I recently attended a nature writing course, and I took the opportunity to rework the midpoint of my work in progress, Love and Distraction. In this scene, the protagonists, Perry and Rob, wander off during a walking meditation in a run down urban park, and discover a beautiful pond hidden away at the back. It is here that they share their first kiss.
The class was a series of four exercises, each one seven minutes of writing and a read back. Every exercise had a different orientation and a different feeling. It was a small class and it was lovely to hear the other writers read their work. The class was run by Sally Piper and my efforts (plus a light post class edit) are below.
Exercise 1 – Visual
They approached a secluded area, screened off from the rest of the park by iron railings in front of an overgrown privet bush. There was a gap in the railings and they gravitated towards it, both being pulled in by the promise of the unknown.
Once across the threshold, a new world presented itself; a single wooden bench next to a beautiful, still pond. The sun glistened on it, dappling the surface with ever changing golden light, the light fragmenting into a thousand pieces. Small silver fish darted under the water, emerging from the unseen depths, then disappearing again. Dragonflies flew in and out of the white lilies clustering on the surface of the pond.
Exercise 2 – Other Senses
Perry and Rob approached the secluded area and entered. It was beautiful. So beautiful that Perry’s senses felt assaulted – the peace of the waterlily covered pond painful, almost too much to bear.
She closed her eyes. The sound of the rest of the park had faded. The traffic was a low rumble and the screams of the borderline criminal youths had mellowed with distance; they were as children now – children playing children’s games.
She moved further in, reaching out for Rob’s sleeve to guide her. The outside sound had gone, and the silence of the place ached and throbbed within her.
She became aware of the buzz of unseen insects. Perhaps they were always there, flitting around, their small lives refusing to disturb the habitual urban dwellers of the city. But here, in this place, by this pond, their small lives grew bigger – enlarging and swelling to be the dominant force. This was their kingdom, and Rob and Perry were merely guests. They would stay for a while and then depart – but this place would last without them; eternal in its own way.
Exercise 3 – Emotional
Perry sat on the old bench next to the pond. She was so stressed, beyond anything she had previously experienced, or believed she could experience.
She breathed in the scent of the blooms that grew chaotically under the privet hedge, willing them to relax her, willing them to ease her burden and solve her problems. But the flowers wouldn’t, they couldn’t. They were simply of nature, of this place and they knew nothing of her concerns, of the terrible situation she found herself in. It’s not that they didn’t care, but the flowers were apart from all this, apart from her. She was separated, alone, atomised.
She glanced over at Rob on the far side of the bench, the space between them less than a metre but simultaneously unbridgeable. He lazily swatted away a single dragonfly buzzing around his overlong hair. The insect wafted over, crossing the distance between them and circled her, its orbit decaying and the insect falling into her, landing on her shoulder, where it briefly vibrated it’s translucent wings and stopped – calm and untroubled, a message from the gap between her and Rob.
Exercise 4 – Soulful and Philosophical
The pond was of the city but not part of it. It had existed before the scruffy urban park. Many years ago the city planners had conceived it, in an attempt to breath life into this dismal place, a regenerative sticking plaster slapped over this blighted area.
The architect had wanted to remove the pond, but a mixture of administrative incompetence and lack of funds had meant the pond had stayed. Instead, it had been surrounded by iron railings and a tall privet hedge – screening it off from the wider area. It didn’t fit into the plan and it couldn’t be removed, and so it was hidden away and forgotten.
And it had thrived. The neglect was its lifeblood. The silvery fish multiplied and the waterlilies bloomed. The insects blew in from neighbouring gardens, and made their homes here, inhabiting the flowers, hiding in the leaves, and burying into the soil.
And the pond remained in its stillness, unblemished and undisturbed, while the world around it changed; blackening the statues in the park, eroding the surrounding houses, and bleaching away the spirit of the people that lived here.
Photo by Aradhika Sharma on Unsplash
