So an explanation of last week. I wanted it to rest on its own, just the asking the question of how and then the most ridiculous answer.* The second part of that is, when looking for a random picture as a writing prompt, it needs to be one that has something interesting to it. Something that can hold a story. One of the first pictures I found while looking for a writing prompt was a gorgeous picture of a river with a striking sunset behind it. A lovely picture but, well, there’s not much to hang my hat on there.
Could I make a story out of it? Sure, probably. I’d most likely do something about someone riding on the river, or settling by the river, or maybe that luscious orange sunset has some unexpected cause. But mostly it’s just setting with nothing really compelling about the setting. And in a story, you can have a setting without much compelling to it if your focus is on the character or the plot or etcetera. But then the story isn’t really about the setting, which feels like cheating when I’m building off a photo. So I chose one that asked a question. It doesn’t hurt that it’s also visually compelling, with the striking contrast between the dark green of the forest and the pale colors of the plane, the fascinating natural tessellations of the trees and the stark industrial lines of the plane, and so forth.
So while I enjoyed the joke of the last post, I felt this photo was worthy of another look.
The Flight, The Forest
Stately, peaceful and serene,
Piny forest painted green;
Fallen needles mask the sound
Of the creatures still unseen.
Feathered firs in grandeur grow,
Boughs unfolding row on row;
Sunlight gilds the arching crowns
That shade and hide the ground below.
Suddenly a forest glade;
Something not of seedling made-
But a plane of pale hue
Smoothly silver, deepest blue;
Wings that spread to split the cloud
Trapped, immobile, on the ground.
Where the passengers once flew
Webs and burrows now lace through.
Where the pilot plied his trade,
Nests and silent eggs are laid.
Whence came this wonder from the sky?
The forest will not wonder why.
Still the trees from saplings grow,
Still they weather sun and snow,
Still they spread their roots down deep;
Such a life is all they know.
What care trees for airplanes bold?
What care trees for pow’r or gold?
Others may a world explore,
The trees, content, will here grow old.
Intellectual Property of Elizabeth Doman
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*I said my previous post was the “most ridiculous answer.” Well, it turns out the airplane didn’t crash there, it was brought there at, yes, great expense by a man named Bruce Campbell. Not as a prank though- he made it into his home. https://thevalemagazine.com/2020/08/07/bruce-campbell-airplane-home-oregon/
I imagine this also means it’s not actually full of spiders and birds but I like the poem so it’s staying. 😉
