Look! Look!

Look! Look! People write here. People leave comments here. Are you reading them? Don’t skip that part of the blog. It isn’t about what I write, it’s about what they write. That’s why we’re here: to get you to writing. So don’t just read the prompt, read the comments. Look at the genius that flashes by in the comment section.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “look! look!”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

4 thoughts on “Look! Look!”

  1. Our condo overlooks a busy state highway. It sits next to a river fork which eventually connects to Lake Michigan. Therefore we’re on a migratory flyway, very busy especially two seasons of the year. Trees abound along the fork. All that to say “Look! Look!” often initiates our conversations. It may invite the hearer to share the wonder as hundreds of robins wheel on to the scene in early Spring; It may alert one to take a very quick look at the egret passing by – fast at dusk, “Look! Look!” may follow sighting of a squirrel hustling along the branches of a tree in search of leaves for making her nest near the building thee. “Look! Look! ” for me is always a harbinger to delight and absorption of fleeting beauty.

  2. “Look, look at that!” “Let’s make believe!” She drove her mother crazy. She seemed to constantly be in a state of excitement over something or other. When she played with her younger brother it always was a case of, “let’s make believe.” There would be bed sheets used as tents crossing as roofs from one living room easy chair to the other. The children would then crawl around under the sheets pretending they were Indians or camping out. There would be other times her daughter and she would be downtown shopping. “Look, look at that!” her daughter shouted. She loved going into the old market where there was sawdust on the creaking, bleached wooden floor and live chickens kept for slaughter. Fortunately, she wasn’t aware they were going to be killed to provide food. “Look, look at that!” Her daughter loved going to the town square along the Hudson River downtown. There always was something exciting to draw her attention: a boat bobbing on the Hudson, the ferry that crossed over to the Palisades, and all sorts of men fishing from the piers. Her daughter had a huge passion for life. She envied her and wished she still had it. However, life had beaten her down and her excitement for life as well.

  3. I live in a bird-watchers paradise .
    Everyday some new species of bird is spotted on the window rails, on the porch pecking last nights insects, hopping around in the car park .
    One day it is Eurasian pied starling , another day it is the white wagtail . The kids are quite used to my “look, look” , as I stare out of the balcony , at my usual lookout place for the school bus. The kids’ are in a hurried frenzy , combing hair , tightening shoe-laces , and I force them to look at a sunbird in the pomegranate bush , or a Montague’s Harrier circling overhead .
    They are unimpressed . I may have been gifted a Salim Ali book by an indulgent spouse , but they have more pressing things to do , like rubbing a white stain of still warm milk down a white shirt front , while cribbing about being force fed.
    Or last minute cramming the details of The Boston Tea Party and its effect on American Politics.
    They have no time to stare up a silver oak and marvel at the weavers birds’ nest full of gaping holes and wonder how the eggs remain secure ? It is more remarkable given the tiny size of the bird that weaves these marvels.
    By the way , there is a water hen quietly making its way away from the lantana bush . Did you see ? “Look, look, right there.”

  4. As an artist I ask myself, What thoughts, and emotions speak when I am enclosed in the awesome space of the Fall foliage. To find the key to absorb the affects of color into my very being I need to look, really look to internalize. Then I can put it on canvas. All to often people will say look,look…and see nothing.

An open space for your story

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s