Friday, April 22, 2011

Ventures

I listen as Eudora Welty whispers in my ear, urging me on down the road.


"Daring," she says.


Her words, just breath against my skin, send a shiver of possibility running through me.  I can almost see her leaning toward her kitchen window looking out over the garden with the camellia's in full bloom; the heat from her coffee mug fogs the glass.  She tells me that journeys lead "seldom in a straight line" but rather spiral, forward and back.  


This fills me with hope.


That's Welty's Natchez Trace in the picture--a bit of the sunken, old Trace first cut by the bison and big game who traveled it from the alluvial plains around the ancient Mississippi up to the salt licks in Tennessee.  There's magic in that worn-down soil.  Magic from the earth and the animals and the blood and the sweat and the spit from centuries of travelers who trod the soft Yazoo clay.  And if you go walking it yourself, that old dirt, full of so many spirits of the unknown, will cling to you, seep into your pores and travel with you wherever you go.


Welty went looking for magic, and she found it.  She tells stories about it.


I am also searching.  For magic.  And wonderment.  I know it is all around me.  When I stop to look, I see it and feel it, hear it and smell it.  It makes me want to tell stories, too.


So with Welty's words at my back, I embark.  The largest part of any adventure is that willingness to venture forth, right?  


And already I have met you wandering out here, too.  I hope we meet often on our journey.  Let me know where I can find you.


You can learn more about Welty's garden or tour her house and read her stories inspired by the Natchez Trace.  If you're a writer, you should check out One Writer's Beginnings in which Welty talks about developing a writer's voice and vision.  I found it inspirational--maybe you will, too.