[Thank you, Jenny Lisk, for gifting me the words above.]
She loved sketching. Always had done. And sitting here, under the trees, surrounded by pine cones, she felt at her most creative. Her skin warm from the afternoon sun glinting through the leaves, she closed her eyes. She could hear the gentle cacophony of sounds all around her, creating an invisible forest tapestry. There were leaves rustling, a dog barking in the distance, the flirtatious singing of birds high up in the trees, and she was almost sure she could hear mushrooms growing under the soil… She opened her eyes, shook her head and laughed. “‘Hearing mushrooms growing under the soil…’ Who has ever heard of that?”, she thought and picked up her favourite sketchbook – the one with the jumble of meerkats on the front – and her pencil. Carefully, she started to make some initial marks on this beautiful virgin piece of paper and wondered what would appear in front of her. She was never quite sure what she was going to draw when she started – much like the author of this story was never quite sure where those random five words would take her and which letters, in which order, would tumble onto the page, until they had all found their place. “But that’s the best part!”, she thought and allowed her fingers the creative freedom they so obviously craved. Slowly at first, then frantically, she placed mark after mark onto the sheet, and a detailed beach appeared in front of her. Ahhhhh… a beach. She squinted. She loved swimming. Loved being surrounded and carried by the water and the lightness it made her feel. “Maybe I should go for a dip”, she thought, before she shut her notebook and started walking…
© Elke Thompson 27/01/24
Published on Jan 29, 2024