Let me paint you a word picture

This morning, when it was colder outside than it is inside a fridge, we all went for a walk through the bushland behind the house. There was a hill involved. Nothing too drastic, but telling people it only took me an hour to climb up and down something with “Mount” in the name makes me sound super fit. When we made it up to the lookout at the top, the view was magnificent. But, of course, with my brain being non-operational before 8AM, I forgot my phone. Which means I couldn’t get a photo. Which means that I am going to try something. I want to paint you a word picture. This might just become a regular thing. You know, for those moment where you wish you hadn’t forgotten your camera? I might be able to use my writing “skills”.

Well, here goes nothing:

The sun had finally emerged from its fluffy water vapour blanket. Its usual utilitarian globe of light had seeped out of its constraints and illuminated the entire sky. The sky was gold. There were no clouds, or sneaky patches of blue; just gold. The morning fog, which would burn off by the time we were halfway down the mountain, was almost opaque under its pale, golden coat. The shimmering fog hid all of the buildings, the roads, and the cars. All that could be seen of humanity were the twinkling lights in windows or the tricoloured gleam of the traffic lights. The trees and grass-covered hills that stood guard over the township were otherworldly under the exuberance of a barely-woken sun. Even the bush around us, in its uniform browns and greys, was now gilded. All was quiet. The birds , the breeze, and the kangaroos slept on as I reached into my tights pocket. When my fingertips brushed nothing but lint, I realised that I’d left my phone at home, on my nightstand.


About Bec Graham

Bec Graham, 24, was born on the wrong continent. Everything from her burns-like-paper skin tone to her inability to cope with the slightest hint of a hot day suggests she should have been born under the gloomy skies and mild sun of the UK. She hopes writing will get her to her rightful home one day. Failing that, she scans the skies for a spinning blue police box, hoping to catch a lift back to the motherland.
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4 Responses to Let me paint you a word picture

  1. Kane says:

    Awesome description, I can picture it quite well.
    You are an amazing writer!

  2. Can you just write a book already so I can read it?!? Beautiful!

    Also, I finally watched The Book Thief last night, and this is so reminiscent of Liesal’s weather reports that it makes my heart happy 🙂

    • Bec Graham says:

      Awww thanks! I’m starting to get a big head, now. Which is a bit of a problem since I have a WICKED sugar migraine drilling into my right eye socket. Damn delicious chocolate! Which reminds me: HAPPY EASTER 🙂

      How GOOD is the Book Thief? So close to Zusak’s original story!!!! And OMG, you think I sound like Zusak?! I can die happy now. Thanks so much!!!!!

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