Writing Marathon Excerpt

It’s almost chilling sitting out on the prairie, not because of the cool wind, but because of all the sights and sounds. It’s relaxing but almost overwhelming. The more you think about, the more your brain becomes overwhelmed by the weight of the sounds. There’s birds chirping, frogs croaking, bugs…

Then the rain interrupts your train of thought. There’s no warning; it’s a split second decision by the sky to start pouring all of the sudden. We may be surprised but the rest of the prairie is not. Life carries on as normal. The birds chirp, the frogs croak; the only difference is that this all happens as droplets of water fall from the darkened sky.

As we’re sitting here observing nature from the comfort of our covered patio, I realize something: we’re the ones out of place in the prairie. Everything would flow smoothly if it wasn’t for human intrusion. We’re sitting too close to a nest for a bird to land. We’re too loud for snakes to come out of their holes. We’re too concerned about technology and pictures to take notice to the world around us. We’re too out of place in a world that was once peaceful without us.


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