Our ancestors were hunters & gatherers, and so am I. I collect stones. They take
zero maintenance, and my garden is better because of them. (Says a lot about my green thumb.)
As a writer, I also
collect words. During the last day or so, three words that I’d love to use, stayed
with me and I’m going to share them.
First there’s petrichor. Outside it’s raining cats and
dogs. I keep my window open and inhale. Ah there’s nothing quite like petrichor…especially
in the fall when it’s mixed with the smell of decaying leaves and the sound of
migrating birds.
I was delighted to discover that the
word petrichor—the smell of rain—comes from the Greek word petra…meaning stone
and chor…which refers to the fluid in the veins of gods.
Then there’s the word pernickety. All
those consonants! They prickle like the word’s meaning. The word jumped out at
me while reading a translations of Goebbel’s 1940 diaries. Another word he used that I’d like to find a perfect spot
for, is the word brouhaha. Again, an example of onomatopoeia.
Words are like stones. They can be
used to build or to destroy and they have stories within them. A writer’s
tools.
The Nazis carefully manipulated the German
people with their propaganda.
We call it fake news. A bunch of words. A lot of power.
Okay, now let me try
to use these three delicious words in one thought. Petrichor drifts in through
the open window, alongside the brouhaha of squabbling blue jays, while I
attempt to text on my pernickety smartphone.
