Fiction Imagination

My mind has been wrapped up in a fiction story. It is called The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. Its a different time and a different place and the descriptions leave so much room for the imagination to be in a whole new world. (and yes, I hope you have Aladdin in your head now :))

In reading the stories, for me, illustrations of the way I see the world begin to expand. The moss on an old rotten board is no longer just a soggy dirty sponge. It is now the soft deep green patch that feels like a welcome home mat under your feet. The dried up twigs and acorn bits are no longer a nuisance to sweep away but a story of what was manifested here. What weather came through to knock them off, the season it happened in, how the squirrels scavenged the acorns.

The spider you catch crawling along the wood by where you sit is no longer a scary scream. It is an element of nature. One you may not wish was so close to you… but a curiosity of wonder and work and life and creation none the less. And yes, if you were wondering I still brushed it away. Not killed it, just a gentle nudge out of my direction 😊 For magic and mysterious also has things you do not want in your presence.

A rustle in the trees takes shape of an animal moving. Your heart picks up a little as you strain for more movement. Hoping the shape will outline itself, the silhouette of a bird appears as it flits through the brush. SO simple yet so beautiful at the same time. What is it doing/eating? Jumping around. What do they see when they are sitting there all day?

What I could really unfold is the sense. My educated mind is that of how many people have sat out here and written of the wonder of the spaces of nature in which we sit and how many more can create a luxurious scene better than mine. Then on the other foot, how many have never even thought to create such a wild world.

Where does that saying come from? On the other foot? Like two different shoes or what? Might have to check this one out in the future.

The green forest is seductive. It is morning and already warm enough outside to be comfortable in shorts and a tank top. The grass is still dew filled from the humidity outside. The moss really is like a welcome home mat. It reminds me of age and creation and that life grows from dying things.

The moss on the trees are like a blanket in an old cabin home. The one you go to each summer to hang out with the family when you were little and maybe the place you went to the first time you made love. The secret spot you wouldn’t get caught and would add another memory to the beauty of it all. Things that seem so insignificant just got a whole lot bigger.

The layers of the forests carry depth that goes upward. 😊 the lush bottom. You get to be mindful wandering through that as there are things that bite or snare or poison.

And as dramatic as that is, usually you are fine. Well usually I am fine. I play to an awareness.. The bottom is like a Midwestern jungle. Everything is green. Deep dark life living green. What is up with all the green in the world? Why so much green and brown and blue that dominates the planet? I know there are different meanings associated with different colors. I wonder if that is the point of the general theme…

It is filled with good things too. It welcomes hmmm. The sound of satisfaction. Have you ever seen a spider web covered in morning dew? It is breathtaking. They created it in just one night most likely. Its uniform designed with different attachment points that make no sense how it got so symmetrical.

The bottom layer could take hours and at the same time, what is the depth to where we go when there is the next layer. The bushes rise up from the underbrush, black caps and a bunch of different names of things I do not know. Yet they are the goobers that will catch you or trap you if you get caught up in it. The ones you brush your shoulders against that can feel cool and soft against your skin or sharp and snagging. Either way, they are another gentle reminder that you are out in the wild. Your senses a little more open to what is possible. I’m telling you. It draws you in. Quite literally. Hee Hee ;)

The next layer I feel is the branches. That extend from the tree. Look up. Or look out if you’re up in one. When was the last time you climbed a tree? How high did you go, what did you see, why did you climb it?

As I'm writing this, my little brother joined me in the makeshift tree stand. Coffee and chilling be it being silent or chatting are one of our favorite past times. Jacob spends a lot of times in the woods, camping, hiking, enjoying coffee and meals on the fire. Sleeping in the elements. Having adventures. We share a love for the forest and fiction books. It takes a long grueling six hour hike in the woods and turns it into a mystical forest where stories are still to be told. I turned off my computer to talk with him about this post. He shared a quote with me that fits the dreaming of this quite well. :)

"The Universe is made of stories, not of atoms." - Muriel Rukeyser

What do you experience when you take a second to stop and look around.

When is the last time you spun the story of you as a hero in the forest? Go out and treat the world like a fairy tale. <3 What simple things take the shape of the beautiful mysteries that surround us? What can you envision that will shape the world to a story you can get swept up in?

8 )