Sun’s up, it’s midday and no one’s in sight. The cars are lined up like every quaint shop, gallery and cafe has a full stock of employees, but this town ain’t got no bustle. New York City’s drenched in filth and stink, but even with those sensory aversions, every street is filled. Crammed in the shadowy underbelly of manmade things blocking out sunshine, the streets pump thick with humanity like the carotid artery of the metropolis.
This place ain’t that. At all.
This place is a couple of wreaths and a string of lights short of being a Christmas card. My nephew’s LEGO Christmas village looks like this. Maybe the clean mountain air blows the hustle out. Or maybe the rumbling brick sidewalk is a bumpy diversion to foot traffic. I don’t get it, the space is cozy and welcoming, but no one’s here.
I love that even though each of you chose the same image, your imaginations led you down different paths. That's because you did not merely describe what you saw in the photograph but you also depicted the mood, atmosphere, vibe--the feeling of the location. And that is how you create a sense of place for the reader.
The building’s façades looked old-timey, but the shops were modern, selling things such as chocolates, taffy, popcorn, pet items, wine, and gourmet hot sauces. A number of souvenir shops also lined the main street. This small tourist town was tucked into the mountains where the air was dry and cool, but the crowds only came during the summer. This February day was a quiet one.
At the end of Main Street the mountains stand guard with their jagged ridges soften, as much as can be, by the recent snow. Sculptured, majestic and enticing to the adventuresome and how nice for the quaint shop owners thirsty for passerby's to gaze in their shining storefront windows hoping to distract them from continuing their track down Main Street to the mountains’ feet and come inside. This little town is fortunate as it has not seen the neglect and decay of so many main streets across America. Dutifully snow is cleared from the streets and sidewalks and pushed to the curb; shops are painted delightful color combinations with little sign of age other than the presence of arches, corbels, and columns with seating made available for the tired; and the American flag posted at the streets’ start welcoming all as it hangs vertically from its’ pole evidence of a breeze even the slightest is strangely absent.
Sun’s up, it’s midday and no one’s in sight. The cars are lined up like every quaint shop, gallery and cafe has a full stock of employees, but this town ain’t got no bustle. New York City’s drenched in filth and stink, but even with those sensory aversions, every street is filled. Crammed in the shadowy underbelly of manmade things blocking out sunshine, the streets pump thick with humanity like the carotid artery of the metropolis.
This place ain’t that. At all.
This place is a couple of wreaths and a string of lights short of being a Christmas card. My nephew’s LEGO Christmas village looks like this. Maybe the clean mountain air blows the hustle out. Or maybe the rumbling brick sidewalk is a bumpy diversion to foot traffic. I don’t get it, the space is cozy and welcoming, but no one’s here.
I love that even though each of you chose the same image, your imaginations led you down different paths. That's because you did not merely describe what you saw in the photograph but you also depicted the mood, atmosphere, vibe--the feeling of the location. And that is how you create a sense of place for the reader.
The building’s façades looked old-timey, but the shops were modern, selling things such as chocolates, taffy, popcorn, pet items, wine, and gourmet hot sauces. A number of souvenir shops also lined the main street. This small tourist town was tucked into the mountains where the air was dry and cool, but the crowds only came during the summer. This February day was a quiet one.
At the end of Main Street the mountains stand guard with their jagged ridges soften, as much as can be, by the recent snow. Sculptured, majestic and enticing to the adventuresome and how nice for the quaint shop owners thirsty for passerby's to gaze in their shining storefront windows hoping to distract them from continuing their track down Main Street to the mountains’ feet and come inside. This little town is fortunate as it has not seen the neglect and decay of so many main streets across America. Dutifully snow is cleared from the streets and sidewalks and pushed to the curb; shops are painted delightful color combinations with little sign of age other than the presence of arches, corbels, and columns with seating made available for the tired; and the American flag posted at the streets’ start welcoming all as it hangs vertically from its’ pole evidence of a breeze even the slightest is strangely absent.