Writing Practice – 11/13/2018

Write about this picture…

courtesy of MJK

There is a stillness, a calm, settled about the scene. The grey and white of the sky blends with the grey and white of the grounds, blends with the grey and white of the tree, stands contrasted by the bright, electric blue of the trash can. It is as if everything else is trying to hide, to disappear, to blend into the surroundings, but the trash can, like a Broadway star, or a passing comet, chooses to burn brightly in the foreground, so that none shall miss it. It makes its presence known not so much by action, but by stature, by being, by character.

It is strong, it says. It is resilient. It is powerful and enduring. It lasts, it holds across the years and decades and centuries and eons, it remains when the transience of all the others have come and gone. Grass, green now, will wither and die in the summer heat. Snow, white and soft now, will first harden and freeze as the ambient temperature drops, then will evaporate or melt as the sun warms up the surface again. The tree, even, with its green-orange-brown cycle, will not have any similar claim to permanence. It will transform, will grow, will fade, will fall eventually rot or fire or man, will be no longer, but the can, solid, stark, knows no such fear.

And, because of its boldness, because of its resilience, it fears nothing. Fears no wind, or water, or predator. And thus it has no need of camoflage. No worry about hiding, no chance of discovery and destruction, so it can be bold, can be proud, can be prominent, and clothe itself in brightness, in radiance, in vibrancy, and stand as a beacon to self-awareness, resilience, permanence, and the truth across the days and across the [illegible].

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