On Sunday, we had Meeting #2 of our newly formed writers' group. It was literature and creative thought and new friends at their finest. It was, in short, a delight.
We started out with an excerpt by a French author from the 19th century named Colette. The line that kick-started my response was:
I wrote:
I wasn't walking through the mist,
but I remember
with clarity,
leaning my head against the chilled window.
We drove off the ferry,
out of the city,
into the rolling hills.
I watched as the sky moved
from black to navy
navy to pink
pink to golden
edged with a crisp bright blue.
My father,
driving calmly,
pulled over
picked up the camera
captured the colours on film.
No one else stirred.
My brothers,
my sister,
my mother.
Asleep.
And in the silence
I felt compelled
to share
this moment.
This beauty.
Dad?
I whispered.
Good morning.
(this photo is twice cheating. I took it in 2007 & it is a sunset. BUT it works. Right?)
We started out with an excerpt by a French author from the 19th century named Colette. The line that kick-started my response was:
It was on that road and at that hour that I first became aware of my own self, [and] experienced an inexpressible state of grace...
I wrote:
I wasn't walking through the mist,
but I remember
with clarity,
leaning my head against the chilled window.
We drove off the ferry,
out of the city,
into the rolling hills.
I watched as the sky moved
from black to navy
navy to pink
pink to golden
edged with a crisp bright blue.
My father,
driving calmly,
pulled over
picked up the camera
captured the colours on film.
No one else stirred.
My brothers,
my sister,
my mother.
Asleep.
And in the silence
I felt compelled
to share
this moment.
This beauty.
Dad?
I whispered.
Good morning.
(this photo is twice cheating. I took it in 2007 & it is a sunset. BUT it works. Right?)
Oh the blessings of sunrises! and the joys of family memories!
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