Suddenly everything turned dark. Night surrounded them as the train kept rolling down the track. It made Henry uneasy, but as he looked around young Purrlin was still shoveling coal into the firebox and Simmi had now crawled up on his lap for comfort!
Purrlin’s voice seemed clear above the noise of the train. Don’t let the dark night bother you. It only lasts for a short time and soon you will see the light again.”
Henry looked out the window at the full moon peaking above the clouds. He knew as long as the train stayed on the tracks he would be fine. The train’s black smoke billowed back across the engine, and blended into the night sky!
The dark got even darker as the train charged into the mountain tunnel.
At the far end, Henry saw the morning light welcoming him.
Henry took and deep breath and looked into the green aura behind the burning red flame of the candle. Simmi rubbed around his ankles purring. His mind was a little fuzzy now, and seemed to be floating in another dimension. In the background he could hear Purrlin’s calm voice.
“Let your self go boy. Your dream is waiting to be fulfilled!”
Everything faded in a blanket of fog. The green aura of the candle became the green fields on both sides of him as he found himself in the engineer’s seat of a puffing locomotive. Across from him was a young man who looked very much like Purrlin. And there was Simmi the cat curled up at his feet.
Amazing, thought Henry to himself, as he reached up and pulled the rope that brought a shrill whistle piercing the clear mountain air.
Today we took our first excursion since before Covid 19 started. We met with our old friends at Lake Norman NC. It was a wonderful day of connection. The house where they were staying this week was surrounded by beautiful Azaleas and Dogwoods in full bloom. It was a gorgeous time to be there. I am pausing my story chapters to share some of the beautiful flowers with you. Hope you enjoy them as much as we did.
Do you recognize this bridge? A few years ago while I was working at the Habitat Restore, we got an old wooden desk donated. While cleaning it up for resale, I found the small 3 x 3 black and white photo above in one of the drawers. It appeared to be an old post WWII era photo of a bridge, and on the back it said Savan River Bridge. I was intrigued by the picture and did some research, but came up with nothing with that name.
I though it looked like a bridge that could have been in Paris so I started looking at bridge images on line and found that it is the Ponte Alexander iii bridge. It was named in honor of a Russian Czar. You can read about it at this web site: Pont Alexandre III – Wikipedia
I decided to paint the bridge and this is how it came out: It is 3′ x 4′
When my grandchildren outgrew their toybox a few years ago, I decided to use it as a compost bin. I put it below my garden at the edge of the tree line. It gets filled with all my trimmings, grass clippings, household garbage, and any other natural vegetation. I fill it a few times over the year. Each time it rots and composts down. All that garbage condensed into a half of a bin full of rich compost.
Today, when I dug into it, it was well rotted and full of tiny earth worms. I put part of it on my grape vines and saved the rest for my tomatoes I am going to plant. Black Gold, wonderful stuff to build good rich soil.
Today at d’Verse, Grace asked us to write a poem personifying a body part. I chose to write about my hand that seems to be developing carpal tunnel syndrome. My fingers get numb and sometimes I wake up in the night with my hand feeling like it is on fire. I have cut back on my typing, switched to my left hand for the mouse, got a wrist brace, and do some exercises to stretch out the tendons. It is much better that it was a couple of months ago.
Today I am trying the Shadorma form for my poetry for the first time. I hope I got it right!
While resetting my stepping stones, I stopped to take a rest on my chair along the creek. Across the way the sparrows were coming back and forth to the birdhouse with pieces of material to build a nest in the box. I noticed a feather lying in the leaves on the ground on the other side. About that time, I saw the male sparrow fly down and pick it up in its beak. He flew to the birdhouse and proceeded to drag it into the nest. He got two-thirds in the hole, but could not get the rest into the nest. Next thing I knew he pushed it back out and left it float back to the ground.
I went over and picked up the feather and found that it was a hawk feather. The hawks come and visit the gas-line clearing from time to time. It is a beautiful specimen as you can see. I thought it was interesting to see the fuzzy down at the base of the shaft. That is most likely the way they stay warm and insulated in cold weather. I decided to save it for my collection of odds and ends!
Washing a shiny bald head with only traces of down
A slick global arc that would make a women turn away
Happily these hairless days are short lived
But memory now fades, of those obnoxious hair grease jingles
Rattling in my brain out of tune
Today at d’Verse, Lisa asked us to write an Opposites Poem, where we take a poem and write the opposite of it! I chose to do one of my own poems, that I called Hair Daze. The original poem is shown below.
Today at d’Verse Linda asked us to write a Quadrille of exactly 44 words celebrating the fruit of the vine, Wine! On our 50th Anniversary trip in 2019 we were treated to a complimentary bottle of Champagne. that we found in our room when we returned from our morning excursion in Cologne.