During a recent move a box of high school memorabilia was being hoisted onto a shelf for long term storage and it accidentally broke open spilling the contents on the concrete floor. As I was gathering the items a lined sheet of yellowing notebook paper caught my attention. It was a short creative writing piece I had completed on November 19, 1981. I don’t know what the assignment was or why I happened to keep it. Prior to today it is likely that it was only read by two people, me and my teacher, now I am sharing it with you, enjoy!
There’s a place deeply etched in my memory where a small stream talks. Where beaming rays of sunlight escape the tall, filtering pines and dance lightly on the water. The stones, randomly scattered within the small stream are lusciously colored by the soft moss that covers them. A sweet, fresh scent of spring wisps along on a gentle breeze playing lightly with the pines. The forest floor is thickly covered with pine needles fallen in years gone past. Sweet sounds of birds echo throughout the forest and the stream talks on.
In the process of transferring this writing from notebook paper to MS Word I believe that I may never have handed this in. In the original version there are many misspellings and punctuation issues. I appreciate the modern technology that allows me to write and publish with limited embarrassing mistakes.