old days

just watched a special on Windover, which is actually very close to here--in the 80's in the middle of a proposed development, artifacts were discovered especially in a pond that had apparently been in existence for thousands of years. the newly discovered (as if they had been lost) Native Americans were called the Windover Culture and it was discovered that they had used the pond as a burial/entombment site beginning 7-9000 years ago where they would stake out the bodies so they wouldn't float, place things that must have been important to them, and then over the years, the tannic acid would preserve unbelievable amounts of remains. The archaeologists were actually able to not only discover brain tissue but brain tissue that had useable DNA, as did teeth, bones, bone marrow, etc. This was a large burial site but so far the scientists have only discovered one young man that died as a result of violence--apparently he was hit with a thin spear---thrown with a carved stick or bone called an atlatl(or woomera in Australia) that would increase the velocity and distance of the spear-- the researchers were able to determine that this young man died a quick death and received the same burial as others---i wonder if they considered that perhaps the young man died accidentally---hmmm--anyway, other burials included a teenager with spina bifida, which would have left the young person with perhaps an open spine, but certainly paralyzed and in constant pain---the scientists said that this debunked the idea that all ancient peoples would either kill such a person at death or allow them to die---also there were bodies of folks in their mid-60's-perhaps later--again, common belief was that older members of the group were allowed to starve or just die at the mercy of nature----now the big controversy is that some scientists think the dna proves that these people came from Europe instead of Asia---now that would indeed be interesting---so again the one thing proved was that we never know as much as we think we do
peace
-will-

Autumn

been a while since i've found my way here--Samhain has passed again, cool weather even in Florida, which means 40's and 50's at night and 20 degrees or so warmer during the day--of course, it will be colder later but i feel for friends and family up north or norther (?)--i guess the years in Florida and places like Australia made my blood thinner---ahhh, life goes on--should be working on old truck or triumph and maybe, just maybe this week, i will find enough energy to do that--it's been way too long since i've roared down the road in or on either---the triumph--well, the megaphones in exhaust pipes i fear are either missing or purposedly destroyed--no, not by me---a kind constable in Australia--where your exhaust can be no louder than 100 db's at 2000 rpms checked it as part of a mandatory "safety" test---since i don't have a tach, he hooked up his own and as i watched the tach approach 2000, the db meter climbed well over 120 and was still climbing when he had me turn off the engine at about 1700 rpm--he had me start it again and then called my attention to something in the distance and before i could look back, he told me to kill the engine--expecting the inevitable, but he smiled, pronounced the dbs were exactly 97, i opened my mouth to say something and he shook my hand and said, "Welcome to Oz, Yank"--no, i didn't flinch, though i never got used to being called a "Yank" --but i managed to return the firm handshake as he said, "Nice bike, that's one thing the Brits knew how to do"--I thanked him, a smile-"No worries, mate"- I offered to buy him something to drink or lunch--he smiled, looked down, finger to side of nose, "Uhh, no mate, I've got (smile became bigger) some real inspections to make--careful riding--bikes don't do too well tangling with roo's or emus."
I like Aussies--if i had a "bucket list," it certainly would include going back to OZ, especially the outback in South Australia and Adelaide--a beautiful city that at least then liked Yanks.
We just shared a Veteran's Day with them, even though it was originally called Armistice Day, and came to be called Remembrance Day in Australia, New Zealand, and Tasmania.(WWI ended in 1918, "on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month"---though true to the way that war was conducted and the "peace accord" was signed, all the guns continued to blast away right up to that "eleventh hour" and in many instances past then).

peace (maybe someday we will find it)
-will-
peace

November WCM

Good job Shirley, Harry, et al that just put out the most recent WordCatalystMagazine-the November issue-i just have had a chance to skim parts of it but it looks as good as ever-i will read all of it later, in small doses to be able to appreciate it fully. i am glad that Shirley has allowed me to continue as a columnist, though i know i stretch the boundaries for length and what is allowable as a column. My "column"---"Just a PostCard"--another time, another place--just might be a short story or novella, whether it is fact or fiction---hmmm,ok the names are not anyone i know--the rest, nope, not tellin'
peace
-will-

Sundays

Late posting--got home late last night and had one of those nights-so today was mostly a "bed" day--but it was worth it--yesterday went to church--yeah, i did, first time in years-expected the ceiling to crack or a tsunami to hit -church building is only about 4-500 yards from beach--but all went well, saw people i hadn't seen for years and it actually felt good to go for service--actually, it was a dream for my Mom and other members on her side of my family for me to be a preacher--obviously got sidetracked--now, wait, that's not as strange an expectation as it sounds---my grgr grandfather was a Church of Christ preacher up well into his nineties(he also was in the Confederate calvary serving under Nathan Bedford Forest), my gggrandfather (his father-in-law) was a Church of Christ preacher for years , even before it was called Church of Christ--then it was the Christian Church--i had at least three other grandfathers that were Baptist preachers--so as i was being raised, our preacher and my family really pushed that-as did one of my favorite Sunday School teachers---my first and second grade teacher, same wonderful woman, also went to church with us. Then I was just too shy and stuttered too bad--well, it just didn't happen--but it felt good going to church Sunday, then we ate at a barbecue place and went to the beach--it had been months since i'd been there--so Sunday was a very good day for me and well worth the "paying for it" later---i need to find a way to get more energy, get past this fatigue, and who knows--maybe writing will start again--if you've read this so far, you know it hasn't kicked back in yet---still waiting for my muse-----i do have faith in her----more later
peace
-will-

Rivers

Time keeps flying by-almost to Samhain already-and the priestesses of the Moon that wear the symbol of the crescent-but like every other spiritual or religious thing-society finds a way to trivialize and commercialize it-"trick or treat"--right, monster movies, costumes and cash registers---

Thanksgiving is next, i guess, and everything but thanks is given--supposedly to celebrate the first feast where the Native Americans kept the Pilgrims from starving--thanks to the point that most of those tribes were extinct in the next few years, either through warfare or disease--

ok, i am in a bad mood today-so i am just going to close with words from "To the Morning"- a song by Dan Fogelburg from his "Home Free" album in 1972-i think his best album.

The sounds of the day
They hurry away
Now they are gone until tomorrow.
When day will break
And you will wake
And you will rake your hands
Across your eyes
And realize
That it's going to be a day
There is really no way to say no
To the morning.
Yes it's going to be a day
There is really nothing left to say but
Come on morning.

peace
-will-

echoes

trying to write last few days, actually longer but harder for last few days--just seem to get echoes, maybe an idea might surface but no words to carry it on or maybe some words that seem to go nowhere-looks like this will be first WordCatalystMagazine since i started writing with Shirley, Harry, and crew that i will not submit anything, well, except for column--not the way I want it to be but doesn't seem to be anything i can do about it--all sorts of excuses--could even claim that i am preoccupied with other things--but no, that wouldn't be true and if i can't be true with my writing, why even bother--so the ideas or words i've come up with just bounce back as echoes--not complaining--life goes on and that's just the way it is---now--and i am too damned stubborn to give up or i would have--a long time ago

peace
-will-

balmy

Today, just before sunset, i walked down to the river--to sit and watch like i often do--it was still in 80's, no breeze, very humid and, well, like Florida is often described like many other like places--balmy--i used to like to travel in the fall or winter to places such as Texas, DC, Tennessee, any place further north than here--so when i got off the plane at Orlando, the moist, warm air would hit me and i would feel home--well, as much as anywhere feels like home now. Today, as i got closer to the riverbank, the humidity increased and i could feel the damp saltspray and the smell, i love the smell of saltspray. i found one of my favorite seats on an old piece of landscape timber/railroad tie and lost myself there. as the sun sank lower, the clouds turned from white, to a light pink and as the sun dipped further, then a Maxfield Parrish sky, with the pink and orange glowing as if lit from behind (i was facing east, so the effect was even more pronounced)--i am not a big fan of pastels, as in Miami Vice, but when they appear as painted by Parrish, well, yes, it is beautiful. Then i noticed a small pod of 4 or 5 small dolphins--they were pretty far out in the river, which is at least a mile wide, so in the fading light it was hard to tell what kind of dolphins they were. Bottlenose are the most common, but if that's what these were, then they were juveniles, very small--but they looked darker--so perhaps they were harbor dolphins which are smaller and darker than bottlenose dolphins but have a lighter stomach. i watched as they broke the surface and then started coming out of the water and turning flips and even tailwalking. You know, the kind of stuff they train them to do at SeaWorld--right--i think these did just fine without a trainer--as if i am arrogant to think their performance was for me. As the clouds faded to grey, an easterly breeze picked up and the salt smell washed over me, cool and welcome--an old friend, as sweet to me in its own way as wisteria or azeleas----
oh, almost forgot--got a rejection e-mail from a person named Cook at Ambersand (&) for a story i had submitted. I must say that this, even though a rejection, was handled with a lot of class. Obviously, Cook had actually read the story--told me the things, hmmm, not sure if Cook is a he or she, anyway, that he/she considered good, some suggestions to consider, etc. i wrote Cook back addressing a couple of things and got a response in a few hours--again actually considering what i had written and commenting on that--in other words, every thing a good rejection (if there is such a thing-no, that's not fair, like it or not, if you write, rejections are a fact of life)--anyway, this rejection was handled with professionalism, class, and actually trying to help--no arrogance, ego, or cute statements like "we don't have any idea why we chose what we did but your effort just didn't fit whatever we were looking for" nope, i did actually appreciate the response from Cook
peace
-will-