Wednesday, April 25, 2012

HAWMC, Day 25

Third person post. Write about a memory you have but describe it using the third person. Use as many sensory images (sights, sounds, textures, etc) as you can. Don’t use “I” or “me” unless you include dialogue.

The birds are singing in chorus, so many trills and tweets, no sense can be made from the cacophony. The sun is just rising. The early light is streaked across the forest floor, the shadows of the redwoods stretch between the shards of light that seem to shimmer with the morning dew. The crunch of leaves underfoot and the fog of her breath are her only companions. Her cheeks are numb, bright pink with the cold, her thighs ache with the effort of her long, uphill strides. A squirrel darts in front of her, chatters angrily as he scampers up a nearby tree in a spiral, casting a distrustful eye at the woman with every revolution of the sky-high trunk. Five, six, seven times he goes around as she watches him climb. A bird of prey soars high in the sky, only visible for a moment through the thick canopy. A noise nearby, she whirls to see several deer just on the other side of a clump of trees. They graze on ferns and grass, seemingly unaware of the woman who watches them. They gingerly walk closer, she holds her breath. Then, a doe makes eye contact, freezes. The world seems to stop turning altogether as the two females regard each other. The human looks away first, slowly turns to leave with the hopes that the deer won't be frightened by her movement. They all turn to watch, but make no move to bolt. The woman walks away, but looks back after several steps and smiles when she sees the deer have gone back to their breakfast. Pleased, she walks on.