Writing Prompts

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Writing prompt No. 20

A weekly writing exercise to get you started

By Heather Wright
Published: November 11, 2011

What’s your favorite natural sound? Wind shaking poplar leaves? Ocean surf? Thunderstorms? One bird’s song? Describe the place that the sound reminds you of. What other senses do you recall? Do you remember a special smell, taste, touch or sight association with this place?

 

Heather Wright's work has been published in local and national publications and on the Web. Her column “Write Angles,” published in What If? Canada’s Creative Magazine for Teens, became the basis of her book, Writing Fiction: A Hands-On Guide for Teens.

 

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MARGOT MCCAMLEY from AUSTRALIA (QLD) said:
A distant rush! Like the swish of water coming from a spa. You stop in your tracks. Mesmerised by the sound. The effect draws you to its source. A cooling effect on a hot summer’s day. A sign reads. ‘2 miles of steep track. Only to be undertaken in daylight. Wear good walking shoes’. You decide you meet the requirements and it is daylight. You follow a slender track weaving through bracken and ferns, brushing past exotic plants, shuffling through composted leaves. Whiffs of earthly undergrowth waft upwards to assault your senses. Floral aromas fill the air. Astringent tangs. Cleansing scents. A refreshing blend of a hundred different earthly fragrances. Above, the sun filters through palms and tropical trees. Down, down. The sun is gone now, the canopy complete. It is as if you have gone into the land of a fairly dell. Start contrast! A turkey, black with a red coxcomb swishes across the path, through the undergrowth. Alarmed! You stop, equally in shock. Cooler now. You continue down over the uneven track, over motely coloured rocks, cautiously crawling down granite boulders, and you grab at the coarse hessian ropes driven into the rock, to ease the passage downwards. Toe holes marks etched into the rock in short steps tell of decades of use. You ease your way between crevices, damp and squishy from escaping springs. You stop to listen to the wilderness sounds. What was once that distant rush is now intensifying to a roar. A mist fills the air, alighting on you like fairy dust. Suddenly through the dark, a light appears. Distant sunlight. The fairy godmother has arrived sprinkling beauty everywhere. Trees sparkle. Plants glisten, the distant light, a brilliant whiteout, shows you the way. The roar is now deafening, blanking out the troubles of the world. A new sign emerges. ‘When in full flood, you are advised to wear a raincoat.’ No way. You want to feel this rush and roar. You want to be cleansed. In front of you, you see a platform. You approach it cautiously. Its tubular frame and concrete form is impersonal, a stark, cold contrast to the beauty about you. It is wet. Slippery. You know why you have been warned to wear good walking shoes. Your joggers are perfect. God’s fairyland is before you. An hour there watching, listening, enjoying, refreshing the soul. You turn to face the trek upwards. A new sign. ‘Take your time to enjoy the beauty. This 2 mile track will be a challenge. Rest often. Fast down, a tough trek back. Take time to smell the forest. It will be worth it.’
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