“A picture paints a thousand words, but the photographs don’t tell it all.” (Andrew Peterson, Nothing Left to Say)
This quote has me thinking about the power of an image and all the emotions and words they evoke. I don’t know about you, but my writer’s mind sees a story in every poetic image that I see.
I saw someone do a similar blog post once, where they took some of their favorite Pinterest images and gave a little story caption to each. I really liked that idea and thought I’d do it myself today.
The woods stretched out before her, an ocean of trees. Today she was alone, no laughter filled runs through the fields this morning. Instead, she sat and waited. Waited and watched knowing that someday, someday, he would come back through the trees, the same way he left.
Golden notes rained down from the hands of the golden-haired little girl. She tapped out simple melodies that reminded her mama how once upon a time, her daddy would have sat for hours and listened to her play. “That would’ve made him smile,” she felt rather than thought and wiped a tear from her clear blue eyes.
No noise was heard, nothing but the rustle of tule as the dancers eagerly exhaled and inhaled. Their pale cheeks were pink with anticipation and their eyes were vibrant with excitement. They waiting expectantly for the curtain to rise and their fairy dance to begin.
Her breath catches as his hand takes hers.
“I would be delighted to have this dance with you… May I?” He asks.
And although she cannot speak, her eyes convey a thousand yeses.
The ground rumbled and the canyons thundered. Dust clouds swirled around him in a fine mist. Thoughts of all he left behind jabbed at his memory, but he spurred the horse onward. So much more lay ahead. The frontier beckoned and he obeyed.
The smell of fresh linen, a smell so like the color blue, poured through my nostrils. My travel dress, newly sewn and washed, laid upon the bed. It carried the joy that I knew came with adventure, joy as blue as the sky itself. Europe lay waiting for me.
James grabbed my hand, stopping me from going any further.
“What are you doing silly?” I said with question marks in my voice.
James took my other hand and kissed me gently. Joy tingled down from my lips to my tingling bare toes that wiggled in the damp ground.
“What was that for?”
James smiled. “I thought you knew everything Ace.”
I grinned sheepishly and clasped my hands behind my back. “Not everything.”
“Well,” he said, “If you must know, it was because you’re prettier than all of Pinewood put together.”
I looked down at my plaid school skirt and fingered the fabric, knowing I was blushing up to my hairline. “How nice.”
Did you guys enjoy these? What would you think if I started doing more posts like this one?
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