Creative writing

I am setting up a little project in my community where I will be asking people to contribute blog posts about nature/ the natural world and I thought it would be fun to do the same here.

It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or even good… Works in progress welcome. You can stick to nature as a topic or pick something else. This is my first offering to get things started, about taking a walk through the woods as an act of kindness to myself.

Stepping into the shade of the trees almost transcends time, the beginning of a journey where endless possibilities stretch out in all directions. I tread the same path as so many others have and many more will. All of us making our own way, separately but together, part of something bigger.

A twenty minute route stretches out to an hour. Taking the time to pause, to think, to not think, to be. I amble. I stop. I look up. I reach out. I breathe in the scent of the earth and the sound of the birdsong. A twig makes a satisfying crunch underfoot. Squirrels and blackbirds scurry through the dried leaves. A robin dips down onto a fence before flying off again.

I notice. The wallpaper pattern of the rowan tree. The sun turning leaves different shades of green. The shadows and the light shining through. The twists and turns of trunks and branches, the obstacles they grew around long since disappeared. The mushrooms emerging from stumps, the growth alongside the decay. The intricate network of the wood wide web and the life it sustains.

Amazing what we can see when we stop to look.

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Did a little rewrite this morning - this is the published version.

Stepping into the shade of the trees almost transcends time, the beginning of a journey where endless possibilities stretch out in all directions. I tread the same path as so many others have and many more will. All of us making our own way, separately but together, part of something bigger.

I notice. The wallpaper pattern of the rowan tree. The sun turning leaves different shades of green. The shadows and the light shining through them. The twists and turns of trunks and branches, the obstacles they grew around long since disappeared. The mushrooms emerging from stumps, the growth alongside the decay. The intricate network of the wood wide web and the life it sustains, within its boundaries and beyond them.

A twenty minute route stretches out to an hour. I amble. I stop. I look up. I reach out. I breathe in the scent of the earth and the sound of the birdsong. A twig makes a satisfying crunch underfoot. Squirrels and blackbirds scurry and skid through the dried leaves. A robin dips onto a fence before taking off again.

I move through the calm one step, one moment at a time. Expectations and their resentments find their place of irrelevance. The centuries of history here puts my drama into perspective - a scene or even a solitary line. The chaos in my mind quiets and the tension melts, teeth unclench. Finding the space to pause, to think, to not think, to be.

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You know what might be awesome record the stories. As a narrator if you will.

It reads nice!

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Ah recording it is a really nice idea. I might mention that for my project too, to encourage people who aren’t very confident with writing to get involved :slight_smile:

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Well… I don’t think recording is easier then writing.
At least for me it isnt when i try to record some of my work i get super critical. Nothing is good enough and eventually i don’t post it on my page :joy:

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Yea personally I would prefer to write as well, if I had to choose between the two. Easier to edit and move things around! Although I don’t do a lot of writing so this was a different experience for me.

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Well do it again its nice!!!

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Thank you for sharing your writing. You’re very creative. I like words you’ve chosen and put them exactly in order to create something beautiful :heart: I can feel the calm and peaceful energy of the nature. Thank you very much.

PS: I would love to write something like this too. But English is not my first language and I’m still making a lot of mistakes and I don’t know properly the grammar :roll_eyes::smile: I might make mistakes in this text too :smile::smile:

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You should give it a go, it would be good practice! Or you could write in your first language and we could try and work out what you mean, ha.

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This looks like fun, here is mine.

I feel the wind on my face and I see the green leaves moving left and right. She was only 24. She lost a child when she was 19, he was 2.

He outlived her by 50 years. Half a century without the one you love. Half a century before the promise of meeting again. Two broken souls, one left too soon, while the world keept turning for the other.

I spill two drops of my can of coke before I continue looking at the trees. The coke slowly wets the grass beneath me. I don’t know what those trees are named, but there’s beauty in imperfection. It feels natural.

In all honesty, I’d rather be in a beer garden. But that’s not an option right now. However, if the pubs and restaurants were open I would have never learned her name.

She was Anne. Her life was short and painful. And all that’s left is a gravestone from 1876. She deserves to be remembered. He was Peter. I like to think he loved her. And I like to think his last thoughts went towards her as he passed 49 years after her.

They’re all here. They all had their shot at life. Now it’s my turn. Sitting among them, staring at the trees. They need to be remembered, as will I one day.

(I’ve been doing my daily walks in the historical cemetery, it’s quiet and my dog likes it. Reading the stones is my idea of entertainment. Sorry if this was too morbid :smiley:)

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Not morbid, I sometimes stop in at the graveyard near me. I usually just sit but sometimes walk around and read who’s there!

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Nice to know I’m not the only weirdo. I like looking at old gravestones, they’re like puzzles and I can try to imagine what their lives were like.

I saw this quote on a stone the other day which I really liked:

*Life’s battle bravely fought. *
Now it’s time to rest.