There’s no place on Earth like Appalachia (the same could be said of any place) and here is the greatest stretch of hardwood forest in the World along with endless mountains. Not the tallest, but some of the longest continuous mountain ridges. From my hilltop field is a view of Jack’s Mountain, it appears as a peak; (Its southern most terminus) but runs on in a north easterly path 45mi hence, one continuous mountain ridge. Blue Mountain and Kittatinny are even longer, and lived my life, more or less, always within sight of these here mountains. Walked them, skied them, slept in them.
There are things out there.
Jimmy was a seer (because we’re hillbillys doesn’t mean there isn’t a higher order) and was capable of quite extraordinary things. You’ll have to admit you know someone like that. Always a curiosity, sometimes beyond reasonable expectation. Just different, not in an oddball way (that was me) but more like strange and unusual…
Being travelling companions since early life, anytime Jimmy was in attendance meant an encounter with the strange and unusual.
While we were playing cards once, the deck was spread face down on the table in random order, “pick up the King of hearts”, and it was done, first try, with five consecutive cards without a miss, an impossible feat.
Jimmy turned out to be multi-lingual, though where he had acquired the skill remains a mystery when we were rarely separated from elementary school into adulthood.
When just the two of us, we always went to the occult, not as seekers, not in search of mentors, but as challenger’s adept at bringing portent into the realm of reality; unafraid of forces of darkness since combined our egos were unassailable.
Hallucinogens were simply a portal by which we could enter the psychic realms, and if by luck you were to encounter us, you would be privileged with a visit from the Spirit of Christmas Present.
There was a light there so blazing, no amount of life in the Cosmos could long fuel such a burning ember. Jimmy simply defied physics. And when he left, his whole family went with him, their legs failing and appearing to sink into the very earth.
If the two of us were here now, we would tell you not to look too deeply into these outrageous lies…while proceeding with our spell over you, for “where two or more are gathered…”
Now, a frog is not a toad, and a toad is not a frog. Little tree frogs and toads can get along just fine, but when the big frogs move in everybody else goes the way of the food chain. The constant drone of the night peepers is replaced by the trumpeting sounds of the bullfrog, once proliferate enough to warrant harvesting as a delicacy. Going gigging meant bringing in some tasty frog legs, while today it means heading to the local open mic. How times change.
Frogs are seer’s and portend, their croaks tell the stories and speak the names. Listen closely and you can see as well…it takes a seer to see one.
A brother (a seer) will tell you dogs lie and exaggerate shamelessly, and as it turns out he’s right; but only among their fellow dogs…never with us.
Really enjoy the magical and nature aspects of your writing. I never know where you're going to go and the surprise keeps me engaged. Plus it warms my heart to see your dog.
You said you don't know the Talking Heads, and their song "Once in a Lifetime" is also surprising and magical in its own way -- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IsSpAOD6K8 (another 80s hit if you're still interested)
Relaxing and amusing read