It’s time for you to take me on a stroll through your mind, past your secrets, and into your imagination. Tell me a grand story, or write me a small poem. Heck, I’ll even take a word. Just write.
Your Story is a SethSnap series in which you get to decide the story behind the photos. You can write a story, a poem or even just one word. You decide. To see previous Your Story posts click on “Story Time” on the right.
No matter how hard he tried Bob Schrom always came second.
It had been going on for a long time and it was only just lately that he had noticed that he’d never been third or fourth in anything, and he had never been first.
No one remembers who won the silver medal in the marathon at the Melbourne Olympics. 1956 was a long time ago and because of the boycot of the US media there was no world wide coverage.
There is a lovely colour movie but even so it majors on the winners; that is how the world is structured.
His marathon running days were over and as he walked along this quiet country road he thought about his life and he wondered where all his friends had gone.
Being second wasn’t all bad; the bloke who won that marathon had died first.
Second was fine on this occasion.
Nice short story. Thanks.
The road took them to a place beyond reality. No cell service, no television, no honking horns. Just peace. Just nature. Seth this is a gorgeous picture.
Thanks Stephanie. 🙂
This lane I see before me gives me the comfort of cool shady trees as I glide through. I no longer feel tired. I feel light and translucent. The rustling leaves whisper to me while the rays of the sun play hide and seek. I am in complete tune with nature. Thank you Seth.
Even thought the trees may be taller, this photo reminds me of many small pathways I aw on a visit to Denmark, I wrote a poem recently about this very thing.
Home Sweet Home afar from me,
At least 10 hours over sky and sea,
A fairy tale land of red and white,
of rain, and wind, and winter nights.
Yet still you send my heart a flutter,
And here, I can but get your butter,
Cos’ when I’m sad and feeling down,
You can lift my spirits like a children’s clown.
What is this strange longing and connection,
I feel for such warm and fuzzy introspection?
Of land and family long dead and passed,
Would they think me to be completely daft?
Yet I am of them, and they are of me,
This continual spreading of the family tree.
The branches are like the ancient Birch
Resilient, pervasive til one drops off the Perch.
If only I could stay or perhaps visit more often,
But my responsibilities and circumstances rarely soften.
So I must dream and wish and be ever so frugal,
And if I can’t afford to travel there, there is always Google!
By Amanda Mac
Thanks for the poem. This is an actual two lane road. Very small huh?
Reblogged this on Something to Ponder About and commented:
This is a great idea to get your bloggers writing..
Thanks for the reblog.
wash over me
cell phones and jangled deadlines
of so-called civilization.
detail the inner,
polish off the debris.
Indeed Ellen. Thanks.
Shared this on my blog today. I love this photo and was inspired to write a poem. Thanks.
Sunlight peeks through emerald trees
Twinkling golden with each breeze
Shadows play along the walk
And echo smiles as people talk
Spring reveals her timeless veil
Upon the earth with colors pale
Rustling leaves dance in the sky
While songbirds chant their sweet reply.
Thanks so much.
ciao! luvFAB post.
This is the road that we’d like to lead us home.
Yes home, nice. 🙂
Green filtering sun is the most peacful sanctuary. There’s tranquility, there’s cool atmosphere, there’s even love that’s there for each of us. A rare place on our planet.
Sunlight peeks through leaves, leading me to where I wish to be!
Yes. Silent passage to SethSnapLand 😉
“No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.”
Nice! Thanks Viveka.
In the dream, I found myself walking along a pathway, lined with deep dark forest on either side. I had no idea where the path led, but something propelled me forward.
A rustling sound came from within the tangled brush.
My imagination prickled.
And then I realised…..there were lions…..stalking, prowling lions, watching me, following me.
Nowhere to run, to hide, to escape!
A nightmare, this path would lead me to.
(and it did, in a recent dream.)
Wow. Thanks for sharing.
Zack knew he had to go down the path to reach the treasure but he didn’t trust the trees. He was sure that path was wider a minute ago. 😉
Catherine, the trees here are friendly. There is only one bad tree. 🙂
Oh it’s it’s the garden of Eden lol.
She was sure she’d been down this road before. It felt like home. It felt like she was a girl again, not a 93-year-old woman riding along in a car beside a man that she was sure she was supposed to remember but didn’t. He was taking her somewhere. She couldn’t recall where he said they were going, but this road seemed familiar. It seemed like home.
Ah, we’ll all be there. Somedays, I feel I already am.
No wind, no animals. But the trees moved anyway. I don’t think I want to be here.
Ha. thanks David.
The calm, gentle voice of the route guidance system said: “turn left after 50 metres”. “This can’t be the right road to Rome (Georgia)”, mumbled Stephen – and he managed to talk in parentheses. There wasn’t much petrol left and he hadn’t seen another car since an hour. Julian, who was sitting in the back seat, was scratching his beard and muttered: “all roads lead to Rome.”
Very interesting. 🙂 thx.
blue sky beckons
through the leaves
sun shining brightly
through the trees
waving their branches
firmly in their place
laughing at us humans
walking earth’s face
refusing to stay rooted
determined to fly
very nice. thanks.
I thought you were taking me to the beach!!! But, hey, this is beautiful…..
I love these prompts, and one of these days, I’m going to find time to do one.
Anyway, you’ve been nominated for the Sunshine Award! Please see http://seriouslywritingwoman.wordpress.com/2013/06/16/the-sunshine-award-wow/ for details.
I need to go! I hope there’s a latrine here somewhere. 🙂
Indeed. 🙂 you’ll have to hold it.
You know Terrence Malick? If not, he’s a filmaker that I think would be right up your aesthetic alley.
I don’t. I’ll look him up.
Home, for me. 😉
🙂 Thanks Kevin.
In this long and leafy
What will you
you will enter
and freeze in
Nice. 🙂 Thanks.