One Thousand Words
I often lament that I don’t write or create more. This year I aim to change that, and in the process improve both my writing style and my ability to sit down and just focus. I expect that it’ll start badly, and probably end that way as well
The task is simple, write one thousand words a week (or there abouts) on anything that I can think of. Some of it will be recounts of what I’ve done, some will be thoughts on the world in which we all live, and maybe some short stories in there as well. I’m sure that I’ll miss some, if I do then so be it, I won’t be trying to make them up as that could quickly make the task so daunting as to scare me off. Likewise, there will be times that I go over, if so then: yay, I’ll have done a thing!
This isn’t written for anyone other than myself, and I don’t expect that the words that I put to “paper” will ever be read by something other than a web crawler. But I hope that it will act as a vehicle for reflection on my thoughts on a variety of topics and kick start some of my long fallow skills, both writing and critical thinking.
So here goes… (and yes, the above words count towards this week’s total).
Today I woke up to a new year, in a foreign country, somewhere strange and new to me. Snow was falling outside my window, blanketing an already new world in another level of strangeness. Snow is something that I’ve experienced before, I rather enjoy it, but rarely like this. Fat flakes falling from the sky to blanket the earth, building up the landscape at the same time as it smothers it beneath a soft coating of fluffy water.
With nothing planned, this strange newness pulled me into it, tickling my sense of adventure, calling me to explore. So, I put on my shoes, coat, beanie, and gloves, and set off not knowing exactly what I would find.
Tentatively I started, walking down the drive of the place I am staying, it being one of those idyllic few with old trees lining each side and covering it in a canopy of now show covered branches.
My first foray was out into an open field to simply experience its vastness. Sky over head and nothing taller than a stalk of grass nearby, the silence of a world covered in snow was mesmerising. Whilst I don’t want to say I bored of it, this was new and novel after all, I did. Calming though this was it wasn’t the adventure that I was after. Heading back to the drive, and the shelter of the trees I once again set off in search of something more.
As I walked show continued to fall around me, not the snow of the sky, but the snow of the trees. Built up on them over the night, the piles would get so high as to fail under their own weight. Mini avalanches falling around me, sometimes they would make it to the ground intact, conglomerates of flakes seemingly forming a single large one. Sometimes they would impact branches on the way down, causing even more, or breaking apart into a mist of tiny flakes. The sound of their impacts the only thing to accompany the crunch, crunch, crunch of my steps compacting the snowfall that lay in my path.
Coming to a turn in the road I found what appeared to be a trail off to the side. The road heading towards a house, I decided that this would be a far more interesting path. Bordering a field, the land dropped off to one side down towards a river that I could hear but not see. Unable to follow the sound due to the steepness of the slope I continued, following the dry-stone wall that bounded both the field and my path.
The path ended under a stand of pine trees, the ground free from snow and instead covered in a blanket of dry leaves. Finding no further way forward I spent several minutes exploring the refuge in which I found myself. The ground was wet from a mix of frozen and melted snow raining down from the trees above. The soft patter of it the only sound.
Retreating along the path I made my way back to the tree covered drive, my foot falls changing from the soft rustling of wet leaves to the hard crunch of snow. Again I walked down the drive, this time towards the road. On reaching it I chose the direction that would take me towards the woodlands of the area.
The road started out with some turns, each tempting me to continue, with the promise of adventure just around the bend. Until finally the bends finally ran out and all I was left with nothing more than a straight road stretching out in front of me.
Momentum dragging me forwards I continued to trudge along the road, finally catching sight of someone in the distance. As we drew closer together, they waved and called out a greeting. Returning it and drawing to a stop we begun a conversation of pleasantries that then flowed into talking about the local surrounds. As it turned out there was a nice walk down by the river that I had heard earlier, if I was willing to brave possibly getting a bit wet.
Setting off with a new sense of purpose I continued down the road, watching the side for signs of a trail. After ten minutes I finally found a single set of boot prints heading through the snow and passing through a wall of tree and shrub branches, into the unknown. At last, true rambling!
Pushing my way through the snow-covered impediments I made my way along what could generously be called a goat trail. Slow progress finally gave way to something more substantive as the plants gave way to a small path running next to an irrigation ditch, which finally intercepted what I can only think of as a fire trail. Given that I was on the hunt for a river I turned downhill and continued along a trail surrounded by a mix of trees. Intermittently several towering pines would result in the snow-covered ground giving way to a mushy earth, my boots sinking into it with a satisfying squelch.
My path continued much the same sometimes as the exceedingly obvious fire trail, sometimes a well-trodden path, and sometimes a goat track. After time that I refused to count I could see a vast break in the canopy ahead. Surely this was it, the river!
Sadly not, the water did not move, instead sitting stagnant and icing over. I had found a pond. Undeterred, I skirted it’s edges until I heard it in the distance, the constant burbling sound that can only be a large body of water with rocks in it. Making my way along a more well-travelled path I finally came to it. The River.
There it was, between two snow covered banks, gurgling away as it flowed over rocks and around roots, under snow covered branches and the cloud laden sky. It was magnificent.