A fertile mind

tractor wheel

It’s a merciless life. Awake before the sun, working the earth until long after the sun sets. Turning the hard packed soil where rocks are more plentiful than crops, a back- and spirit-breaking effort that never ends.

My field is my mind, my plough is my pen. I toil to cultivate a crop of words that will yield sustaining tales. Digging deep furrows, churning up memories, experiences and relationships, I plant kernels of thought, cull word weeds, and foster growth during dry spells.

It’s a relentless pursuit for an uncertain harvest, but I’m grateful for what fruit I reap.

The 100 Word Challenge is to tell a story in only 100 words. This week’s theme is “Toil”

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I believe all good fiction includes an element of truth, and all good photography includes an element of fantasy. In this journal I hope to give voice to the stories swirling around in my head, and to capture the images I see through my camera’s lens.

12 thoughts on “A fertile mind

  1. Woman, you have struck the proverbial nail on its proverbial head. This is exactly what it’s like. Well said. Well written. Well done.

    Like

  2. My grandparents like to talk about their life before the 1950s when they had to work in the fields for their families. It sounds like they miss it, but I don’t think they do.

    This is my favorite part:

    “My field is my mind, my plough is my pen. I toil to cultivate a crop of words that will yield sustaining tales. ”

    It is why we are friends and writing partners.

    Like

    1. My grandfather alway had a garden, always. I wish I had a tenth of his farming knowledge. I have such a brown thumb. I have to be satisfied with the words I can grow in my head… maybe it’s all that “manure” I have up there. HA!

      Like

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