hungdukie
12-15-2008, 11:47 PM
I have never been much of a writer but I thought I'd give it a go. Please tell me what you think and all criticisms, suggestions, etc. are welcome.
Serendipity
The sun blazed menacingly in the crystal azure sky. You’d think there could be one or two clouds to give a guy some relief. The sweat rolled down my sides and the middle of my sunburned back, stinging like angry hornets. I looked up ahead for the chief Nazi who had ordered us on this torturous journey. There he was perched imperiously in the lead canoe, looking severe in his stupid khaki uniform, his sick, sadistic smirk plastered across his scraggly old, smug mug.
It was my first canoe/camp trip with the Boy scouts. Good old Troop 9 presided over by the Fuhrer himself, Herr Woodruff. We had been paddling for what seemed like days. My poor muscles were aching and screaming in agony with each laborious stroke of the paddle. “Oh, when would this end?”
Then finally, with a loud cry of, “Land ho!” we reached our destination, Otter Island. She beckoned like a longing lover for me to come to her for comfort and I did with great haste. We beached our canoes and all of us scattered our separate ways to explore for treasures. Chirping and whooping we ran off thrilled with the anticipation of what we might discover there.
I found treasure that day. Not gold or jewels but something of far more value. Running forth, at breakneck speed, I nearly met with my maker. I stopped just as I was about to plunge headlong over the precipice of a great towering bluff. My heart pounding, I peeked over the edge and saw a great emerald green carpet of moss below in a clearing. It called to me like a siren to a weary sailor to come and rest a spell. And so I did.
I found my way down an old Indian footpath, stepped out onto the spongy surface and was entranced by the stillness and hush. The sun, which had been so fiery hot only moments before, now filtered warm and soothing through the birches. It s gentle touch felt pleasant on my skin. I lay down, settling comfortably into my newfound private sanctuary. Lying on my back, I closed my eyes and filled with the serenity of that place. Relaxing, I could feel the tension and aching in my body drain from me. There was a gentle breeze, its touch lightly caressing and cooling. The music of the songbirds was like a symphony of peace. I had never felt so satiated with calm. The moss was so spongy and soft beneath me I could barely feel it. It was like reclining on a cloud.
I go back there often, transported by my mind, when I meditate. When the hurry scurry pace of the rat race gets so much I feel like I’m coming undone, I close my eyes, become still and I go back to that place. I can smell the earthy essence of the moss spun by mother earth herself. The birds’ gentle lullaby sounds again in my ears as it did that day. The sun beams gently down upon me and takes me, like a loving mother, into its warm embrace. I am once again filled with a deep peace that makes everything else go away. That’s the treasure I found that day, and unlike gold or jewels, this treasure can be spent again and again. It’s like having a bottomless bank account of peace and serenity. It never runs out.
Serendipity
The sun blazed menacingly in the crystal azure sky. You’d think there could be one or two clouds to give a guy some relief. The sweat rolled down my sides and the middle of my sunburned back, stinging like angry hornets. I looked up ahead for the chief Nazi who had ordered us on this torturous journey. There he was perched imperiously in the lead canoe, looking severe in his stupid khaki uniform, his sick, sadistic smirk plastered across his scraggly old, smug mug.
It was my first canoe/camp trip with the Boy scouts. Good old Troop 9 presided over by the Fuhrer himself, Herr Woodruff. We had been paddling for what seemed like days. My poor muscles were aching and screaming in agony with each laborious stroke of the paddle. “Oh, when would this end?”
Then finally, with a loud cry of, “Land ho!” we reached our destination, Otter Island. She beckoned like a longing lover for me to come to her for comfort and I did with great haste. We beached our canoes and all of us scattered our separate ways to explore for treasures. Chirping and whooping we ran off thrilled with the anticipation of what we might discover there.
I found treasure that day. Not gold or jewels but something of far more value. Running forth, at breakneck speed, I nearly met with my maker. I stopped just as I was about to plunge headlong over the precipice of a great towering bluff. My heart pounding, I peeked over the edge and saw a great emerald green carpet of moss below in a clearing. It called to me like a siren to a weary sailor to come and rest a spell. And so I did.
I found my way down an old Indian footpath, stepped out onto the spongy surface and was entranced by the stillness and hush. The sun, which had been so fiery hot only moments before, now filtered warm and soothing through the birches. It s gentle touch felt pleasant on my skin. I lay down, settling comfortably into my newfound private sanctuary. Lying on my back, I closed my eyes and filled with the serenity of that place. Relaxing, I could feel the tension and aching in my body drain from me. There was a gentle breeze, its touch lightly caressing and cooling. The music of the songbirds was like a symphony of peace. I had never felt so satiated with calm. The moss was so spongy and soft beneath me I could barely feel it. It was like reclining on a cloud.
I go back there often, transported by my mind, when I meditate. When the hurry scurry pace of the rat race gets so much I feel like I’m coming undone, I close my eyes, become still and I go back to that place. I can smell the earthy essence of the moss spun by mother earth herself. The birds’ gentle lullaby sounds again in my ears as it did that day. The sun beams gently down upon me and takes me, like a loving mother, into its warm embrace. I am once again filled with a deep peace that makes everything else go away. That’s the treasure I found that day, and unlike gold or jewels, this treasure can be spent again and again. It’s like having a bottomless bank account of peace and serenity. It never runs out.