Of writing retreats and tractors
Last week, I spent a few days on a writing retreat in Blue Ridge, Georgia, with two of my friends. We shared the cost of a rented cabin and brought our own easy-fix food, leaving lots of time to plot and write. I’ve wrangled a new story idea into something that vaguely resembles an outline, but I expect it to change as the characters come to life.
Whenever I needed a break, I stepped onto the deck with my camera and took a few shots. I took these two photos on different days but from approximately the same spot.
I enjoyed the way the view changed with the weather and the time of day, but on the drive home I realized I prefer landscapes with evidence that someone has been there, planting azaleas or raising goats or plowing fields. That’s probably why I prefer fiction or biography to gorgeous coffee-table books of scenic photographs, too. People and their stories (fiction or nonfiction) are just so interesting.
I only caught a glimpse of this tractor as I drove by, aiming my camera through the car window. I wonder who drove the tractor last, and if the stone building is as abandoned as it looks. And if so, why.
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