Your Story: Riverside

I was taking a hike at Lake Isabella yesterday near the river when I found this scene.  Many different stories, from fun to scary, came through my head.  I thought it would be nice to find out what your thoughts were on this photograph.  So tell me what happened here.

Your Story is a SethSnap series in which you get to decide the story behind the photo.  You can write a story, a poem or even just one word.  You decide.  Put on your best cowboy hat, chaps and boots, turn on your favorite Hank Jr. song and go! To see previous Your Story posts click on “Story Time” on the right.

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68 responses to “Your Story: Riverside

  1. Not sure if you want the story in a comment – if not, sorry fro not posting correctly. :

    Remnants of Fervour

    The rush towards pleasure
    Freedom and cleansing water
    Through thicket and darkness
    Into light
    Leaves remnants of your fervour
    A thatch of lost clothing
    Like a postcard on the branches
    To remind others who follow
    How perfect and how rivetting
    Is the path to freedom here.

    Cheers, Helen :)

  2. clothes quickly discarded in the woods
    two teens madly in love
    they lost track of time
    it almost dark
    here comes Ole farmer Brown
    they race to get dressed
    a blouse cannot be found in leaves
    just the sweater will have to do
    left behind, they scurry out of sight
    a hugh rain storm comes
    washes her blouse into the river
    it’s banks swell into flood plains
    now racing along through wooded areas
    the article of clothing gets trapped
    wrapped around a branch
    the strong current continues
    to beat at this lightweight fabric
    now it looks like the werewolf of London
    has been stalking about these backwoods
    beware of lover’s lanes and full moons
    “I like to meet his taylor…”

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  4. Returning to the scene, even with several police officers in tow could not stop Julie’s fear. She stopped walking waiting for her heart to slow. A gentle hand caught her arm and a soft woman’s voice urged her on. “Can you show us the way to the hut?” Julie nodded and gripped the police woman’s hand tightly. Together they pushed through the dense bush coming face to face with a tin shed. Stepping tentatively Julie took a deep breath as another police officer opened the door to her former prison. She couldn’t look into the depths of its interior and turned her head. A sudden scream left her lips as she looked directly at a torn remnant of her dress. She was immediately taken back to the night of her escape. When she had felt the tug at her clothing she was certain it was him and she would die in the mud and rain. In that moment her will to live had been all consuming. Without looking back Julie had pulled with all her might against the hold on her and heard the ripping of fabric. Sticks and thorns pierced her bare feet, scraped her arms and face but still she had run. Julie had no idea how long she ran on the road before she realised her feet were hitting firm ground. When headlights blazed ahead of her she feared it was him but hoped it wasn’t. After months of imprisonment and abuse her luck changed in an instant. The old couple carefully wrapped her into a blanket and took her straight to the police station.
    Now the investigation was in full swing and her captor behind bars. This was the last piece of the puzzle to ensure he never walked free again.

  5. An ancient mummy rose from the lake and decided to go for a walk. He got caught on the branches, slipped on a patch of snow, and lost some of his wrappings. Unable to free the wrappings, he sulked back to the lake in total embarrassment, never to be heard from again.

  6. The trees rag clothes swayed in the breeze. Each weathered scrap held the secret prayers and wishes of someone unknown. Someone who had walked miles clutching the fabric tightly in their hands, filling its threads with their fevered dreams and fears. Their feet had followed the well worn path around its trunk, three times. Their eyes had chosen this branch, and their fingers had tied the cloth into the tree, before they had turned and walked away, leaving this sacred fragment of their life behind.

  7. it was what remained of my lost friend..a torn piece of entangled and withered..just like her life..lost color, hue and use..left hanging to rot and loose..threads that told it was a life weaved, once so carefully..yet now it loks so ugly..it turned that way..when got lost on the riverside..the other day..I can still hear the screams ..the pain..the tears..shadows in agony..I look at this blankly..trying to fight my emotions..escaping from the find..shutting my mind..I miss you..again..and again..my friend..who I lost on the riverside.

  8. Excellent writing all ~ I tend to take a while to decide on what to post, so I’m obviously too slow… LOL. But the different takes on this are wonderful to see! :D Great picture too Seth!

  9. The wind was whipping way too fast but Tim had promised his son. Sailing was something he had loved as a kid and he innocently wanted to share that with David. The first day of sunshine and seventy degree weather, that would be the day they would go to the lake to teach David how to sail. Tim’s parents had owned the lake house since he was a teenager. Now all his brothers and sisters and their families shared the little lake house in the summers. They had a huge catamaran that he and his siblings still sailed around on. But you don’t teach a ten year old to sail on a catamaran. But there was a boat just the right size. The Sunny was a small two seater dingy with a small sail. The boat was painted bright yellow and the sail was white with a bright yellow sun painted on it. His whole family had grown up learning to sail in the Sunny. Now it was time to teach his own son the art of sailing and he could not think of a better vessel to do it in. But the Sunny was small and the wind was too strong that day. He knew that, but it was a warm and sun filled day otherwise. And for once the lake was not filled with speed boats and wave runners. A quiet day on the lake was rare and it would be almost criminal not to take advantage of it. Not to mention Dave was not about to give up his first chance to get a sailing lesson. He had been waiting all winter, in fact since his birthday in October when his Mom and Dad had told him that he was finally old enough to start learning how to sail. So here they were getting ready to raise the small white sail and catch a ride on the wind. So Tim let Dave pull the ropes and raise the sail on a bright yellow boat three generations old. And the next thing either of them knew they were in the very cold early Spring water of the lake. The wind had caught the Sunny’s sail and whipped it so hard that the little boat had capsized. Luckily they were still right in front of the dock. So they swam into the shallow water near the dock and once Tim could touch the bottom of the lake with his feet he flipped the Sunny back over. The beautiful white sail was shredded and, now that the boat was back upright, the wind ripped the tatters that were left clean off the mast. In fact many tatters caught in the branches of the tall trees around the house. Now every Tim catches sight of a stray, wet, or discolored piece of cloth caught in some branches moving in the wind, he remembers that first sailing lesson he gave his son. And he laughs to himself because sunshine and seventy degree weather can still make for some damn cold water.

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  11. The town feared the worst when the river began to overflow its banks. Times had been very tough since the economic downturn hit in 2008. There were still people in these parts that had reduced or totally lost their insurance coverage for circumstances like this.

    Fortunately, the water receded before it inflicted too much damage on the citizens.

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