Hey, welcome back to Worldbuilding Wednesday! It’s another short one, which has become a habit. I’ll work on it, I promise.
This past week has been busy with life, work and getting my newest book (a new Muirin novel! Yay!) ready for publication. It should be out Friday or Saturday, FYI.
So what’s today’s quick focus?
Spring. Because spring has sprung around me in the Puget Sound. From the tulips blooming and lilacs making my allergies flare up to the very loud bird that woke me up this morning by singing outside of my window. I honestly thought that it was my alarm going off (which does not in the slightest sound like bird song, FYI).
It got me thinking as I drove to work this morning. The sounds of spring in the Puget Sound are complete different from the ones when I was growing up in Montana.
The first sign of spring where I am now is frogs croaking in the evening. Way before you’d think frogs would be out, when evening comes with dimming skies and cooling temperatures, there’s a chorus of frogs outside my window. In the morning I wake up to bird song, loud and strident as they call for mates and defend their territory. The heavy rains of winter switch into lighter showers and every morning I can tell what sort of day I’m going to need to dress for by the sound of the rain or wind or neither outside.
At the same time in Montana when I was growing up the sound of spring was snow sliding off the roof in a great whooshing fwump as it started to melt. Icicles cracking and falling to shatter on the deck. Water dripping, dripping, dripping everywhere as the snow goes from fluffy to hard crust and then into slumping drifts coated with grey dust as the snowflakes release their hidden dusty cores.
Instead of tulips and daffodils pushing up through warm, brown earth, in Montana it was crocuses pushing through snow in tiny little patches of life that seemed like it would freeze to death as soon as night fell. There were no birds singing yet, not like in the Puget Sound. The chickadees are always there, fierce little balls of brown feathers that handled whatever winter threw at them. But no robins or jays or anything else.
So here’s your question for the day?
Your character wakes up. Its early spring. What do they hear? Is it birds or dripping water? If they’re in a desert environment they’ll hear something else entirely. A city? People’s patterns of movement, of waking, change as the warmth of the sun returns to the world.
What do they see as they get up? Snow? Flowers? Dust storms or garbage trucks or the neighbor weeding their front yard in entirely too short of shorts with hair poking out in every direction?
Think about it. Add sensory details to your story. Let your reader smell the growing plants, hear the birds and curse at them for waking them up too early in the morning. Have them smile and shake their head in dismay at the neighbor across the street while making coffee. Or tea. Or whatever it is that people in your story, your world, consume to wake up in the morning.
Good luck with your writing and have a great week, everyone!
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