself against this small world here, whe I wanted to finish up some short stories. Actually tales I’ve been sitting on for a few months, but just did not feel like writing, serious fun writing that is, like have a yarn or two in some tavern on an isolated section of coast. At the fringe of the Coral Sea. But I had been lazy, and you know, the weather certainly did not come across as being conducive to a feel for writing something, it was more like curl up in bed, and go back to sleep.
It had been raining for days, the rain just kept falling out of the sky turning dry creek beds into to torrents, talk about blues weather. The kind I tend to turn to walk out into, just to feel it on my face, regardless. To just roam and wander between every thought flowing into my head. So I set out in the madness of the weather to find some isolated stretch of shoreline. Yeah, at the fringe of the Coral Sea, parked up, and stepping out into the light windswept rain, just to walk. Starting out, here at the old Point, the tide turning, and heading out, sand beneath my feet, the first headland up in the distance.
Nothing like it, drifting in tormented weather, just pondering, until the moment arises where a glint as to what might make something good to write, makes its presence known. The headland up ahead has a solid overhang, a bit like a cave, I’ll have to wait before I can write, the words, the lines running through my head, thoughts. It’s amazing sometimes where we are when an idea hits us. I did not expect to catch a glint of anything on the day out at the edge of the Coral Sea, but it happened.
Even while reminisciing about somber and happy times all at once, yes, those be the sort of places wet weather days take me. Much to consider in how to write from experiences, moments lived, past times lost, so much rigging to maintain between dreams, nightmares, and in this world. I like the tangle sometimes, never sure where a direction will open up while traversing the more somber occasions to the weather, but the weather is where I feel the happiest too.
Well made it to the overhang, there’s so much debris left by the tide, but I’ll write a bit first. Please excuse the dropping in and out of past and present tense, just the way it is today. I got my words and lines down, then there came a little time to take a look around, as the rain outside got a little heavier. Right at the back of the cave. There I came across a seal plastic bag, it contained a few small trinket like objects, and a small portable radio. While trying to open the bag, the bottom split, so all the contents spilled on to the rocks, and into the various pools of seawater. I picked up the first trinket I saw, it was a wide, highly decorative silver ring, with an inscription of symbols of some kind on the inside. I placed it in my pocket, and quickly picked up all the other bits and pieces from the bag that I could see.
The little portable radio was partly in one of the pools of water, so I went to pluck it out, when the radio suddenly came to life. No, it just started emitting static, that’s when I noticed a small but infuriated Blue Ringed Octopus, they weren’t at all pleased by the radio’s static. So I gentle picked it up from beneath its tentacles, and turned it off, to once again, hear the static of the weather. With radio in hand, the other items in my pocket, I picked up the busted plastic bag, and bid the octopus farewell as I made my way towards the Cape further north.
For when somber moments arrive, the glint of a small trinket, will always help to break up the static of the day.