Reawakening the Senses

Even though it’s officially spring, my area looks dull, drab and dreary. The grass is brown. Leafless brown trees line my neighborhood like wooden pitchforks standing sentinel over brown, wooden fences. Occasionally the brownness is broken up by a splash of color from a freshly washed car.
 

During this endless winter of sensory deprivation, my senses froze. Ice cubes. They are now beginning to melt, but haven’t fully thawed. This has affected my writing. I feel that my descriptions of characters and settings have become as interesting as, well, a pile of grimy snow.

Time to take charge and kick all my senses into high gear!

I began with hearing. I had become so used to everyday winter background noises (snow plows and shovels) that I tuned everything out. To counteract this, I sat in a quiet place, closed my eyes, and just listened. I heard the rumble of a truck, the neighbor’s Sheltie bark while on his morning constitutional, and a cardinal sing. Then I covered my ears and listened to my heart swish as I breathed slowly in and out.

Next, I worked with my sight. I take it for granted and should know better since I lost sight in one eye and went color blind for a year due to an illness. To renew this sense, I spent time watching my husband's colorful fish and corals in their salt water aquariums. Blue, magenta, green, orange--a rainbow of living colors.

Because the heat in the house is constantly running, my nose is stuffy and my sense of smell is off. I sniffed a tangy orange then graduated to stronger scents of cinnamon and clove. I finished with pepper which made me sneeze.

 

This winter I wore gloves inside the house since my hands were cold and sometimes numb. To stimulate touch, I took off my gloves, warmed my hands using a jasmine scented heat pack, and touched. The carpet felt nubby, a silk skirt slick, and a blanket soft.

My taste has decreased, too. Even chocolate doesn’t taste as luscious. (Gasp) With a big box by my side, I continue to eat one at a time being mindful of the taste. (It's for the greater good. Really.)

What about the sixth sense of intuition? Mine was strong, but has weakened over this endless winter. I’m not sure how to reinvigorate it. Perhaps by being mindful and paying attention, that sense will expand as well.

Hopefully, when my senses finally reawaken, my written description of characters’ worlds will be reenergized. I want to transport a reader to a character’s world using descriptions that stimulate all the senses--to immerse themselves in a warm sauna of words that flow from the page.

Don’t all writers want that? To create living, breathing worlds that are as real and sensual as our own (at least in any season but winter)?

Do the seasons, or lack of them depending on where you live, affect your writing?