When he rose, maybe 100 feet uphill of me, I was on my knees in the dusty trail. My small hiking journal teetered on my knees as my hand flew across the pages. Scrawled words in fuzzy grey pencil somehow formed into meaning. A truth: words sometimes had to be captured before they escaped. When my hand stilled and my mind returned to the surroundings, I thought it an unusual place for a deer to have lain. I watched as the young buck with his small four point antlers, still in velvet, nosed about. Odd. He did not browse. He…
Author: Jenny
Impressions ~ Walking II
Vignette \vin-yet\ Etymology (a word’s history) 1) 1751, “decorative design,” originally a design in the form of vine tendrils around the borders of a book page, especially a picture page, from French vignette, from Old French diminutive of vigne “vineyard” (see vine). Since transferred from the border to the picture itself, then (1853) to a type of small photographic portrait with blurred edges very popular mid-19c. Meaning “literary sketch” is first recorded 1880, probably from the photographic sense. https://www.etymonline.com/word/vignette#etymonline_v_7784 2) Definition of vignette (noun) vi·gnette 1a: a picture (such as an engraving or photograph) that shades off gradually into the surrounding…
Impressions ~ Walking I
July 12, 2020 8:53AM. East side of Lone Pine Rd, Crook County, Oregon. On the sidehill of a butte, at the top of a favorite trail. My hair is loose today. I feel witchy. Witches were among the first of the wise women, connected directly to the land. Men and fear turned the word into how it is perceived today. The last quarter of the moon floats high in the southwest sky. A sky-blue and alabaster white translucent pearl. The moon, high in the upper right corner. Almost a forgotten cloud fragment. Above and behind me, the butte is a…
ETCHED
Today, I walk in a sapphire sphere. Under a brilliant, crystal sky. The air a clear shatter of light. Everything is etched upon this canvas. My dictionary app defines “etched” as: 1) to outline clearly or sharply; delineate; 2) to fix permanently in or implant firmly on the mind; root in memory; 3) to cut (a feature) into the surface of the earth by means of erosion. But, when I think of etched, I think of a picture scratched in black and white onto a hard surface. Each line is embedded into the surface. No ink floating on the surface…
Books & Words II
Childhood Unboxed My left hand held a small leather bound book open across my knee as my pencil transcribed thoughts in fuzzy grey marks. Rustle, rustle, rustle. The pencil spoke to the paper as it skipped along. Not having much choice, the paper agreed to the pencil’s rhetoric. The paper, off-white and lined, fluttered in the breeze. My left hand clamped it down so the pencil could finish a word. I sat on a sun-warmed, charcoal grey, lichen spotted rock on a steep hillside. The hillside was dotted with juniper trees. Bluebirds flitted amongst them. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through…
Books & Words I
My left hand held a small leather bound book open across my knees as my pencil transcribed thoughts in fuzzy grey marks. Rustle, rustle, rustle. The pencil spoke to the paper as it skipped along. Not having much choice, the paper agreed to the pencil’s rhetoric. The paper, off-white and lined, fluttered in the breeze. My left hand clamped it down so the pencil could finish a word. I sat on a sun-warmed, charcoal grey, lichen spotted rock on a steep hillside. The hillside was dotted with juniper trees. Bluebirds flitted amongst them. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees…