Saturday, May 13, 2006
SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS: The Books I would Write
I took this photograph at a defunct cranberry bog near my home where we often walk our dogs. Though it is spring, there are corners of the bog that have succumbed to a spooky eternal winter. The trees are silver with death, their branches devoid of buds. We keep the dogs away from those areas. In past years, the wild quacking of the ducks who returned every year, would drive the animals into a frenzy. This year we've only seen one. When we've visited the bog this year, the solitary duck is silent.
If I could, I would write a book that could make a reader SEE the formerly riotous colors of the place, the scarlet fields, the incredible lush green of the ducks' necks, and HEAR the competing barks made by ducks and dogs.
I would write a book that would make you so hungry for colors like that you would search the world trying to replicate them.
I would write a book that asked questions about the abandoned bicycle in the photograph.
Who owned it, and where did they ride it? How did it end up here? Are they still looking for it, or have they outgrown and forgotten it?
I would write a book that would make you care deeply about questions that never concerned you before.
I would write a book that would keep you up at night, desperate for answers.
I would write a book that would make you thrill at the newness of spring, bicycles, hope; and weep at what is lost forever.
I would write a book that would make you examine one small patch of ground with the the passion and exactitude that my dogs scour the bog with their noses.
If I could, I would write a book that would make you peer into the murky waters, and see yourself.
I would write a book that would make you watch the sky, waiting for the ducks to return and the trees to recapture their green splendor.
So, can you see the duck?