Please go outside, to a spot where you can experience some "Nature."
1) Walk around for a while
to get rid of the stress and just enjoy the feeling of being free and having
time and being out in the sun....
2) Then sit down and spend
at least 10 to 15 minutes doing nothing - just sitting somewhere "in
Nature." Please watch and listen to what is going on around you: the bird
and insect sounds, for example, the wind, the waves, the sun, the grass, the
moss, a squirrel, a gull, a tree etc.
3) Focus in on something
you find particularly interesting (e.g. a plant, a rock, an animal, a cloud,
the light, the movement of the air, the voice of the ocean, etc). Stay with
that being or phenomenon for a while and imagine you are him/her/it or part of
him/her/it. What would it feel like? How would your day look like if you were a
rock or a squirrel etc?
4) Try to come up with a
good personal and original definition of the being/phenomenon you have met.
5) Then write a story
either about the being/phenomenon or about your encounter with him/her/it. You
are welcome to do some research on the being/phenomenon you have observed and
include what you learned about him/her/it but your story can also be totally
imaginary/fictional/made up.
Breathe in the Sun, the Wind, the Air, the Smells and listen to all the Music around you!
Enjoy!
g
Moon- a spherical body of ethereal light against the darkness that consumes it
ReplyDeleteI catch a glimpse of you in broad daylight, hovering in the blue sky like an illusion. As I sit here on this rock, your force tugs at the cool water on the sand. This power within you pulls the tides, the nature of the sea in your control. Your celestial face disappears as days pass, then slowly you turn your face back towards Earth. From afar you are a thing of beauty and serenity, but up close, you are nothing but a piece of lifeless rock. A face filled with craters and dust with nothing inhabiting upon you.
Yet as I sit here, I cannot help but be mesmerized. When the sun sets and darkness rises, as rays of light reflect upon your face, I too feel the pull of your force.
I love your definition and story of the moon! I find it interesting that the moon, basically just a rock in space can be so magnificent and mesmerizing.
DeleteOcean air: beckons you into the ocean itself; home to seagulls and salt and strangers with sandy soles/souls
ReplyDeleteThere’s something about being at the edge of the ocean but not quite in it. Everything either seems so much more alive or on the edge of slumber. I can taste the salt in the back of my throat without submerging myself in the water. I can feel the current pulling me back and forth as the sand slips beneath my feet.
I think a lot of people come here find answers. The vast horizon that opens up once you pass the undergrowth or urbanized architecture. You can see for miles and miles, and sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll catch the sun just as it seems to slip away. Where fire and water collide, defying the laws of the world. There are secrets hidden in this place, secrets that draw people in.
I’m only here for the school semesters so whenever I’m at the beach, it’s often cold. And yet, no matter the chill the air brings, there’s something about the air that seems to say: this is only a taste of the real thing. Come closer, come deeper- let yourself go. Run like a wild creature into the heart of the sea.
And sometimes, I do. I often regret it, but there’s something about moving full speed towards those icy waves that can’t quite be put into words. I feel alive. I feel like I’m going from some earthly place to something beyond that. It’s exciting, and exhilarating, and yes- very, very cold.
Wow Danielle, you had a completely different view on the ocean air from me. I liked your interpretation, although mine was very different, just because of the temperature outside.
DeleteI was also sitting on the beach during my "Nature Walk," and had every intention of enjoying the sunshine. However, it was incredibly warm outside, unlike the cool that you felt. Instead, the air was thick and suffocating, and the relentless rays of sunlight unforgiving. There was no breeze, and instead the warm air sweltered around my body. The air had a pleasant smell, although the texture was too smog-like for my taste. The exact smell is hard to pinpoint, but it wasn't just sea salt and brine. There was definitely a touch of pine, perhaps from the many trees lining the cliff over the coast. The smell brought forth memories of my childhood; of skipping along the rocky sand next to my parents.
I moved away from Vancouver when I was 8 years old, but I still had many fond memories of this place. On the back of each of these memories was the constant smell of the ocean air. No matter how far away from the water I lived, whether it was Burnaby or Surrey, the air still held a humid sea salt aroma. I guess you can say that I am very sensitive to smells.
The ocean air causes me to reflect on my life thus far, and how much I have grown over the years as a person. No longer am I the child jumping around in the sand, flipping over stones to look for crabs and seaweed. Instead, I walk calmly and pause to pick up a seashell, before tossing it back into the sea.
I chose to write from the perspective of a reflection of clouds that I saw on the water and to let the reflection give its own definition of what it was:
ReplyDeleteI lay spread out on the ocean. I sparkle and shimmer and shine. Someone pauses by the edge of the water and stares out at me. I don’t blame then, I am rather stunning.
The waves dance with me as they ripple towards the shore. Beneath me the fish are gliding, above me the birds soar. I am in the middle of it all. I am at the center of this beautiful scene, like a painting on display at a museum.
A little girl pokes me with her toe. I flinch, but not because it tickles. It just happens, I cannot stop it. A young boy skips a rock along my back. It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel anything but I wince anyway.
A gentle breeze blows the clouds above me away. I drift further from the shore and soon the waves I was dancing with begin trample me. What is happening? I feel myself fade and then, I am gone.
I am not real. The clouds are real, but just like the painting; I am only an image of what is what is real, painted by the Sun. The water is real. It is my canvas. I am elusive, just a facade. I am a reflection.
Hello Lisa!
DeleteYour poem left me speechless. Bravo!
Not only was your descriptions clear, but it shared your imagination in relation to your nation walk.
With the picture that I have painted in my head from the descriptions from your poem, I wish I could experience your actual nature walk to compare my imagination to reality.
I enjoyed your work and will be glad to read more of your poems in the future!