Saturday, November 27, 2010

Thin As A Dime

The walls are thin between worlds.

Sounds and odors emanate from invisible places. Good and bad vie for preeminance.

Dreams and wakefulness coalesce.

Time and space change places, like twin rivers coarsing to a mysterious outlet.

I had a view of our ancestral castle above the river on the rise. As I hiked, I thought of those who had trod here in the past, who made today possible. There had been a lot of blood, tears, toil and sweat to get where we were.

The hills were green, though as it happened in Scotland, a cool morning as in I could see my breath.

I remembered my forebears for we are the sum of all our yesterdays. And as I did so, it was as if things spun in reverse. I'd forgotten about the solar eclipse, but was piquantly reminded as the sky darkened.

How it must have mystified some of my ancestors, maybe frightened some who had a thin faith.

The sky grew black and the wind seemed to swirl round me. i was in the middle of a vortex that appeared to swallow time and space.

I stood my ground and weathered the storm.

As I did, I realized it had become still. The light slowly returned. I look to and fro and much looked the same except for one thing. The castle on the high hill was not in ruins. It look fresher and I saw banners flying with my clans crest fluttering over the land.

Just as quickly I heard horse hooves and voices, along with hunting dogs wailing in pursuit of game.

I was knocked flat as a powerful horse came to a halt near me.

Looking up I saw a face so familiar from a portrait that hung at the castle and was in several booksw in my own library.

'Who are you that would trod these grounds?'

I gave my name.

His ears prickled as I said the middle for it was the clan name he bore.

'I am Henry St. Clair, master of this place. You must be a visiting cousin. Come let me help you up afore Help and Hold maul you.'

I heard the hounds approaching and remembered that indeed, Henry's dogs, gifts from Robert the Bruce, were called Help and Hold.

Henry called out for his men to restrain the hounds and he summoned one of his aides to see to me.

'Come, Michael, let me take you home.'


The above is an idea brewing and thought I'd share it as part of a larger story to be done in 2011.

7 comments:

teacher said...

To this I look forward.

kava said...

Perhaps a perfect way to partially celebrate your Dad's 100th.

Bobby T said...

Me too!

Committee 3 said...

Me three!

Mike H said...

I'll have an announcement at the beginning of the year re my stories. Don't woory. It's good!

henry said...

Sounds romantic......'woory' -s-.

Mike H said...

It is kind of.