I like doing this once and a while - painting a picture with a simple scene. The challenge is to be descriptive without being flowery (or purple as they say). But even if it is, it’s a good exercise where perfection shouldn’t be the immediate goal. Everything can be fine-tuned later if desired. Just paint the picture first and enjoy the moment you create.
She kneeled, dirtying the patches sewn on her knees. As the harsh sun crept along her neck, she reached up with her left hand, dirt smeared on her fingers, to adjust her brimmed hat that wrapped her entire face in shadow. I could still see her eyes as they stared deep into the soil she dug, clawed and patted with her bare hands. She never cared about dirt under her nails. I asked her once, and she smiled. To her, gardening was like reminiscing over a fond memory. She liked the floury silt in her palms as she pressed down with her thumb into the ground, making a bed for the seeds before covering them with a delicate swipe. I kept staring, waiting for her to rub the soreness from her wrinkled hands or grunt as she shifted her body. They never came. I thought her youthful demeanor was appropriate, as the child-like joy never left. Every motion, whether pinching seeds between her fingertips, scooping out rocks or transferring a worm, was done with every bit of gentleness and care. I’ve been blessed in this life she told me - well taken care of. It’s how I express my gratitude.
Dream Out Loud,
rg