Tag: short stories

The Sacrifice Of A Friend

Color Photography, Fiction Story

I have a fondness for the Corvus family. Today the crow and raven are associated with darkness and death but I want to share a different perspective.

The Leni Lenape tell the story of the Rainbow Crow. I have not been told the story from any tribal elders etc. In fact, I only learned the legend with the invention of the internet. So with no further ado here is story as I understand it…

The sun seem to sleep a lot over the past few years. The days were dim and short and the night was long, cold and dark. As the chieftain walked through the village the sadness of his people rested on his spirit like a heavy stone. He had tried everything. All of wisdom of his grandfathers, all of the prayers in his lodge and long lonely nights in forest seeking a vision that would tell him what to do. He couldn’t even sit at the council for the crying of the hungry children. He paused for a moment beneath a large spruce tree and began to sob. Then, he heard a rustling is the branches above. It was his friend the crow of many colors that had come to check on him. The crow was magnificent with feathers that shimmered with every hue in the rainbow. He loved the people and he loved the chieftain. The crow tried his best to cheer up his friend by singing in his most beautiful voice. It had always worked in past. The chieftain would smile and forget his troubles for little while. But tonight’s sadness the worst it had ever been. Moving down to a lower branch the crow opened his mouth and once more that beautiful melodic voice came out. “I have never not been able to make you smile my friend. What troubles your soul and how can I be a friend for you?” The chieftain took a breath and began to unload his burdens. He told the rainbow crow of the hungry children and the sickness of the old ones. “If the cold does not end soon my people will fade away forever. ” spoke the chieftain.

The rainbow crow knew in his heart what must be done. He would undertake a journey to the council of the creator and plead on behalf of the people. The journey was long and dangerous. The rainbow crow flew nonstop for many days and nights. When he found the creator he begged for him to end the winter and save the people he loved. The creator agreed and as a token gesture he gave a burning branch to the crow and instructed him to give fire to the people so that they could be warm again. The rainbow crow took the fire in his beak and made the long trip back to the chieftain and his people. He found the chieftain still sulking under the large tree. As he landed, the rainbow crow laid the fire at the chieftain’s feet. In his excitement at finding a way to save the people he tried to speak but the smoke from the fire had destroyed the crow’s beautiful voice and his magnificent feathers were singed black forever.

The chieftain was able to save the people he served as a result of rainbow crow and his sacrifice. So, always after the people would leave food out for the crow and he was always welcomed in the village.

The Silent Road Part 3. The Maiden

black and white photography, short stories

I walked down the silent road with only a plume of dust to mark my passage. The gray world around me seemed so empty and lost. Nothing seemed to move now. No insects in the grass and only the giant raven in the sky. He circled around as he lead me back to the beginning of the road. When I came to the head of the road I looked around. The birds sat still in the trees. If it had not been for the occasional flash of feathers as they shifted position I would have been convinced that a flock of stuffed birds had been placed on the edge of the dark forest surrounding this strange highway in the dreamworld. The raven lighted in a majestic but ancient and gnarled tree. His red eyes flashed at me and he nodded to a dimly lit path in the wood. I understood that he could guide me no farther in this quest. Will a bit of angst I stepped inside the woods and looking towards the place where the light fell away I saw her. Dressed all in white and crying as she sat on a fallen log. At her feet lay a broken dulcimer. And then I knew the answer. She was the voice of this world. And without the dulcimer that voice was gone. The birds could not wake the morning sun and the clouds ruled the day. Silence is not always golden. As she wept quietly I approached her with cautious anticipation. When she noticed me standing on the edge of the path she wasn’t startled. She looked up at me in desperation and gestured to the shattered remains of her joy lying in pieces. I opened my mouth to speak words of comfort but no sound came from my throat. She took me by the hand and pulled me to a large stone in forest. We cleared away centuries of moss and there carved into the granite more strange symbols. I studied them for a moment and realized that I knew the meaning.

To be continued

The Road Ends In Silence

black and white photography, poetry, Thoughts and Musing

I dreamt about a world of steel and concrete.

A world where the pace was hectic and one dare not stumble for fear of the crowd.

As I walked along in time with the daily march into chaos there was a gate unguarded.

I took the chance and walked through the threshold as the outside world vanished behind me.

No more hustle and bustle.

Steel and Glass gave way to open sky. Leaving only the wind.

Pavement crumbles away into earth.

Echoes fade into oblivion as I walked at different pace.

This road ends in silence.

Cardinal Flowers and a new myth

Color Photography, Fiction Story

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.

The Blue Night

Color Photography, West Virginia

I look out over the Kanawha River in the evening as old Sol closes his sleepy eyes. The softening light melts into a deep blue leaving an icy chill in it’s wake. The blue night has arrived. Small flickering lights beckon the people of the city to come home for a warm fire and a good meal. The river holds a garden of gnarly empty branches as if a mirror world lies just below the surface. I take one last look at the silhouette of mirror world and begin my own journey home with only the blue night and flickering lights to guide me.

Image was taken in Kanawha County of the Kanawha River and overlooking Kanawha City.