Shadows of Unwavering Blue
By Nekodra K.D. LaCroix
Standing tall and unwavering,
surrounded by a hill of fallen leaves. The trunk a river of abstract swirls,
lines and knots going vertically from tip of the roots to tippy top branch.
Embedded and grooved, but smooth, caressing it as you circle leaves your hand
feeling soft. Like it frozen in time, petrified but alive. Its silky bark
chilling to the touch, yet warmth is embedded deep inside feeling like a
beating heart, pulsing against your hand. Speaking centuries, perhaps eons of
wisdom, of lives, coming and going in the sweep of time. Touching it has made
you wiser, given you strength that was within you all along, energy that is as
old as time washing over you, healing and soothing. Like the hug of a beloved
parent who has always cared for you and always will, having touched a deep
place in your soul.
Looking up, hand still resting on
the trunk as though the world could crumble apart if you sever the connection
you have made. Security that you almost know will stay with you now that you
have it, but you waver unsure and not wanting to risk it. It has wrapped itself
around your soul and it’s a feeling of great love that you never want to leave.
As you look up at the majestic old tree, noting how there is not a single
branch till seven feet up, where it bushes out to shade an uneven wave of a
thirteen foot radius. Leaves twist and dance, wiggling free from the top to
grace the trunk and blanket the hidden roots. The snow of never ending leaves;
tumble down as you reach where you started; having circled the tree as though
you have circled it life from seed until it’s never end. The eternal raining of
leaves continue to add to the blanket of cushioned ground, soft on the feet
bare like feathers of angels. Like the velvet dress caressing your pale skin.
Turning, a single slender swing, a
single simplicity hovering barely two feet from a mist of hue pastel blue and
deep green leaves. Appearing from the mass of branches like its dropping from a
portal to unknown dreams. Placing a hand on the faded brown rope, frazzled and
worn; prickles to the touch like soft needles and thorns. Harmless but the pain
is still there like a nostalgic memory. Vines have cushioned the hard old
boarded seat, having scaled down the other rope. Flowers crawling along the
twisting vines, an exotic flower, of pastel purples and ice blue, with warped
petals and coiling little vines, like a pumpkins, cork screwed. Each flower
that snakes up the rope is unique and distorted in its own ways.
The wind
picks up briefly, and encircling fog shifts to show a house far in the
distance, like a mirage out pass the hilled leaves, then it’s gone again,
forgotten like an uncertain spell. The allure to the swing, calling. She
touches the rope again, feeling pass the bristles of age. Lifting the thick
iridescent blue velvet fabric with her other hand, her right releasing the rope
briefly to position away from it, to slide with elegance upon the swing. Her
dress further cushioning the vine engulfed wood. In a daze she studies the
rope, stroking it, feeling the needles crawl along her pale hand. Feeling the
centuries creeping in, like it’s been waiting all this time. The height
allowing her to brush the ground giving illusion of floating but still able to
caress the ground and know it’s safe. Gently as though the tree is uncertain of
the protection, back and forth displacing leaves as her feet sweep pass.
She looks
up, a smile charms her freckled ghostly face, and through a window in the
branches, the stars blink in delight back to her. In the charity of the
speckled sky an array of stars fly pass as though the world was able to move
once more. Time was moving forward as a river brushing pass the shore.
The allusion continues, time sweeps
by as she sweeps up leaves with each pass on the swing. Back and forth, like
time is trying to keep her safe happy, as though nothing has happened. But time
can only move in one direction, and as she sweeps forward again, the world has
changed. Houses come and go. Some times peacefully with age, to be rebuild
over, sometimes in disaster. Fire engulfs with such anger, other times a storm
strikes with such fury. Each different as time evolves, brushing pass in the
sweep of the wind, there and gone, then there again.
The fog, trying to keep the dream
alive, trying to mask the change in times and each swing back, her house is
there just out of reach, beyond the haze. Safe as a dream, as though she could
hop off the swing landing in those cushioned leaves and run back to it, to play
with her faded toys and sleep in the forgotten bed, hug her buried parents, but
the charm of the swing sung by the tree, keeps its hugging melody and time
ticks on.
 |
| I just love drawing checkers, its so much fun. ^_^ |
Afterword
This
was an assignment for a creative writing class I took, last year I believe. I
went through and fixed a few things before posting it. A few iffy
spots remain, but I couldn’t think of a better way to say it, I just hope its
not confusing or anything. I don’t recall exactly what the requirement was for
the assignment was. I think it was something about a single image and
describing it in great detail. This image is from a recurring dream I used to
have when I was a kid. I added the ghost for assignment purposes to give
it a small story of sorts. But the swing and the tree with the blanket of
leaves on the fog surrounded hill are from the dream. Its still a very vivid memory. Its so
peaceful. It now serves now as a good way to relax, though sometimes I forget about
it, its one of 3 or 4 places I visualize to relax or for meditating.
It’s hard to imagine that most people
never remember their dreams. Like several of my friends. Something I find hard
to comprehend. I can’t always recall my dreams, later on like right now. I
can’t quite remember last nights dream. I know I have it stored in my memory. Its sitting there teasing me, just out of reach, but its there and in an hour
or two or maybe tomorrow, something will trigger it and I will recall it
mostly. I recall the other nights dream- oh there it is, I remember last
nights, completely. Some of them I don’t bother to try and remember, but I
always want to be able to remember my dreams. They are just-I enjoy dreaming, I
really- Really do, sometimes I won’t let myself wake up, so I can continue to
dream. That's the real reason I sleep in. I actually wake up rather early, but I go back to sleep so I can dream more. I don't currently have a job, so I don't have a reason to get up. I enjoy dreaming so much that my body can hit REM sleep in record time or I like to think so. I don't know what the record is. I can hit REM within a half hour so I
can dream when I take as short nap. Which when that happened the first time I
had a dream when taking a short nap, made me ecstatic and it happens most
times now.
I remember my first nightmare, which
I don’t really have nightmares maybe 5 in my life so far. The last one I had
was when I still worked for Cinemark. I had a dream the popcorn was
suffocating me. I hated working in concessions and with the popcorn; it was far
too hot next to the popper. I preferred either Ushering or Box Office. But the
first nightmare I ever had (or rather can still recall) it was when I was
about 5 or 6, judging from the way I looked from behind (it was a third person
view) I was wearing a jean jacket and jean pants. (It’s actually interesting
to think back on it, how vivid but simple it was, and then thinking of last
nights dream and have vivid and complex it was. My dreams have really evolved
over my 22 years. But back to this dream) I was dressed in jean clothing, hair
pulled into a half pony tail. There was no grass, no sky just a fence. One of
those fences that are just has a post every roughly 3 feet with three
horizontal posts with about a foot in-between them and it was a dark brown.
Something was chasing me. I ran to the fence and tried to climb up it but
something grabbed my leg and then I woke up.
Now if I were to describe say last
nights dream, it would be a whole story in of itself with details of what was
in the background, to emotions, to the dialoged, to what I was wearing/what I
lost, which was a awesome pair of handmade dice earring, that I found later on.
There would also be several scenes, that don’t appear to fit together, but of
course it wasn’t noticeable at the time. Also the time of year it took place,
last night was a few days before 4th of July, which was oddly
random and this weird maze like garden. That was breathtaking. To the weird
sudden cartoon style it took on for a single frame which I blame Jimmy Fallon
for.
(I
know how dreams work sorta from the psychology class I took.) Dreams are
created from you brain going over what it did the day before to better remember
it. Which is why it can be a good idea to study before you go to bed and why
those audio tapes work. Those ones that you listen to while you sleep. Its also
a great way to manipulate what you will dream about. Doesn’t always work, but
its great when it does. So the creative side of your brain will spin a story
around what your brain is going over to remember, aka to be a bit scientific*straights
reading glasses* Pathways of your memories will fire off randomly from that day
as a way for your brain to better cement the connections. Okay not really all
that scientific, I could go grab my psychology textbook, but anyways.
Yesterday
on twitter I decided to follow Jimmy Fallon, because when I was staying with my
dad for a month, I watched his show for the first time and I really enjoyed it. The one with Kermit and Piggy was great. I can reasonably guess that while my
brain brushed over the little detail of following him it brought up memories
of his show and one of the ones I saw was that one, that actor who played on
House… *IMDB’s* Kal Penn. They were talking about Harold & Kumar’s 3D
Christmas and the trailer shown was that claymation scene. Also why it
probably brought up that particular Episode of Jimmy’s was Kal Penn has been in
this season of HIMYM (How I met your mother) I also added Neil Patrick Harris
to who I follow on twitter and I just remembered I forgot to hit follow on the
official HIMYM twitter page. Oh well, I will do that later.
Speculation,
but reasonably logical. Along with this whole weird part I had the involved
Star Wars, likely evolved from the image of Anakin I glossed over before I feel
asleep last night. *sigh* I went one too many pictures over in the gallery on
my iPhone. I have been trying to manipulate a Psych Dream as of late so I was
looking at pictures of Shawn and Lassie but I went too far and the last picture
I looked at was Anakin. Well trying to get another Psych dream. A few weeks
ago, I managed to have a Psych dream where Henry was my dad and I was Shawn,
only myself. I was being targeted by this Psycho which the cameo was Gil from
CIS -random- but anyways. He was killing all the stupid kids; meaning those
who didn’t pass his test he considered too stupid to be allowed to live. There was a lot more to the story and I
woke up before I took his actual test. But I considered it a successful dream
manipulation. I had fun with Henry as he was trying to help me, but discreetly
because he is a cop and if Gil found out that a cop was involved he would get
upset. But hell be damned if Henry wasn’t going to help his child. (I plead
Dream logic) I wanted a dream with Henry as my dad, because I think Henry
Spencer is an amazing father and it seems like it could have been an
interesting dream and it was.
But
anyways, I swear I will manipulate another Psych dream out of my unconscious, I
will! I used to get many wonderful
Doctor Who dreams with 10th Doctor, well one time it was 11th,
but I digress, while back when I was re-watching 10th Doctor
episodes. Which I should do again. I finished re-watching all of Psych up to
‘In for a Penny’ I am forcing myself not to restart Psych again. >.<#
Though I will probably re-watch ‘In for a Penny’ <.<; I forgot to look
for the pineapple again. Heh, got distracted by the show and its
awesome-ness; but also because everyday needs a dose of Psych.
So
to keep myself from popping over to Psych on Netflix’s and starting over at the
pilot and working my way to ‘In for a Penny’ I am watching Buffy again, or
picking up where I left off several months ago. I had realized that I missed
the last 2 seasons of Buffy, which I was appalled at myself for. Since it
has been years I started from the beginning and then I got distracted by
Doctor Who, then Watching Star Trek: TNG. Which I proceeded to fall for
Commander Riker and then Psych. Amusingly I left off just when it was
getting to stuff I hadn’t seen. Lol. So I watch 4 episodes last night and I
will watch many more today. I have no job at the moment, so I can spend whole
days watching things like Psych which I will force myself to take a small
break from. *coughbutwatchatleastoneepaday* So I will finish Buffy and by proxy
re-watch Angel and also I still need to work on watching all original 26
seasons of Doctor. I also need to catch
myself back up on NCIS. I also will stop blabbering on now, doubtful anyone is
still reading at this point.
Side
Notes-
-Follow me on Twitter, because I
will tweet every time I post on my blog and I will post a link. Nekodra's Twitter
-Have fun and toss me writing prompt,
I would love the practice. I will credit you for tossing the prompt when I post
the resulting story.
-If you have never seen Psych, and
you love comedies or crime shows, I highly recommend it! You can watch the
first 5 seasons on Netflix’s, and you can watch the first 4 of 7 episodes of
the current season on Hulu. Psych airs on USA on Wednesdays.
- Please remember to comment, I want
honest opinions that why I am posting my short stories here. I want to improve,
get feedback so I can better myself as an writer. I also just want to talk.
-Also
remember unless stated otherwise, these stories and drawings belong to me, I
wrote/drew them, please respect that.
~Nekodra
K.D. LaCroix
No comments:
Post a Comment