Forgive my bragging a little, but one reason I enjoy reading Verlyn Klinkenborg’s editorials in the New York Times in a series called “The Country Life,” is that his take on life, his appreciation for growing things, and how he writes about it all is a lot like mine. I enjoyed the brief article “Hastening Slowly Through Fall,” published a couple of days ago. The title suggests the writer will dwell on one of the themes of Autumn, time. He knows the work he must do on the farm, yet feels the pull of the season, inviting him to simply sit and watch it. Here is a wonderfully written snippet from the article:
Every evening at dusk, five turkeys come down from the woods. They begin as substantial beings — still enough light for that — but soon become shadows, ghosting across the clover and rye, bringing a wildness with them.
I like how he turns a noun into a verb, ghosting, to describe the movement of turkeys, barely seen. I also like the almost poetic, “bringing a wildness with them.” If he’d said something like, “The turkeys run around and act wild in the field until it gets dark,” he would have communicated what happened, but not in a way the NYT would likely never publish.
I’d like to think my use and non-use of words is similar to his. I’d be happy to be able to write like this. I think I’m moving in that direction. I enjoy the rhythm and sound of words, arranging them to create a feeling or paint a picture as Klinkenborg does so effectively. That this essay is New York Times-able, gives me hope.
