This is a piece that I wrote for my Writer's Craft class, give me some feedback. Thanks.
| The Writer’s Craft: Piece One
My Perfect Place
The sound of gravel churning under the tires of the car slowly fades until it comes to a complete stop. The car slowly rocks forward, then smoothly back as the parking break is applied. I turn the keys in the ignition, followed by the engine of this beautiful machine silently retiring after a long drive. I am in complete silence. There is nothing but the sound of the forest around me, calming my spirits. I remain motionless in the driver’s seat, observing my surroundings. The leaves in the trees dance so elegantly in the wind, as if performing a beauteous routine for me every time I come here. As I further admire the scenery, I can see the sun dancing in the gentle waves of the lake. I am motionless, still, yet I feel as if I am dancing along the leaves and the sun just sitting here. Relaxing my hands, I allow them to slide off the wheel, falling to my sides. I close my eyes and whisper to myself, “I am home.”
As I step out of the car, the breeze sifts through my hair; this is what I have been waiting for. As I breathe the crisp northern air in, I feel somewhat revitalized just being here. Birds’ summer songs in the distance, the rustling of leaves in the wind, the waves crashing down upon the lakefront; this is music to my ears. I find myself standing outside of my car for at least ten minutes before I realize that I have yet to unpack. I open the trunk and grab my few necessities that I have brought with me—clothes, food, and books—and begin to carry them towards the cottage. As I move slowly towards the cottage, the sun is blocked by a nearby tree, and it all becomes visible. The little roof that slopes down towards the grassy hills is still somewhat slanted; shows how well I’d do as a carpenter. The windows are covered by the drapes that I brought last year, and it looks perfect. There are mossy rocks nearby the steps towards the front door, and vines crawl up the sides of the cottage with flowers just blossoming now. I stand there, admiring the structure in which I created some time ago; it’s perfect in every way. I smile before I proceed to advance up the front steps. I slide the key into the door, turning it to hear the bolt lock slowly slide open.
As I open the door, a gust of wind rushes out at me, carrying many fragrances with it. As I inhale, I smell the comforting scent of freshly cut wood from inside. Along with it, I sense a hint of firewood that we had used last year, still lingering in my precious cottage. I step into the doorway and relax my hands, allowing the luggage to slip out from my grip and fall to the floor. I slip my sandals off and hastily push them to the side with my foot. I slowly step further into the cottage, and I make my way into the kitchen. The sun bounces off the many decorative objects laid out across the counter, and creates many colourful reflections on the wall. As I continue through the kitchen, I make my way into the living room. As my feet move onto the carpet, its comforting softness sends this wondrous feeling through my body. I glance about the room, having fond memories being conjured in my head. The old woodstove sits directly in the middle of the room, complimented by the furniture surrounding it. For a second, my eyes are adverted to another room. The door is wide open, and I can see the desk in which I use to write my many stories. At first, I was tempted to throw myself down in front of the desk with my notepad and allow my thoughts to flow onto the paper, but something stopped me.
The sound of gravel being pressed under the tires of a car can be heard once more, and it comes to a slow halt. I can hear the door being opened, followed by the rattling of metal. I recognise this metallic sound; it was Topaz! As I turn around, I can see my elegant Doberman, Topaz, rushing towards me. “Topaz! How’re you doing, baby?” I exclaim as she rushes at me, leaping into me, tackling me onto the couch. I am instantly overwhelmed by a flurry of dog tongues. “Okay, okay. That’s enough.” She then jumps off of me and dashes outside again, running off into the grassy hills of the yard. Just then, I hear the sound of more suitcases being dropped off at the front door. I rush over to see the most majestic sight in the world; my beautiful wife. As she stands in front of the doorway, the wind blows her hair gently as if it were some shampoo commercial. My eyes travel up and down her body, leading up to her eyes. I stare into her beautiful emerald green eyes, and instantly get lost in them. “Are you going to help me unpack, or are you going to stare at me all day, sweetie?” she says, smirking. I snap out of it, shaking my head. “Ah... Sorry.” She laughs and rushes up to me, and I take her in my arms. After a few minutes of embracing each other, my wife walks over to the door to pick up her things. “I’m going to unpack. Maybe you should unpack soon, as well.” I let out a long sigh as she walks into our room and begins to unpack. Scratching the back of my head, the stillness of the cottage becomes more evident. I turn my attention to my little office once more, and as I take a few steps towards it, my wife is heard. “And don’t even think about starting another project, dear. You spend hours locking inside that little desolate place, you know? Go outside, I’ll meet you there.”
Stepping outside, I wonder to myself, “Am I really that predictable?” I laugh silently to myself before continuing into the back yard. As I step out into the yard, my feet are caressed by the small blades of the dark green grass that covered the many hills of my backyard. The view was breathtaking in every way. The sun was still dancing elegantly against the water, performing a scintillating dance for all to see. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the breeze carried the uplifting smell of northern air across the lakeshore. Watching the waves crash down upon the shoreline, I can see the dog sitting on the edge of the dock, staring out into the distance. The sun bouncing off the water created a silhouette of Topaz which looked strangely similar to that of Anubis, the Egyptian “God of the Tombs”, who would conduct the dead to their judgements. Her ears pointed up, and her posture was upright; she was such a graceful animal.
I made my way down the hills leading to the lakefront. As I stepped down towards the water, I can hear the cry of a loon. I direct my attention towards the source of the sound, and I spot the loon. Floating upon the surface of the water, it stares into the water and waits for its prey. After a few minutes—in a burst of speed—the loon shoots under the water. The duration that the loon is under the water, silence overwhelms the landscape, and the wait begins. A minute later, the loon submerges, carrying a fish in its mouth. With a quick flick of its head, the loon sends the fish into the air long enough to open its mouth and consume the fish. The loon lets out one last cry before taking off into the distance. Nature can be so beautiful, especially when you live up north. Everything around you is natural, alive, and beautiful. The air here is unequalled when compared to any other place in the world; it’s so fresh and revitalizing. If I were to be able to stay up here forever, I would. This place is the perfect place, and I’d die for the chance to live up here. The surrounding landscape is simply divine; angelic in every way.
Suddenly hands slip past my arms and hold me tightly. I turn around to see my wife smiling at me. “Hey, Mike.” She then softly kisses my lips, and hugs me tighter. “Hey, do you want to go on a boat ride?” I ask her. “Sure. Bring Topaz though; you know how she gets so jealous when we don’t bring her.” Laughing, I whistle for Topaz. “C’mon baby, let’s go for a boat ride!” Instantly, she turns around and darts towards the boathouse and begins scratching on the door. We make our way down to the boathouse, and I open the door, allowing Topaz to rush into the bow of the boat, wagging her tail so vigorously, that it shakes her whole body in the process. I help my wife into the boat, followed by me leaping into the captain’s chair. I open the glove compartment and search through the mess I left in there for the keys.
After a long search, I finally retrieve the keys, and insert them into the ignition. As I turn the key, the 225 horse power engine roars to life, sending vibrations through my chest. Slowly, I allow the boat to slide out from the boathouse, allowing the boat to turn 180 degrees around, facing the sun. I then slowly push the stick down, and the boat propels fourth, quickly climbing to great speeds. As we first begin to accelerate, the bow of the boat points upwards towards the sky, and the few clouds in the sky are now all we can see. As the boat gains speed, the bow descends slowly. The boat cuts through the wind, and this feeling is spectacular. The sound of the boat cutting into the waves from beneath us creates a pattern, and the silent whistling of the wind is still able to be heard.
After an hour or so of this joy ride, I turn the boat around and begin to head back. On our return, the sun is now setting, and the sky is flushed with a bright orange light, illuminating the clouds. Our boat slowly drifts into the boathouse, and I turn the keys in the ignition once more, allowing the engine to come to a slow stop. Topaz was the first one out of the boat. Poor dog, she was probably sea sick. I helped my wife out, and then myself. “You go on up to the cottage. I’ll just tie the boat up and I’ll be right up there.” I leaned in and kissed my wife on the cheek before she left. After mooring the boat in place, I close the door and lock it, allowing the boat to rest. As I am making my way back up the grassy hills, and stop and shut my eyes. I try to absorb the perfection of the state that I am in at the moment, but I don’t think my mind could possibly fathom that. I continued up to the cottage with a smile.
I enter the cottage, and breath in the familiar smell of the freshly cut wood. No matter how many times I smell this scent, I will never tire of it. Slowly shutting the sliding door behind me, I make my way over to the couch, where I find my wife relaxing silently with the dog at her side. I smirk and creep in beside her. Without saying a word, we share many intimate kisses. Not before long, we’re interrupted by Topaz’s tongue whacking us in the face. “Look, Topaz says, no getting intimate you two!” My wife lets out a loud laugh, and it is so calming to me. I wrap my arms around my wife, and I shut my eyes. After laying there for an hour, with the silent ticking of the clock, and the distant sound of the waves crashing down upon the shoreline, I quickly fall into a deep slumber. The room is now sombre, with me and my wife sleeping and Topaz relaxing on a pillow nearby. The sun slowly retreats behind the horizon, and all is silent. This is my perfect place, and it will forever remain that way.