I have taken a lot of pictures from this spot in Glen Ferris West Virginia. It’s not really an island but the Kanawha River makes it look like one. In my imagination the mountain becomes the mythical Avalon. Perhaps if I wandered down into water’s edge I would notice the glint of steel beneath the surface. I reach down to lift the magnificent blade from the murky water. The hilt is exquisite. The sword feels like an extension of my body. I look up to her. Dressed all in white and standing on the other side of the lake. She doesn’t speak. She simply acknowledges the fact that she knows I’ve seen her and she begins to ascend up path into forest. She doesn’t bid me to follow, she dares me to. As I ponder the choice a boat glides silently to my side. The bearded old man in the stern gestures for me to take my place in the bow. I climbed and took a long look back at real world as it faded away into the mists. Perhaps there’s time to slay one last dragon before dinner. Perhaps … just maybe, the real secret to eternal youth is to never pass on a chance to dream.
Category: Fiction Story
Soar
The shadow sweeps silently across the landscape and the forest freezes. The songbirds have stopped singing and the squirrels hug the trees tightly as they try their best to look like a piece of bark. Only the humans seem oblivious to the predator soaring in the sky above. He is a master of the sky. He flies higher and faster than anything living in the area. The wind speaks his name. It’s an ancestral call that he cannot resist. He dives from his perch in the tallest tree and skims the Treetops as he answers. His heart throbs with excitement as he reaches his speed and meets the wind. As he pulls upward into the flow his wings beat the air into submission with a wild thunder. Gravity fails to bind him as he achieves the apex and locks his wings. It’s time to soar. As he dances with the breeze something stirs deep within his core being. It is the quickening in his spirit. He is at one with the phoenix, aileron and the roc. He is king of the sky.
Childhood Flashbacks
I think that we all see things from the perspective of the inner child. The image above is the side entrance of the Nicholas County Courthouse. Even though I have really good friends who work there I always feel a little intimidated walking into the building.
I start to have flashbacks of slowly strolling down the hallway towards the principal’s office. (Headmaster in other cultures). Now, I wasn’t really in trouble a lot in school. I swear it was someone else that was shooting wads of paper through a drinking straw. Or, placing small woodland creatures in the teacher’s desk drawer. And I have no idea how wild leeks (known locally as ramps) got into the heating system of small classroom. (Looks away acting innocent). However, I always found myself trying to explain these things to an authority figure at the end of a long narrow hall. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I can hear the funeral march playing in my head. As I approach the office the door creaks open. The secretary looks at me empathetically and offers a blindfold. The door closes behind me. Surly the end is near. Okay, maybe that’s just a little melodramatic. But isn’t it odd how certain places bring up old feelings?
We think of ourselves as full grown adults but at heart we’re all still children. Children that are full of wonder and daydreams. And yes, sometimes a little irrational fear.
( The truth is I’ve never had a bad experience with anyone in this building. They’ve always been kind and helpful. )
Cardinal Flowers and a new myth
The Cardinal Flower is a common sight in Eastern North America. It’s an important resource for hummingbirds and it’s used Native American herbal medicine. (It is considered toxic to humans!) If you want to read more about the scientific information on Cardnial Flower you can click HERE. But, if you’re interested in the new myth then read on.
A very long time ago two tribes lived in the Appalachian mountains. They were separated by a large river. One tribe farmed and fished the Northern bank and the other made their living on the Southern side. They would occasionally trade by meeting in center of the flat water in dugout canoes. Until one winter day when a disagreement arose over a bad trade. From that point on the tribes would be enemies. The Northern chieftain had a young son who was a fearless warrior. He excelled in every challenge. When his father fell ill the tribe’s shaman sent him on a mission to gather fungus from the birch trees which was on the other side of the river. While gathering the fungus he stumbled upon a young maiden bathing in a side stream of the river. His heart skipped a beat and it was love at first sight. He was so struck by her beauty that he forgot where he was and stepped on a twig snapping it. The sound alerted her his presence and she gasped loudly when she realized she wasn’t alone. Their eyes met his love was returned. They were so lost in each other’s gaze that they didn’t notice the other warriors responding to her gasp until an arrow found it’s mark deep inside the young man’s chest. He stumbled towards her and died on the edge of the water. In her heartbreak, the maiden fainted in the middle of the stream and drowned. The warriors in both tribes were in shock. As they looked at the scene that had just played out a single red flower sprung up from the blood that was spilled on the water’s edge. To their amazement, a small bird with a ruby red throat rose from spot where the maiden fell. The bird flew over and began to kiss the flower and to this day when a hummingbird kisses a Cardnial Flower it’s a reminder that even death cannot stop true love.
Destination Uknown (part 5)
This post is part of a writing challenge by Bertek D, Penumbra. It’s a bit of a departure from my normal post. The idea is to pick up from where a previous author left off and write a segment of your own that ends in a cliffhanger. I have taken the liberty of mixing in qualitiesof a character that I am developing for a separate project but I think it works well.
Please visit the other authors for the full story.
There was so much spinning in my head. If I told Ann about my sister’s abilities she would eventually figure out our true bloodlines. The family would not be pleased and I was already in hot water over the incident with Sylvia. Something had to be done to snap Agatha out her current mental state. I told Ann to please wait while I checked on my sister. As I climbed the spiral staircase I ran my hand along the carvings on the rail. The symbols were like Braille. To an outsider the symbols were just strange art but in my family it was a secret message. It was the combination to a lock. I topped the staircase and proceeded down the hall to the third door on the right. The spare room was used for storage. The stacked boxes were crowded in with just enough room left to pass along the wall. They were full of the trinkets and more mundane items my family had collected over the centuries. The musty smell of the boxes filled my nostrils as I slid along the wall. Finally, I came to open space in the back. An antique mirror hung on the wall. The dark wooden frame held symbols that match the carvings on the rail. I had to activate them in the right order or a booby trap would solve my problems permanently. I took a deep breath and entered the combination. As I touched the last symbol they all lit up in sequence and the glass became liquid. I stepped through the mirror and into the secret library that held my family’s real inheritance. If there was a cure for Agatha’s condition it would be found here in the other world.
I Pulled my antique Zippo from my pocket and lit the wick. In the soft yellow glow of the flame I could see rows and rows of books. I was looking for the lever that activated the gas lights when something moved in the shadows. Nobody else should even know about this room much less be creeping around in the dark. My grandfather’s sword hung in display near the secret door. For the first time in almost a century it’s rest would be disturbed.
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