Mourning Water

Here is a story I wrote last year for my literature class.  The assignment was all about settings and bringing the reader into the scenes.  Enjoy! 

CooOOoo-woo-woooo. . .   The elegiac call of the dove penetrated the still silence.  A bitter gray mist clouded all vision as if a shroud was cloaking the still silent air.  The water, a dark and ominous color, lay morbidly still.  A shadowy forest loomed overhead, and the undergrowth was tangled and thorny.  Branches barely visible were groping though the murk, reaching out their decrepit gnarled fingers.  Wet haze wrapped around the figure, chilling him through to the bone.  He noticed the cold, sharp smell of damp morning air.  When breathing, the taste of forest and biting air inhaled ran harshly down his throat.  Vicious winds sprang-up piercing his face, keeping his ears, cheeks and nose numb.  Following the overgrown path to the waters edge, the traveler dipped his hand into the water.  Gelid liquid grasped the hand like it was trying hard to pull its trespasser farther down to the water’s bed.  Taking care not to slip on the moss-laden rocks and fall, he cautiously crossed to the far side of the cove; he stopped and looked around trying to get his bearings.  A camouflaged deer stared at him from inside a thicket.  Terrified, the deer ran off into the looming woods.  Taking from his pack the last hunk of dry bread, now green and molded, he hastily pitched the revolting, putrid crust.  Now starving, freezing and miserable there was nothing to do but to continue.  Rising, he walked blindly on, seeing objects just moments before impact. 

Suddenly a golden beam of hope, streamed through the fog, dissolving the haze before it.  In the in between moment where on one side, clear blue sky, the sun rising up in the east, a bright amber; the other side still cold and gray, murky vapor drifted farther away as the radiant sunlight chased it.  The water sparkled a moment with the newfound light in peaceful shades of blue and green, then transformed into a shimmering reflective mirror.  The stepping-stones resembled an emerald garland across the water.  A ray of sunbeams fell onto the roof of a small cottage.  A mouthwatering aroma of bacon, mushrooms and eggs, drifted out the chimney in the morning breeze.  The wanderer’s hunger vanished, with the sight of home.  Forgetting all fears and anxiety, the man walked briskly to the wooden fence surrounding the garden.  Effortlessly, he sailed over the gate.  Coming up to the front door, he called out to whomever was inside.  The door sprung opened with shouts of “He’s home, He’s home, Father’s home!”  Two children ran forward to meet a big bear hug.  A woman with a babe on her hip, stood at the steps, overjoyed to see her husband home.  She smiled at the little one’s ecstatic bursts of “What did you bring me?” and “We missed you.”  Glancing back, the man saw that what was once dark and dismal, now was happy and cheerful.  The enchanting trees rich in color and in might stood proud and calm.  Bushes were dressed with vibrant blooms.  Wildflowers that bordered the yard lifted their heads to the dawn.  A bird just waking to the morning light chirped a carefree tune. . . as if the night had never been and morning always would be.