Wednesday Words...Working for What Is Yours

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Ben stood up, rubbing his back and grimacing in pain.  He and his sons had been chiseling through rock hard ground, going on eight hours now. 

The beauty of the landscape had disappeared long ago, leaving desolate what had once been paradise.  As far as the eye could see lay dry dirt.

He swung the pick-ax again and again, another hour then another.

A flicker of dark earth below appeared and he smiled, digging further.  “Keep digging! Boys, keep digging!” Even yet another impending drought and its arid wind could not eliminate the promise of water below.

The deep crater filled with water, rising slowly. Ben leapt into the air, filling it with loud bellows of laughter. “Boys, we hit water!  We’ll start drilling tomorrow!”

Raising his fist and shaking it to the sky, Ben shouted, “Take that, Jerry Brown!  My land has water, and it’s mine!”

In your face!

Source: Off the grid news

Delores at  Under the Porch Light provides bloggers with an opportunity to play with six words and create flash fiction, a short story, poetry, etc.  This week Delores delivered two lists of six words each.  Oh, the fun you may have!  Please have a go at this and see what you might create!  By clicking on the voluptuous grapefruit above, you can access her site.

When You Are Old

starry starry night

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire,

Take down this book

And slowly read and dream

Of the soft look your eyes had once,

And of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man

Loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down

Beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly,

How love fled,

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

William B. Yeats

Good Writing is Good Writing, no matter the age

Bruce Colville, 1993

My love for good children’s books goes way, way back to when I was studying to be a teacher.  The assignment was to create a display that would fascinate a classroom of children and inspire them to read the book shown.

I chose Winnie the Pooh, since I really did not know of many children’s books.  My display was pretty anemic, as was my re-telling of the story.

After that, the world of children’s books also became my world.  A well-written children’s book opens the door for the student to love reading--then to love writing-- and to keep on reading.  Without that initial inspiration, students may not reach for the Moby Dick on the high school library shelf.

One of my favorite read-aloud chapter books was Jennifer Murdley’s Toad.  It was nominated for a California Award for the Third Grade’s favorite book.  A short review goes as follows:

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An awkward and homely girl, Jennifer Murdley lives daily with ridicule from other students.  She wishes she could be like them.  On the way home from school, Jennifer notices an unknown street and a store, Elves Magic Shop.  She purchases a big toad from the very odd proprietor.  The secretive toad starts talking to Jennifer after she leaves the shop.  Through the story, Jennifer learns about his very strange life and the witch out to get him.... Lots of adventures follow.

This book was written by Bruce Coville and was published in 1992 by Harcourt.

It is worth a read, even if you are beyond third grade or graduate school or an old curmudgeon .  Good writing is good writing, no matter the audience.

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Just a note: I have ordered this book from the local Barnes and Noble and will share it with my granddaughters.  Why didn't I use Amazon?  I support local business and stores.  B & N is a long time friend with a then-novel relaxing approach for customers.  I like that.

“Wordless Wednesday”?  Why the heck not?  Great idea!  So, in that spirit, here is where I am visiting as you read this.

Source: dyet

Source: betacam

Source: mejones
Cliff dwelling at Mesa Verde 

Source: betacam



My humble camera and I will not capture such images.  But at least, my mind and words might.  Be back soon.

G-H post: part 1, Galloping--Spirit of the Horse

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The G-H posts veer  away from my tilted writing.  These two posts will actually be an attempt at a serious appreciation of the horse.  I-J posts return with my turn-it-over-and-shake-it approach to writing.

The concept of beauty conjures many images, as beauty is said to be in the eye of the beholder.  At any given time, beauty appears as a flower, child, landscape, art object—endless possibilities.

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Casting my own net about in the sea of beauty, the image of a galloping horse was drawn up.  It was not a random catch.  Horses are one of the most spectacular creatures on God’s earth.

I made a random choice while shopping with a three-year old granddaughter, Sunshine.  She was restrained in the shopping cart (for good reason) and there was a video with the word Spirit as its title.  Sunshine clutched it to her little chest and gave me that pleading piercing gaze only a  3 yr. old child can give. 

  

                                 

Since then, Spirit has been shown innumerable times—so many that even my husband knows the dialogue.  Each time, Sunshine ‘gallops’ around the house, tossing her hair and neighing in unison with the herd of galloping horses.

Tomorrow's post will continue the G-H post about horses.  How did the natives populations view the horse?  

What I Saw on the Drive Home

The valley between the sloping hills stretched and wound around with the creek.  The brittle golden fields met the rocky hills, where rows of avocado groves clung to the rocky sides.  The wind rustled the leaves, birds circled in the sky, and creatures scurried about their lives.  I looked out across the valley and to the mountains beyond.

courtesy of Bing.com

The birds, I remember the birds the most.  The big turkey buzzards cruised on the rising air currents, with their black wings tips furled out.  Around and around, searching for carrion—they hardly seemed to move.  Desperate songbirds stayed close to earth, darting from tree to tree.  Had to get out of sight, get to the next branch.  The black crows sang that annoying song of theirs.  How could any bird be so annoying and yet so beautiful with their glossy feathers, all at the same time?

A red tailed hawk’s cry sliced through the quiet.  Up high, he had been riding the waves of air, but his predator’s eyes remained earth bound.  He folded his wings in, tucked his head down, and dove out of the sky.  It was so fast, so incredibly fast. 

Hawk in flight

He went out of sight, behind an outcropping of rock and manzanita.  In the space of one breath, the hawk rose into the air, a furry rodent in his talons.  Did I really see that happen?  I watched the red tailed hawk recede into the distance, until he was gone.  If I had blinked, I would have missed that display of such beauty and such power.