The lovely Delores at Under the Porch Light
had been running this meme for a considerable period of time, week
after week. Computer issues led her to bow out for a while and I took
over. When Delores' absence looked like being more permanent I begged
and cajoled for other volunteers to share providing the prompts, and Words for
Wednesday became a moveable feast. Sadly Delores has (temporarily I hope) discontinued her blog, though we have been told that she will be back in the fullness of time.
Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write. Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image. What we do with those prompts is up to us: a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore... We can use some or all of the prompts.
Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog. I would really like it if as many people as possible joined into this fun meme. If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.
This month the prompts will be published here - but are provided by Margaret Adamson and her friend Sue Fulton.
This week Margaret and Sue have challenged us with the two images below.
Have fun. I can't wait to see where these take people...
Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write. Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image. What we do with those prompts is up to us: a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore... We can use some or all of the prompts.
Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog. I would really like it if as many people as possible joined into this fun meme. If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.
This month the prompts will be published here - but are provided by Margaret Adamson and her friend Sue Fulton.
This week Margaret and Sue have challenged us with the two images below.
Have fun. I can't wait to see where these take people...
This is my first story to the frst picture.(2nd will follow when I write it!)
ReplyDeleteI had always wanted to be a helicopter pilot since my parents took me in one over the Victoria Falls when I was 8 years old. I was hooked. Dad told me that only men flew helicopters but I was determined to make my dream come true some day.
Fortunately, I had a good brain and became a lawyer and was very fortunate to land a great job with very good money. I reckoned this was my chance to save as much as I could as I had investigated the requirements and cost of training to become a helicopter pilot and it was huge!
It was a lust for adventure and to fulfill my childhood dream that at the age of 31, I passed the necessary medical and enrolled in two-years of training with Elite Helicopters at Goodwood aerodrome.
Helicopters appealed over aeroplanes because, they are far more of a thrill: "Flying an aeroplane is a bit like playing elaborate video games – you push a few buttons and it flies itself – whereas helicopters are much more capricious and require precise mental and physical co-ordination. It's like trying to spin plates while reciting the alphabet backwards in Urdu."
To complete my advanced pilot training with Helicopter Services in High Wycombe I sold my home and moved in with my parents to fund the training. The first job I picked up was a flying instructor which, bizarrely, is often the first job you can get when you qualify. It's a case of the blind leading the blind, and you have to get used to multiple attempts on your life every week because students know no better.
After a few years, I met a wonderful man who I have since married and we decided to settle in Australia as this is where he had been brought up until he left for university in the UK. Due to his contacts in and around Cairns, I was able to be employed as a helicopter pilot flying daily over the Great Barrier Reef. How cool is that!
Four years on, flying has still not lost its edge for me and I still love the thrill of flying helicopters. Hundreds of hours of training and thousands of pounds were required for me to achieve my childhood dream of becoming a helicopter pilot and now that is a fabulous reality.
People often ask me, 'Are helicopters dangerous?' Of course they are, in the wrong hands. However, the thrill of seeing the beauty of our earth and sea from above and sharing it with others far out weighs any possible danger. So in this photograph you get a little glimpse of the wonderful Great Barrier Reef.
.
Margaret: Love it. And rather a lot of things are dangerous in the wrong hands. And few things are as beautiful as the reef.
DeleteGreat post, Margaret. Flying in a helicopter is awesome. Unfortunately, I've on had that pleasurable, exhilarating experience once...but I am so glad I did have that one experience, rather than none.
Deletetrue story? I've never been in a helicopter, although I've often wished I could take just one flight.
DeleteNo it is not a true story. The only true bit is I took this photograph while flying over the Great Barrier Reef.
DeleteHi Margaret - amazing life story .. so interesting to read ... cheers Hilary
DeleteIt's easy, it is a 'drone', ha ha ha.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteBob Bushell: If you want it to be a drone, it can be. Which is one of the best things about Words for Wednesday. The same things take us to very different places.
DeleteOh and they do lead us on journeys!
ReplyDeleteCloudia: They do don't they?
DeleteNow Cloudia, where are they taking you?
DeleteOne's imagination could fly with these two pictures.
ReplyDeleteDeniseinVA: Mine is certainly stirring.
DeleteSo Denise, where is your imagination taking you too? Please share.
DeleteMy heart is soaring
ReplyDeleteI must find the road calling
Return to her side
how'd I do?
Martin Kloess: You rocked it. Both images covered in such a short piece. Thank you for joining in.
DeleteDitto EC's comment.
DeleteWell done Martin. Short and sweet.
DeleteYour 3 lines say it all.
DeleteHere's my story based around the images given.
ReplyDelete"By the time I reached Townsville there was little doubt I was suffering from a severe case of white line fever.
My road trip had begun in Melbourne.
From the southern city I drove 870ks (540 miles) north to Sydney for a brief three hour stop-over.
After refueling both body and vehicle, wasting little time, I hit the highway once again, and drove further north to Brisbane, 920ks away – 571 miles.
In Brisbane I regained my equilibrium for only a few hours before starting the longest leg of the trip. The only thing on my mind was getting home. I’d been away too long.
Leaving Brisbane, once again, the rubber of my four tyres made friends with the highway...the long and winding road.
My mainland journey finished 1337kms (830 miles) at Townsville in North Queensland.
By the time I reached the northern city the white line of the highway felt as if it had been tattooed permanently onto my eyes.
However, the tedious, long drive had been worth it.
At Townsville airport my heart leapt with joy. Adrenaline flowed through me as it did every time I climbed aboard the Grumman Mallard, the amphibian seaplane that would take me across the waters of the Coral Sea to my island home....Hinchinbrook Island.
Once I heard the seaplane's twin engines fire up, I relaxed. It was time to enjoy the flight."
Lee: It would be hard to look at those scenes without joy...
DeleteI've heard about that white line fever, I don't imagine it would be easy living with that days or weeks at a time like truckers do. I can feel you relaxing into your seat as the plane takes off for home :)
DeleteNever heard of white line fever. Well written story.
DeleteThere was a movie called White Line Fever, have experienced a little of it myself, on long trips.
DeleteWhat I love about this exercise is that everyone has a different take on the same item. It's a wonderful way to stir our imagination. The photos can depict whatever we want them to. :)
ReplyDeleteMason Canyon: You are so very right. I am always amazed at the flexibility and the creativity of the people who play. Amazed and awed.
DeleteMason, what are the shots saying to you?
DeleteFor eleven months of the year my life is dark, rigid, constrained. I follow directions and endure the implacable routine. There are no diversions or colour on this road.
ReplyDeleteIt is all worth it though. For that final month of the year I LIVE. I soar, and revel in vibrancy, colour and life. And someday I won't come back to earth again...
That's quite emotive, evocative. Food for thought, well done, EC. :)
DeleteThat's quite a rigid timetable EC; if only the routine and revelry could be better balanced, timewise.
DeleteI certainly would LIVE for that 1 month of freedom and colour. Great take on the picture.
DeleteThe top image, upon first glance, made me think immediately of fishing in the ocean.
ReplyDeleteBea: Oh yes. And the darker blue fringe could be deep water - or the world falling away...
DeleteWonderful the different takes on these shots.
DeleteMile after mile after mile passed and all I could think was "Am I running toward or running away?"
ReplyDeleteAnne in the kitchen: Towards I hope. I have done more than enough of the away caper over the years. And I don't run fast enough.
DeleteI suppose you could be doing both those things at once. That white line does make one think.
DeleteWhen I looked at the photo the sun was bright and the photo was very dark. It just looked like a troubled road so I went with it.
DeleteAlways a plane trip worries me, how can that big heavy thing stay up in the sky but oh the relief when we are again on solid earth, the runway always a welcome sight.
ReplyDeleteMerle...........
Merlesworld: Me too. I really don't like planes. Which isn't rational. I would LOVE to be able to fly like a bird. An eagle perhaps...
DeleteI love travelling so as I live on an island I do fly a lot but I love it. I am always glad when we land safely but flying is safer than travelling in a car or even being in your home and they are on solid ground.
Deletehttp://lookingupinlife.blogspot.com/2016/03/wednesdays-words.html
ReplyDeleteCindi Summerlin: Loved your story, and hope that lots of other people visit you to read it.
DeleteNo actual words? Yikes!
ReplyDeletec'mon brain, start ticking....
River: Two minds with but a single thought. I panicked a bit too.
DeleteCome on River, what do your eyes see? What is your imagination telling you?
DeleteSo many things....:D
DeleteThis is my 2nd story for the 2nd photograph.
ReplyDeleteNow what does this line say to me? Is it going somewhere or coming back? Who knows! However it reminds me that for some reason, I have NO sense of direction. Ah yes! I heard a lot of you saying, ' that's ' me also.
No one ever believes how bad mine is and when I go wrong they are always surprised. Why? When I warned them! Unbelievers!
I was on a trip with my nursing buddies one day who, by the way I had known for over 40 years at that time. Now you would have thought they would have known of my missing bit in my brain. No, although they certainly do now!
After having stopped at a lovely restauaunt for lunch, we then had all gone to the 'ladies' and when I was at the head of them as we were coming out of the door, I turned the wrong way. Quickly they told me it was the other way but then I walked into an iron large gate, the kind you had in the old lifts in large department stores and you could see through it. I saw the cafe where we had come from, but the gates were locked, in fact a huge change wwas also around it! I paniced! I turned the the group and told them that we had been locked in and what would we do!? They all started to laugh, as of course once again I had missed the correct way out.
They never let me forgot this although I had another episode of getting lost in a toilet with them but perhaps that is enough' toilet' humour for one day!
Correction - change should be CHAIN and this is a true story!
DeleteMargaret Adamson: Another great story. You have all my sympathies. My partner has less than no direction sense. Mine, fortunately, is quite good.
DeleteThis is funny, just one wrong turn and you are lost. I wonder if it was because you turned left to go in and your body remembered that so did the same on coming out? This might be why people get lost in mazes/labyrinths.
DeleteRiver I never thought of that however in my case it is not the case becasue many times I am only going in one direction and then have to choose what way next and not thinkingly I trun the wrong way. Now when I think about it and try and work it out - wrong again!!! I am resigned that that piece is missing in me!! See I knew I was not perfect!
DeleteI'm with River - what, no words?! But after finding a list of rhymes for "white line" I could not resist using them.
ReplyDelete---------
It's only a white line, a common road white line.
It isn't a fault line, a coastline, a waistline,
A deadline or roofline or pipeline or tree line;
Should not be confused with an airline or clothesline
Or bustline or breadline or baseline or byline;
And certainly not with a red line or blue line.
But if you must drive after dark, I opine
The white line is always a critical lifeline.
HI Jenny I am very glad you let that white line take over your imagination and come up with this brilliant poem. I loved it, ery clever. Now I wonder can you think 'out of the box'again for the other photograph?
Deletejenny_o: This is a heap of fun. And yes, that white line is indeed a lifeline.
Deletedefinitely a critical lifeline, yet one that mesmerises too often when driving too long.
DeleteI love that Jenny
DeleteHi Jenny O .. what a fun story line for a white line .. congratulations on getting 10/10 for that .. cheers Hilary
ReplyDeleteHi EC - these two photos defeated me .. I'm with the word geeks! Cheers - but there's some fun stories here - Hilary
ReplyDeleteHilary Melton-Butcher: How nice to learn that someone else responds much better to words than images. Despite the 1000 words they are supposed to tell.
Delete"Drone" they call me, unthinking machine. Do not those of flesh know that they imbue their creations with a bit of their own spark? I fly over land, over sea, over road. I weep when they strap projectiles of death onto me. Do they not know they are killing themselves?
ReplyDeleteI really, REALLY like this.
DeleteBecause it appeals to my interest in speculative fiction and anthromorphization.
DeleteRoland Yeomans: Echoing jenny_o. This is brilliant. Powerful and true.
DeleteNice one Roland ...nice one
Deletevery nice!
DeleteGreat take on the first shot.
DeleteThank you all!
ReplyDeleteHBF: I really hope you are up to playing this week too. I am always awed by your creations.
DeleteThe best part about writing here and in the other locations for Words For Wednesday is the positive encouragement. It's amazing how that lets a tentative person take chances (speaking for myself, although I bet I'm not the only one).
ReplyDeletejenny_o: DEFINITELY not alone. When I first found the meme at Delores' site and started playing I loved it. And have now been playing for a couple of years.
DeleteThe aerial view confused the pilot. Suddenly she realised that the aeroplane she was in charge of was no longer straddling the white line on the hot tarmac. Her forehead quickly filled u with silver pearls of sweat...
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
A Cuban in London: If the first I knew that I was airborne was through looking out the window pearls of sweat would be the least of my problems.
DeleteI am so impressed with the way you cover these prompts in a very few words.
Sweet and short. Well done.
DeleteI love to fly, from the ground at least, looking up, eyes shielded to the suns' glare, watching those fabulous small planes and helicopters, daring and free, soar and dive above me. It also helps the dream to wear ear plugs. Choppers are unpleasantly noisy. But dreams I had. About flying. I wanted to!
ReplyDeleteI had my chance. The small airport was offering free rides, to children under 16. I was pushing that limit a bit, being just over sweet 16, but I talked my way into the fish eye cockpit of a chopper. OMG, was I ever ready for this.
Or was I?
The lurch as we lifted off the ground left my stomach ground level while the rest of me did soar upward. I swallowed repeatedly to keep my breakfast from becoming chopper decor. The view through the clear cockpit bubble of the ocean reefs and beyond took my breath away. This was heaven.
Until the loud sounds. Crack! Boom. And then the once smooth moves of the chopper, rattling along, became very noisy, with the engine sounding like an unmuffled motor bike, and jerky. I turned to the pilot but he was fighting the stick with both hands and he gave me only one quick wild eyed glance.
We were losing altitude fast. Below, the pavement, then the road were getting too close for comfort. I stared at that white line, of the road, just outside the fairgrounds where we'd taken off, as it seemed to shoot upwards at us as we hovered in mid air suspended in ultra slow motion. I could hear my heart beat, but it was sooo slow....thud....thud....thud.
Then we landed, easy as pie, no problemo. Right on that roadway, dead center on the white line. Took minutes for me to realize I was alive and on the ground. The pilot came around to help me out and to steer me clear of the rear rotor.
When out of earshot of the whooshing blades, I asked the pilot, who was a little pale, "What happened?"
He shrugged, and motioned upwards. "The birds," he said. "The birds?" I asked, not understanding.
"Yeah, they don't like us in their airspace. If we're low enough, they're waiting, flying above, and drop stones or sticks, try to hit the blades, anything to mess us up and send us home. Might be sport to them too, you know, the young ones prove themselves by hitting a chopper with a French Fry from the beach. It's the rocks that get us though, or the really big sticks."
I walked home. I wore a hard hat I grabbed off a construction site worker's open truck. I couldn't risk the wrath of the birds carrying over. I took to wearing a disguise thereafter, when I visited that beach. Never did fly again after that.
Postscript: The chopper pilot stormed into the airport managers' office. "You were supposed to send out the hawks, to clear out those damn mobber flocks. They damn near killed me this time. How will it look for business if they take a chopper down with a kid inside?"
Delete"We did!" the manger protested. "The gulls bribed them, I'm sure of it. You know how the hawks are, so damn gullible. The gulls or the ravens will tell them there'll be a fresh rabbit and there never is, but they believe them every time."
"Damn hawks," the pilot muttered, as he wandered off.
Strayer: I am loving this. Malevolent birds. Seems fair to me - we invade their airspace after all.
DeleteThis is really interesting, never thought about the birds getting a little revenge before.
DeleteHI Strayer This is a brilliant story. Never thought of the birds' objection that we were in their air space. The postscript is very funny.
DeleteI love it! Still chuckling over the p.s :)
DeleteIf birds could talk, I bet they'd tell us things like this.
running the road
ReplyDeletespying above me
no place to hide
no safe space
water's edge solace
sand floating warm water
Linda Starr: I find solace in water too. Moving or still. Love the way you captured the menace of the plane above.
DeleteLinda I love your take on the photographs.
DeleteMy story will appear at my blog site tomorrow, Friday 11th.
ReplyDeleteForgot the link
ReplyDeletehttp://river-driftingthroughlife.blogspot.com.au
River: Looking forward to it.
DeleteHi! I'm in for April words.
ReplyDeleteRiot Kitty: I am so pleased. Thank you.
DeleteThat's an interesting photo duo to be sure. Gets the mind flying. ;)
ReplyDeletemail4rosey: Where did the photos take you?
DeleteI picked photo number two! My story is a bit dark but here it is...
ReplyDeleteThe line on the pavement are like a switch between light and dark. I look down. I always look down. Will today be different?
“Follow me girl. Time for your exam,” she says. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”
A middle aged man in waist length coat the color of milk appears.
“Why didn’t you take her to the emergency room?” he asks squinting his eyes.
“I can’t take her to there, I will have to wait for hours. Please just this once.” Katie begs. She leaned forward and whispers something in his right ear.
I want to scream and tell them I am not a “her!” Or did I lose my name too?
“Here, take your jumper off and sit on the exam table, we will be back in a minute.” He throws a wad of fabric at me and closes the cold steel door. I discover a robe just like the angels, I wondered if these are my pajamas.
I obeyed him and sit on the sea foam green bed while placing my feet in the cold metal foot rest.
It is like sitting in a rocket ship about to go to space for the first time? Brushing the loose strains of hair from my eyes, I look up at the mildew growing behind several tiled squares wondering if heaven was clean.
I feel dirty.
Confusion set upon me like a cloud concealing the sun. I cry, squirm, and fight. A storm brews inside me. Why are they doing the same thing as my family?
“Katie, could you get the smaller speculum?” She tries to hold me down.
“Get me the Pederson Katie.” With lips compressed and a flushed face he continues. “I cannot do this Dammit!” He says, as he releases my feet.
The exam stops.
Instantly, I feel relieved and decide to speak for the first time in between breath and sobs. I sit up, and with a quivering voice ask, “Does this mean that I am still a virgin like Mary?”
His mouth gapes, his nose turns as if he had just burned toast. He steps backwards. With an intense glare toward Katie, he throws the speculum across the room and slams the door as he exits. Katie chases after him, saying, “I am sorry.”
I was alone again.
Fidgeting with the loose fabric covering me, I hop off the paper covered table and walk over to the door. With a flip of the plastic switch, I turn the lights off.
Ginger Dawn Harman: Dark, powerful, poignant and heart hurting.
DeleteYes very dark. I am sure it is becaus4e of all that I have read his week. Next week will be much lighter with humor.
DeleteGinger Dawn Harman: Not a problem. Without dark we cannot see the light. We need to recognise and acknowledge both. Sadly.
DeleteWhat?! No words? You mean I have to scatter about for my own? No real complaints here. I will post my take at my site on Friday.
ReplyDeleteSusan Kane: Looking forward to your creation. As always.
DeleteInteresting stories that each have told.
ReplyDeleteMargaret-whiteangel: They are aren't they? So very different too.
DeleteDefinitely interesting images to write about. Always fun to read the stories people come up with. :)
ReplyDelete~Jess
DMS ~ Jess: It is. Fun, and often awe inspiring.
DeleteI don't have anything to contribute but wanted to stop in before I close the lid on my coffin for the night. Wishing you a happy weekend.
ReplyDeleteThe Happy Whisk: How did I miss this? Our weekend wasn't bad, and I hope yours was productive and fun.
DeleteThe top photo takes me on a trip to the Caribbean! I want to go there and wait out the rest of March!
ReplyDeleteDawn@Lighten Up!: I hope March is being lamblike for you.
DeleteThat first picture reminds me of my mutant series!
ReplyDeleteHave an excellent weekend:)
Sandra Cox: Apologies for missing this. I hope your week is going well.
Delete