Sunday, September 27, 2015

Writing Prompt: Fall is Coming

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

This week’s prompt is a photo prompt. Write whatever comes to mind, be it a description, a story, or even a poem.

Write something inspired by this photo. 


Skill Tip: Try focusing on description, but don't use sight as one of the senses.

Share in the comments!



  1. It is my quiet place. I sit on smooth rock aged and worn by time and wind, and rest my weary soul.

    It hypnotizes me; this sound of water trickling over rock, meandering its way to parts unknown. It ripples around stick and mud and plant. Dry leaves fall and plop in the stream to spin in careless circles.

    I sit here, savoring the feel of solitude, the smell of pine. Warm breezes brush my cheek as they flee before the cold winds set to claim this place of quiet contemplation as their own.

    Birds in treetops sing the glory of the day—beautiful songs of joy. My heart swells with it. I, too, am a part of nature. Wonderfully made. This moment in time restores my weary soul, and I am renewed.

    1. This is beautiful! You have a lovely writing style.

  2. What a beautiful photo. I 'd love to paint that scene.

  3. What a gorgeous photo!

  4. Everything stopped; the gurgling stream, the chirping birds and the cool winds. The scent of freesia assaulted my nostrils.

    "You actually found it?" Her soprano was as condescending as before.

    I reached into my pocket for the jagged rock and chucked it. "There's your treasure, now give me my sight back."

    She giggled. "What makes you think I still want that gemstone?"

    "What?!" I clenched my teeth and fists. "We made a deal, so quit toying with me."

    There was a 'pop' sound in front of me. The freesia scent was stronger.

    "Toying with humans is what the fair folk do."

    I swallowed. "Just give me what I paid for."

    She hummed. "Alright," she cupped my cheek with her hand. It was like silk. "Get ready."

    "Oh no." I breathed. She chuckled. "Oh yes."

    Feather-soft lips ghosted over mine. Did she have to keep humiliating me?

    She parted. "Your sight will return by tomorrow morning. Enjoy the autumn festival."

    Everything continued; the gurgling stream, the chirping birds and the cool winds. The scent of freesia lingered stronger than ever.

  5. The gentle flow of water
    Soothes the raging mind
    Whilst the breathy kiss of Autumn
    Enables me to find
    The calm place I’ve been seeking
    Since leaving your mad world.

    The soft and spongy earth
    Feels cool between my toes
    And the musty smell of damp moss
    Gently swirls around my nose
    I breathe the essence deeply
    The lunacy subsides.

  6. Up to her ankles in the creek, holding her skirt up to keep the hem from getting wet, Karen noticed a slight change in the temperature of the water lapping over her toes. It was a sure sign of fall. She closed her eyes, listening to the whisper of the gentle breeze as it disturbed leaves hanging precariously from branches, nearly bare. The midday sun warmed her face, turned upward catching the shadows and light with the movement of the brightly colored foliage. She took a deep breath, her nose alive with the last of fragrant flowers scattered on the forest floor and the fir trees lining the path. “I must remember this moment,” Karen thought, “it may be the only peace I will know for a very long time.”