I wanted to share with you a little teaser on where my writing focus will be for the next several months. It is something that has been stirring within for a while, something that I’ve finally been able to grasp character and plot wise.
Tucked away deep in a green meadow, overlooking the east-bound lane of I-25, is an odd little tree. It’s kind of a short, rounded tree without many branches, with just enough green leaves to let everyone know that it was, indeed, still alive. It doesn’t cast much shade, and is easily overshadowed by the thunderous oaks behind it. It just sort of sits there, you know, the way trees do.
I don’t know why this particular tree reaches out to me every time I drive through Kansas to Colorado, but I’m always on the look out for it. As I’m making my way past Colby, I begin thinking about that tree, wondering if it will still be there or will I accidentally miss it this time. It is always there – just sitting there, you know, the way trees do.
Will it talk to me in that familiar voice ? Will it beckon me to come sit underneath its’ sparse branches and just listen? Will I stop this time or just continue on like always and keep wondering, from a distance, about that odd little tree?
And so it was with Tilly, a little girl that people just kind of passed by and wondered about. She was always there as people made their way to and fro, just sort of watching. Like the tree, she didn’t cast much of a shadow, either. Instead, she pierced through people’s souls with her eyes; and just kind of sat there, you know, the way little girls do.