Hello everyone!
Hope you've all been having a great end of summer. Do you have any final plans before autumn formally arrives?
Here, between fair season and travels and house guests, we've been busy little campers. 😄 This week I'm laying out school plans for this next year + hoping to get in some final time at the pool and do a good redding up of the house.
(On a sad note: we also lost one of our adult cats over this last weekend... The vet couldn't figure out what the issue might be, but we're thinking it had to be a snake bite. We're definitely moving through all the sadness right now and he'll most certainly be missed, but we're trying to focus on being glad that we were able to have him and that we were able to peacefully take care of him at the end.)
I know that was a little heavy, but just trying to share a genuine slice of life here. Both the happy and the difficult...
In other news, my dahlias and zinnias are really hitting their stride and I'm just loving studying all the shapes + the richly saturated colors, especially lovely in the sunset light. :)
I really hope you all have a lovely week!
As always, feel free to join any time here until the next prompt goes up. 💜
Rules:
1. At any time during the month, on your own blog post a scene from a book or film that matches the prompt, including a link back here in your post.
2. Make sure to come back and leave a link to your entry in the box on this post. That's it!
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August's prompt is:
Pre-battle scene in book or film
I'm still making my way through War and Peace (really really enjoying it) and was pulled up short by the following. Tolstoy's descriptions are just breathtaking.
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"Half an hour later the squadron was lined up on the road. The command was heard to “mount” and the soldiers crossed themselves and mounted. Rostóv riding in front gave the order “Forward!” and the hussars, with clanking sabers and subdued talk, their horses’ hoofs splashing in the mud, defiled in fours and moved along the broad road planted with birch trees on each side, following the infantry and a battery that had gone on in front.
"Tattered, blue-purple clouds, reddening in the east, were scudding before the wind. It was growing lighter and lighter. That curly grass which always grows by country roadsides became clearly visible, still wet with the night’s rain; the drooping branches of the birches, also wet, swayed in the wind and flung down bright drops of water to one side. The soldiers’ faces were more and more clearly visible. Rostóv, always closely followed by IlyÃn, rode along the side of the road between two rows of birch trees.
"When campaigning, Rostóv allowed himself the indulgence of riding not a regimental but a Cossack horse. A judge of horses and a sportsman, he had lately procured himself a large, fine, mettlesome, Donéts horse, dun-colored, with light mane and tail, and when he rode it no one could outgallop him. To ride this horse was a pleasure to him, and he thought of the horse, of the morning, of the doctor’s wife, but not once of the impending danger.
"Formerly, when going into action, Rostóv had felt afraid; now he had not the least feeling of fear. He was fearless, not because he had grown used to being under fire (one cannot grow used to danger), but because he had learned how to manage his thoughts when in danger. He had grown accustomed when going into action to think about anything but what would seem most likely to interest him—the impending danger. During the first period of his service, hard as he tried and much as he reproached himself with cowardice, he had not been able to do this, but with time it had come of itself. Now he rode beside IlyÃn under the birch trees, occasionally plucking leaves from a branch that met his hand, sometimes touching his horse’s side with his foot, or, without turning round, handing a pipe he had finished to an hussar riding behind him, with as calm and careless an air as though he were merely out for a ride. He glanced with pity at the excited face of IlyÃn, who talked much and in great agitation. He knew from experience the tormenting expectation of terror and death the cornet was suffering and knew that only time could help him.
"As soon as the sun appeared in a clear strip of sky beneath the clouds, the wind fell, as if it dared not spoil the beauty of the summer morning after the storm; drops still continued to fall, but vertically now, and all was still. The whole sun appeared on the horizon and disappeared behind a long narrow cloud that hung above it. A few minutes later it reappeared brighter still from behind the top of the cloud, tearing its edge. Everything grew bright and glittered. And with that light, and as if in reply to it, came the sound of guns ahead of them."
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You can pop your links below:
🌿 I can't wait to see what you all come up with! 🌿
