So many things going on right now. Writing is not one of them. At least not one that is coming easily. I’m switching between projects, keeping up with prompts, reading, reading for research purposes, and yet… and yet. I know when I get lost in reading for fun (even if I tell myself that I’m looking at story structure, character arc, etc. etc.) I am avoiding something. So, I’m trying to figure out what exactly I’m avoiding. I’m not under any pressure to finish a project by an externally imposed deadline, I’m not dealing with crap I’d really rather not deal with. So, what’s the problem?
This week prompt was a visual from Leigh Kimmel. It is titled “Wave Motion” and you can see it on this week’s list at More Odds Than Ends. I went back this morning to remind myself and see what I could come up with in response. What popped out surprised me. I love the beach. I mean, I feel a need to walk on a beach on a daily basis, something I have not been able to do except for brief periods of time for the last twenty years. Growing up I was on the beach almost every day. I used to say that I could never live very far from the ocean because otherwise I would feel hemmed in and claustrophobic. Well, adulting and adult life has done the impossible and pulled me away from the beach. Leigh’s picture exposed a great deal of longing I hadn’t been paying attention to. I really need to get to the beach and soon.
This beach was two blocks from my high school. Yeah, I was spoiled. It was a magical place to grow up and I miss it all the time (not that I can afford to move back, mind you…)
Windansea Beach, La Jolla, California
The beach has always been a happy place for me. A place where I can rest, relax, let my mind wander and my soul refresh itself. Being near water is good; I live a couple of long blocks from the Schuylkill River now, for which I’m grateful, but there’s something about the ocean that just resonates with me. So, here’s what I came up with:
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Waves
Waves breaking on the shore, hissing through the sand.
Lapping at my feet and pulling pieces of seaweed back out to sea.
Surfers rising and falling over smaller waves, looking for “that one” to drop in on and ride.
Memories of body surfing and tumbling in the waves.
Big waves crashing down, creating that distinctive beach roar.
Breaking apart over the rocks.
Small waves rippling across a toddler’s feet, eliciting squeals of happiness combined with trepidation.
Waves creating rhythms which keep me grounded and free at the same time.
