Exploits in Literature

 Across the vast silver snowy prairie, the wind danced and flitted as a ballet dancer. Great gusts sent up small powdery clouds that settled after a moment. In the distance, the mountains rose sharp and black against the softening blue, yellows, reds and purples of the sunset. Before the mountain and amongst the trees at its base light glowed. A cabin nestled amoung the trees and hillocks. Moving closer, one can see that there is smoke from the chimney. Windows glowing with yellow homey lights, spread warmth into the cold gathering dusk. A little ways away from the cabin is a barn wherein animals reside warm against the gathering storm. On the wind, you can smell the spicy and biting cold of a winter blizzard. A man leaves the barn and firmly latches the door. A rope tied from the eaves of the cabin extends to a ring attached to the barn door. He makes sure it is secure then walks swiftly to his home. As the door opens, his wife looks up from placing the last dishes on the table fo...

 Golden sand shimmered under the hot sun. Figures floated and sparkled above the desert sand. Dust devils bounced and skipped above the barren wasteland. The only moving things that could be seen other then the ghosts of mirages were that of vultures silently winging on the breeze. Their beedy black eyes against the wrinkled red ugliness of their skulls gleamed and scanned in search of prey. Upon closer look, one can see the grey diamonds that mark the ratllesnakes back as it lies sunning on the rocky surface. His tongue flicking out and in as he searches the heat of the desert for his dinner. Nervously, a grey field mouse twitches his nose in search of any strange scents that the wind carries.  Amongst the saguaro, cardon, barrel, and prickly pear cactus, small bright colors intersperse the green of the cactus and gold of the desert sand.  More subtle to these flowers, the sand verbena and fairy duster add pinks and lavenders to the sandy floor. They mirror the pale pink...

Sighs echoed in the empty spaces. Rain beat down creating a cacaphony of sound. Clouds hang low in the sky. The green of the leaves and grass appeared darker. In the storm clouds, she could see melancholy. It matched her mood. She turned from the window. Another sigh escaped her lips, she felt  stagnant. Through the closed windows, she could hear birds singing. The wetness of the forest appeared as if a fairy-tale. The vines clung and draped across the trees like robes and ornaments. Even fallen trees and rocks appeared enchanted with moss cleaving to their surfaces. The wind gently whistled through the leaves and branches. Winding it's way on a narrow track, a stream gurggled and laughed it's way deeper into the trees. The forest was enchanted. A fairy land.  The rain had stopped. The clouds still hung listlessly above the trees. They seemed to want to gather courage to stay. Any moment they could erupt.  The trees reached leafy arms upwards. Remaining melancholic, the s...

 The sky was azure. Flittering and winging above the trees that lined the path, small sparrows and mockingbirds sang to each other. Uneven and rocky, the path felt solid under her feet. The smells of dust, flowers, trees, and sunlight floated around her. Covering her senses and body, the sunlight embraced her in a warm hug. She felt accepted.  The warmth spread into her bones. She felt refreshed.  The path widened. She paused, ahead stood what she had searched for. The canyon spilled out before her. Like a wide riverbed, the valley rolled and sank in hills and clefts. Standing on the precipice, she drank in the many sounds, smells, and colors that wafted upwards. She sat on the edge. Her eyes closed. She allowed the sounds and smells to engulf her. She smiled. It was peaceful. She was safe.  Serendipity

Her eyes sparkled with golden flecks of light. The copper of her shirt reflected in the colors of her eyes. Gently, the breeze swept tendrils of brown hair across her face. She absently brushed them behind her ear. She watched as the sun sank slowly behind the crest of the mountains. Her pencil scratching across paper was the only harsh sound. In the distance, she could hear the faint roar of a waterfall. Close by, the twitter and whistling of the birds echoed back and forth among the trees. As she finished the sketch, her eyes once again rested on the scene before her. It was beautiful. Tranquility. Dusk softened the lines of trees into shadowy figures. The mountain became solid ebony against a lighter sky. Rustling softly among the leaves on the ground, the wind skipped across the clearing. She folded her book and placed it and her pencils away in their cradle. Standing a moment, her eyes drank in the last bits of light that peered over the mountain....

Swiftly, the stream flows. Across the canyon, singing can be heard. Flitting against the sky, birds float on the breeze. Whistling through the trees, Fingers of the wind stir the leaves. Spiciness of fall can be felt on the mistral. Voices of chinook echo against the canyon palisades. Lapping against its banks, the stream gurgles its merry way. Over all, stillness lays its hand. the lonely call of the wild can be heard. Smoky clouds float aimlessly, As the sun's rays beat down. Winding through the canyon, the stream escapes it's confines. Buzzing of the bees can be heard. Through the trees, Mockingbirds sing sweetly. Everything is peaceful. ~Natalie~