What I Saw

Has your imagination ever gotten the best of you? You know … to the point where the sound of a snapping twig is, no doubt, a mountain lion crouching in the creosote bushes? Or that smell – a thick, musky animal scent – is definitely a band of wild javelina?

Okay … most of you would not have those thoughts since they’re so specific to the Arizona desert. But my point is that the mind has the wonderful ability to heighten our senses – sometimes creating fear, sometimes euphoria.

I don’t often get spooked during my morning jogs, but it has happened on those two occasions mentioned above. And again last week when I heard crunching up above me near the train trestle. I glanced up just in time to see ears descending along the ridge on the other side of the tracks. The glimpse was so quick, I couldn’t tell: Dog ears? Coyote ears? Bobcat ears? Mountain lion ears? Crap.

This bobcat was photographed on our property with the trail camera we set up to capture wildlife. He is a fine specimen, ranging on the very large size for bobcats (we estimate he’s a 30 pounder, at least). Click to enlarge.

The most unsettling part of my recent brush with nature was that the mysterious ears were taking the same trajectory as me. We were both headed down the hill, under the trestle, sure to intersect at some point. To be sure this didn’t happen, I clapped along like a happy fool, hoping to scare “it” away.

Lest you think I’m a wuss, I would say that, generally, even the rustling of something under a nearby bush doesn’t rattle me since I’m used to seeing the usual noisemaker: most often a harmless rabbit or lizard. I’ve even stepped around rattlesnakes to continue along my jog.

But there are days when my mind “goes there,” making for an adrenaline-packed exercise routine. I never did see the owner of the ears, but rest assured, whatever it was, it jogged right along with me, conjured up in my mind every step of the way.

For Writers: What is it that triggers an overreaction in our senses? A certain thought already rattling around in our heads that seems to explode with each breath once we’ve been startled? Pure fear? An eerie sound? A smell?

Whatever the catalyst, as writers, I think we need to take a time-out after such an event. Pull out the pad and paper and scratch out that sensory experience while it’s fresh. We’ve got to find a way to harness that fear, that adrenaline, that overreaction – for the sake of our novels. Just think how much more vivid our descriptions would be if we could transport ourselves back to those moments of heightened sensory perception…

I, for one, did just that after these incidents. I came home, jotted notes about the way my body physically reacted, the thoughts zipping through my head, the smells, the sounds, so that, when I’m writing a frightening scene or a nature scene, I can borrow from my own personal experience. Give it a try!

Even though hubby and I live in the desert “boonies,” I continue to be amazed at the amount of foot traffic along the remote, now-unused mining tracks that border our property.

My imagination never stops when I jog along this section of track, envisioning various travelers, spanning decades, making their way to a new destination. I took one look at this photo and thought, “Wild West!” Click to enlarge.

Just last week, I was jogging beneath the train trestle, some 40-feet high, and watched a young man gingerly walk across it (gulp … yes, there are some spots with big gaps, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve never been brave enough to cross it myself).

I waved. He waved. And it got me to thinking. Was he some adventuresome spirit taking a journey in the desert southwest that he could someday share with his grandchildren? Have the hard economic times sent him walking, in search of a better life – or forced him into survival mode (I’ve seen far too much of this, lately)? Or is he a local who finds it safer to walk the tracks than the highway?

It’s fascinating to ponder where this man’s story began … and to postulate where it will end. That propensity to find a story in everything is probably why I’m a writer. But what if you’re not a writer? Have you ever thought about the paths you’ve chosen, and how your life might be different if you’d taken the “other” fork in the proverbial road? Would life have been better, do you think? Or do you think you’re right where you belong?

For the record: I believe I’m right where I belong.

For Writers: What choices did you make that led you to writing, or that are leading you to that path? Could you have chosen a different route that could have gotten you there quicker?

I, for one, grew up a bookworm – the kind that hounded my favorite authors (sorry Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume) with fan letters. So the fact that I ended up pursuing the career of a full-time freelance writer, and now a novelist, isn’t surprising. It took me a while, though the English language and reading were always a part of my professional life. While I did earn English and Communications teaching certification for grades 7-12, I actually chose the marketing communications route right out of college.

That decision, ironically, afforded me the opportunity to pursue a freelance career seven years later, which has now given me the opportunity to flex my creative writing muscles. I’m, indeed, right where I belong, even though I took the long road.

What about you? Are you where you want to be with your writing goals, your writing life? If not, how can you get there? What would inspire you to take the other fork in the road today?