One day in the fall, as I left one of my favorite fishing spots, I spotted a tree.
It might have been a maple, perhaps an oak.
What caught my attention was the color, the autumnal splendor of this tree in the waning sunlight of an early November day.
There it was before a cabin amidst the mountains of northcentral Pennsylvania, like a lemon drop upon a stem, its leaves a burst of brilliant yellow.
I tried to take a picture of this tree, just as I described it, but being the amateur photographer that I am, and with nothing other than a cellphone camera to capture this natural wonder, the photo came out dark.
But I expect the tree will remain in my memory.
Perhaps I’ll use that tree in some future writing project.
Those images we encounter in everyday life can serve as springboards to the imagination.
Perhaps that tree was planted many years ago by a man in memory of a beloved son who lost his life in the roiling waters of that nearby trout stream. Maybe the tree is a matter of dispute between two landowners on bordering properties and is in danger of being cut down.
Imagine there was a treehouse in that tree that holds some forbidden secrets of children, now grown, who used it as a hideaway where they engaged in strange rituals.
Pick out an object, any object, and your mind can take flight, devising stories, wonderful tales that should be told.
Sit in a park or an airport and watch people go by.
What about that man in the suit and tie sitting all alone, staring out the window of a commuter train looking forlorn? Did he just lose his job as part of some mass wave of furloughs? What’s his story? What will happen to him?
As writers, we are fortunate to have this vast world surrounding us. There are a million stories to tell, and it’s quite easy to launch a novel, a short story, if we just get out of our own way and let our minds wander.
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