By The purpose of this prompt was to make the setting the main focus. I wanted people to write something that if they moved the story out of this particular setting, the story wouldn’t work. I could not have written this story at sea level or on the Great Plains. As a writer I tend to focus more on character development and a lot of my stories can happen anywhere and to make my writing stronger, I need to change that.
How do you write setting? Let me know in the comments.
I can’t pull enough air into my lungs. The thin mountain air is being uncooperative at this altitude. Good thing the view so far has been worth it so far. From my vantage point half way to the way to the summit, I stop and watch the rainstorm roll in through the verdant valley below me. The bare peaks and jutting vermillion rock formations that had been visible a couple hours before are now only vague outlines in the mist.
Birds twitter around me, even this late in the day. The weather should be cool but when a ray of the sun slips through the clouds it’s hotter that it would be at a lower elevation due to the thin air. Turning away from the view and back to the trail I take a deep breath. The pine scented air opening my lungs, helping me take in the dry air.
Just put one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, one switch back at a time. Fuck, the switch backs never end, climbing back and forth, back and forth. Stopping at a sharp turn to pull in another deep breath. Crawling over a dead fall, hoping for that second wind soon. How do the birds fly in this thin air? The trees open up and there before me is a field of wild flowers: yellow, blue, white; they bloom so much later this high up. There’s the fireweed, awakened by forest fires, magenta blooms opening slowly over the course of the summer and into the fall. When the last ones open at the tip of the stalk, it heralds the first snow fall.
The summit, gasping, I take those last few steps to the overlook, hands on my hips, opening my lungs. A weak laugh escapes me, the view, that one I hiked and huffed and puffed up here for has vanished. The storm rolled through blocking it all. The overlook is framed by creaking evergreens but the picture is a sea of swirling gray mist. Good thing I enjoy the journey as much as the destination.
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McGee Travel Tales 