Encounters with the Writing Process
|I told Noyoki who wanted to become a travel writer to observe and write what she sees in her hometown first. Then, I thought, whether travel writing or not, why don't I take my own advice?
These are the snippets I penned on scrap paper while sitting in the car or waiting for my hubby in the mall.
The Palm Tree in Front of the Suntrust Bank
This specific palm tree to the left of the entrance to the bank has a width-wide striated trunk, resembling circles thrown on a stick, one on top of another. As the trunk rises, the circles darken to give way to large, bright light-green sheath to about two feet in length. From this sheath, as if held by a tight fist beneath, the fronds stem upwards and outwards bursting in freedom. The fronds are thin strips of green leaves alongside and at the two sides of a middle stem. They remind me of young girls looking down at something who let their long hair loose on both sides of their faces with only their noses visible. Maybe this palm tree has the spirit of a young person inside it. I can see it in its excitement when the wind rustles by.
Le Macaron (French Pastries) At the Mall
I am sitting in the middle of the mall, facing the empty Le Macaron, which has stayed empty ever since this pastry place opened up about a year ago. The place is well-lighted, immaculate, and shiny, most of the shine is due to the metallic bistro tables and chairs. The place advertises that if offers seventeen flavors of French-crafted macarons made from scratch with no preservatives nor artificial flavors and totally gluten-free. So far so good, but the store is empty. Any time I sit across it, I see no customers. How they manage, I don’t know.
The only person I see in there is the owner who sits on a bistro chair with his laptop on the small round table in front of him. People look at him and shake their heads as they pass by, but no one ventures inside. No wonder, each pastry is as big as a thimble with a colorful frosting covering it.
The only one long rectangular counter inside displays the wares, all in various colors looking like tiny dots. If one would miss seeing the sign, one would take the place as a jewelry store displaying its pricey jewelry under the glass covering of that countertop, even though I have seen more jewelry at display even inside the smallest jewelry store.
A friend told me she saw once, but only once, a family with four children going in Le Macaron with each child choosing a tiny dot of a pastry. So there might have been a few buyers, I just hope this family wasn’t the only buyer in the past year.