Running: deep dive observations by Nicky Wilkinson

Running: deep dive observations

I’m always looking for new ideas to improve my writing and one came from a friend who had attended a ‘deep observation’ writing workshop. Apparently, the advice ranged from: noticing tone of voice/body language; slowing down; zooming in; and capturing all five senses to create 3-D. 

I run in the foothills of the Peak District, where in changing seasons I pass people as a sushi conveyor of different colours and stories. Since my run-time is sufficiently sedentary, I thought I’d try out my first ‘workshop’ in Porter Brook Valley. My destination was a tree, remembered from the last misty autumn morning I had run. Back then, the golden glory of this tree had pierced the musky air, while rust-like leaves lay scattered and well-trodden below. Now in spring, the tree loomed as a dark skeleton, only tiny nodules pointing to the summer canopy to come. It reminded me that Zechariah advises not to despise small beginnings* and that’s where I am. 

Pacing through the park, my ears attuned to the brook and the calling of birdsong overhead, my feet kept time to my rising breath. The air, tinged with vernal notes of wild garlic, provided the backdrop to an evolving stage-set of people: duvet-coated amblers, phones affixed; a woman bikini-topped in a mere 6 degrees (!); men, zipped and hooded, rushed past, shiny hairless heads glistening; the dog walkers: a committed and determined cohort exacting orders. (One called out ‘Neville!’ towards a particularly distracted group of cocker poos. I have no words to adequately describe the shrillness of this Yorkshire command, nor the incongruity of this name belonging to a mere pooch.)

Forest fading now, I flopped onto a bench, FitbitTM buzzing and calculating. Behind each person lay a story. Their clothes and accoutrements had offered glimpses of choices and lives, with ‘my’ tree dominating the centre of the set, where people passed by like photographic flickers.

To my mind, that tree represented God: constant in changing seasons. 

Our efforts to write well (and hopefully even better) begin hesitantly as we try to take on board the advice we are given. He knows all our beginnings and ends, rejoicing to see us with plumb lines in our hands refining what we write. Let us seek Him for the courage we need at the outset! 

* “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand” (Zechariah 4:10, New Living Translation.  

Nicola Wilkinson lives in Sheffield. She has recently become a writer and is part of the Sheffield Scribblers. She lived abroad in the Czech Republic and Zimbabwe for 25 years. She worked for FEBA Radio in Zimbabwe, and taught History at Chisipite Senior School in Harare. She has been the Administrator for ACW for 3yrs. And an adoring granny to four grandkids for 4yrs.