The Distance of Time

Here are today’s Wonderful Words:

She watched her father as he spoke, watched him stare off into the distance not of sky, but of time, as though searching for the memory of something or someone he had long ago left behind.

The Bear, Andrew Krivak, page 65

Background

The Bear is a story of a father and daughter living as the last humans in the world. They live off the land at the base of a mountain, in perfect harmony with nature. In this sentence, the father was reflecting on an adventure he’d taken with the girl’s mother who had since passed away.

What makes it wonderful?

If you’ve ever lost someone you loved, you can immediately feel this sentence. We’ve all sat quietly in solitude, staring into the distance as if trying to see a ship on the horizon. What we’re actually trying to do is stare into the past—into a moment we shared with a person who is no longer here. A person we loved deeply.

I often find myself staring into the distance thinking about my grandmother. She passed a few years back, but I always felt like she was the grandparent I was closest to.

Sometimes I’m remembering snuggling next to her on the couch as a child. Other times I’m thinking about the mornings we’d sit in her kitchen, each drinking a cup of her black tar coffee before anyone else was awake. Or maybe I’m smiling at the excitement I could hear in her voice every time I would call.

We had a special bond that calls for moments of quiet reflection. Moments of searching the horizon for hints of memories. Flashes of time spent together.

For me it was Grandma Wells. For you it might be a sibling, a parent, a childhood friend, or the soldier who served by your side.

Whoever it is, most of us can think of someone. We know exactly the person who comes to mind as we stare out at the ocean, the mountains, the city skyline.

It’s wonderful because it’s relatable.

Let's get technical

I’m not sure if there’s a specific technique at play here. At the very least, it’s elegant language.

You can’t literally stare into the distance of time. Our eyes don’t have that power. But when we’re thinking deeply into a memory, our eyes glaze over, and we reveal a blank stare. It looks like we’re staring into the distant sky.

And that’s what the author captured in this sentence. He perfectly portrayed the way an experience looks. We’ve seen someone do this. We’ve done it ourselves. When we read the sentence, we know exactly what he means. And that’s the power of crafting relatable writing.

The best way to be relatable is to be observant. When you find yourself in a familiar scenario, take note of what’s happening. What do you see? What do you feel? Can you translate that experience into words? That’s the power of a true writer—translating something we’ve all felt into something we can all read.

Happy writing,

Joe