I wake up with the first line or two of a prose piece – springing from a childhood memory of having a tooth pulled. Before I go out for my walk I capture what I have so far while it's fresh. Fear of being pricked by a sharp needle is a feature of this memory. Outdoors, it's a raw day - temperature in the 30's and a cloud-heavy sky. My thoughts are buzzing with creative activity, but my eyes are not drawn to much of anything in this November drab landscape for a picture.

But here, near the swamp on the side of the trail, a few blue berries - their needle like thorn pointing straight at me.

All text and photos copyright Kelly DuMar 2017