It’s a strange, twisting journey sometimes, whether writing a book or living one’s life. We’ve all experienced the road that seemingly ends, only to reveal a new path to somewhere unexplored, the detour that turned out to be the correct way after all. As I’m in the middle of plotting a particularly complicated Blaze at the moment, — you know when you throw in a mystery plot without quite knowing how it all works out? – I’m discovering the joys and frustrations of the road that ends, the detour that takes me off the road I thought I was traveling and the pain of banging the head against a blank computer screen.
I think this way of seeing obstacles as hidden opportunities really came home to me yesterday as I was on a day hiking trip. We’d had one of those, What Else Can Go Wrong? mornings and finally broached the trailhead up the last mountain road only to find the road blocked off. The reason? A toad migration! These tiny, one inch long, babies had to hop across the road as part of their journey – there were hundreds hopping across at one time – and were being squished by the thousands until a band of volunteers got together to help. For two weeks every year now, they block off the road and help the little guys on their way. There were kids and older folk all with ice cream pails picking up the toads that were heading for disaster and helping them cross the road. Naturally, we amused ourselves with Why Did The Toad Cross the Road jokes (all too lame to share). We took the alternate, non toad-killing route, hiked about three hours up a mountain and near the top, here were some of the toads who had made it.
Perhaps this isn’t the sexiest topic for a Blaze post, and believe me if I could find a photo of Hugh or Matthew posing with a small, humble toad, I would post it. Sadly, I could not find one. This is a photo my friend Kelly took yesterday on our route. I do think, though, that the connection between the toad experience and writing is significant. It’s the twists and turns, the unexpected surprise, the road less traveled, where the fun of life and writing is.
Until next time,
Happy reading,
Nancy
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LOL Nancy — it may not be sexy, but I love your topic. I think it’s great when communities make an effort to show kindness and consideration to small creatures.
OTOH, if you ever want a good laugh (and maybe this is also a metaphor for writing) there’s a documentary about kane toads in Australia, I can’t remember the name of it, but it’s so hysterical. Apparently Australia brought in the kane toads to fight off some other invasive creature (I saw this something like 6 years ago, so the memory is foggy on the details), and the toads took over, since they don’t have a natural predator but for humans. These things are *everywhere* (though I don’t know if they’ve done anything about it at this point).
The best part of the documentary was this one guy who HATED the toads (I think they blinded his dog or something — they can shoot out a poisonous goo when attacked), but all through the documentary they keep going back to his mission against the toads, and contrary to your story, there is this shot of the guy in his pick-up, winding down this lonely, foggy road, and all you hear is pop…pop…pop as he swerves all over the place trying to get them. I’m an animal lover, but it just had us laughing until we cried, mostly because this guy is just nuts.
Writing wise, sometimes I feel like the kane toad, for sure… though I’m not quite sure who’s driving the truck. LOL
Sam
People and toads . . . and possibly princes. But you’d have to kiss them to be sure.
I grew up in south GA and vividly remember having to sit un-patiently in the car waiting for a farmer to move his cows from one pasture to another pasture across the road. But I can honestly say I have never had to make a detour due to toad migration. (LOL) Love the post!
Hey, Sam, we were talking about the Kane toads, too. I guess they are a bit of a problem in Australia. We had a French woman with us and she teasingly asked one of the guys with a bucket full of toads how much they were a pound.
Heather, I thought about kissing a few, just to see, but from the size they were I’m guessing I’d get a pint-sized prince at best.
Sherry, where I live we also have Canada geese who have a habit of wandering across a busy road. It’s fun to see the motorists patiently waiting while mom and baby geese take their sweet time crossing.
I swear something unstuck in my plot, though, when I got home. You never can tell what will help fill that well.