A Quaint dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Eight.

The continuation of that random stray thought from part six.  Turns out I did write something more…

 

PART EIGHT>

…We came to a river, except there was no river.  It was just dried sand and silt, and perhaps there was a trickle of the remaining water.  There were large grey stones to either side of the monolithic obelisks marking a former time and land.  They were embedded in a frame of pale gold hills…

 

A Quaint dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Seven.

I just realised how many sections I have on the travelling part.  It’s not surprising since it was a 6-8 hour trip and I was in and out of sleep a lot.  

 

PART SEVEN>

…I know I had my eyes closed for a long time.  I could hear the wind blowing through the small crack in the window and I could smell the faint scent of nature.  Even though I was submerged in darkness, I could still feel the movement of the earth below my feet, I haven’t forgotten that I’m still in a car.  I just choose not to see it…

 

A Quaint dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Six.

This was just one sentence that must have floated into my head.  It seems, I didn’t write anything else particular on this page of my notebook.

PART SIX>

…There was no water in the river except enough that it meanders where is once overflowed…

A Quaint dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Five.

I just realised, as silly as this delayed thought might seem, but I just realised that most of the things I’ve got written down from my trip are half fiction, half truth.  And they’re not really stories more like captured moments, framed with words.  I guess I was just a little stunned by the abstract beauty in front of me.  I was surprised.

PART FIVE>

The countryside is like a chessboard.  Where each black quar represents a green acre and each white represents a dry patch of golden grass.  The only difference is that there are more white squares than black.  For a moment I think, am I really looking at an Australian countryside?

A Quaint dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Four.

Part Four!  Has a title.  This was the fifty-five word story that I began to think of during my trip.  Seriously, the first day was so hot, and sweltering, all I could really think of was ways of being cool, even though the air con in the car was on.  I also happened to discover the family Pup gets seriously car sick.

PART FOUR>

The Sweltering Summer.

It’s a strangely hot summer, the air is thick with sweat and the sky is clear and blue.  It’s a trial cooling down.  Ice-cream, icy poles, ice drinks, paper fans, air con.  The best invention of the twenty-first century.  Once rare, now capable of crashing the entire electricity grid.  What a hot, sweltering summer day.

A Quaint dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Three.

Part three!  These posts were easy I guess, I just love writing about the mornings and early dawn.  I think it stems from the fact that I just love abstract beauty or moments where you could totally write in a horror story or a moment of change or the beginning of a journey, there’s just a lot of material, a lot of feelings that can be processed.  Plus I had heaps of time to think about it in the car…

 

PART THREE>

…The rising sun on the horizon assaults my vision.  It is a splurge of rose red-orange, pale pink and blue.  It covers its landscape with a healthy, beautiful and familiar sunrise glow.  Not even the trees can hide.  Lining up on the highest peak, a hill that is a patchwork of sundried, gold grass and green grass, are the actors that are the sole focus of the show.  It is they, a silhouette of the same size and nearly the same shape, branching out from either side, that are against such a mesmerizingly elegant backdrop.  Their faces are hidden but their shadows are important.  They’re like little soldiers, just with more arms and one leg, and the fact that all they’ll ever do in life is grow taller and taller, stronger and stronger, bear fruit, maybe, and shower the land with their leaves.  I think to take a picture, but I know I cannot capture its mesmerizingly dazzling beauty.  I know I’ll be too slow.  I know, once the moment passes, I can’t capture it again, not even with my meagre, compact camera.  So I look and write instead.  I must capture it.

And it passes.

I feel the sun.  It will be a hot sun.  I can tell.  It’s the colour of the dawn and the heat that radiates even though the sun has barely risen yet.  If the dawn is orange rather than rose-pink, I think it’ll be hot.  It’s like a fiery glow…

A Quaint Dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part Two.

This is part two!  I mainly thought about things I saw when I was in the car, it really helped me stay away from the whole car sick feeling.  I mean I’m definitely not a person who pukes, but I do feel queasy, so queasy, I sleep to forget it.  Normally it means I miss a lot, so every time I go some place, I feel like I’m missing out a lot.  That’s why this time, I wanted to stay awake and record the weird and beautiful, terrifying and scary, and abstract moments.  Because this time I have somewhere to put it, somewhere to share it and I definitely want to do it without pictures.  So hopefully you, dear readers, can feel and see what I saw!  Lol, I hope I captured it with my words 🙂

 

PART TWO>

…I open my eyes and I’m blinded by the dazzling pale blue and pink of dawn.  I blink and I can’t believe my eyes.  It’s more than just waking from a dream.  It’s like rising from the dead, knowing that you’ll live another day.  A sign passes by that says “bacon and eggs” and I suddenly feel hungry.  I wonder when the next food stop will be.  I wonder how much longer I can hold on.

   The mountains and hills are still in a haze of morning mist.  It’s a light mist, nearly translucent in the morning light.  Yet it’s the kind of mist that shrouds a city or a country scape on a day that’s predicted to be hot.  I know in that instant that I’m probably wearing a bit too much…

 

 

A Quaint Dream: Words and thoughts, passages of prose, like a faint passing dream from my recent trip. Part One.

So recently I went on a ten-day fishing trip with my family.  They fished and I caught up on all the things I couldn’t do with a computer and internet in front of me.  I wrote with pen and paper, I drew and I read.  It was marvellous.  So for the next few days, I’m going to be posting about the things I wrote about during this trip.  They’re mainly things I found inspiring, beautiful or just plain weird/freaky.  So sorry for the absence!!! And I hope you enjoy 🙂  

 

PART ONE>

…It was strange how silent the early morning could be.  There was barely a sound or a whisper.  Just cold air, chillingly comfortable against my skin.  The dawn was approaching.  Though still dark, the sky is already changing from a midnight darkness to the pale shade of baby blue that I loved.  All that was left was to get into the car and watch the sunrise as I head for a long and familiar journey.  I can’t wait…