Monday, July 21, 2008

360. It was a Dark and Stormy Night

Last night, between 10pm and 11pm, I sat on my back porch and watched the free light show offered up by Mother Nature. The rain had ended and what remained was a quite spectacular show of all types of lightning - field, streaks, and occasionally an entire sky of light and fire and surreal power. On those occasions when the entire realm it seems was showered in bright and electrifying light, I scanned (as quickly as possible) for the open spaces through which one can possibly see beyond this world, if indeed those open spaces are there and one can actually see to through them.

I've always been fascinated by the idea that there are portals here and there where it might be possible to escape over to another world, again assuming there is one out there. Not another world in the sense that somewhere in the myriad of galaxies and milky ways that there might be another "earth" where an orb has been placed just far enough away from or close enough to a star the likes of our "sun" so as to provide life as we know it here. The portals I speak of are entries into another realm that may be neither here nor there, but is very much as this place, while possibly being an entirely different one.

Opportunities to cross over usually (allegedly) happen at special places and at special times, places like Easter Island or the Mayan Temples in Mexico, or Stonehenge, and times like the changing of the seasons, the solstices and equinoxes (a favorite subject of this blog), or the other cardinal points of a calendar, which fall between these abovementioned more familiar ones, being May Day (or May Eve), All Hallows Day (or the more familiar night before, Hallowe'en), Mid Winter's Day on February 1, or Lughnasadh, or La Lunasa, coming up at the close of this month. A familiar reference to such a time is found in Shakespeare's Hamlet, Act III, Scene ii, where Hamlet speaks

"Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on."
They may be when people are at that final wayfaring point in their lives, ready to shuffle off their mortal coil and move over to the next adventure. There have been books written and shows made of the tales of such folks who believed they've been over to the other side, wherever that other side may be.

Then there are also the fictional accounts of otherworldly places, places such as Glastonbury Tor in England, made real for me, already an ardent follower and believer in the Arthurian Cycle, in the book The Mists of Avalon, a 1982 tome by Marion Zimmer Bradley whose bookcover is at right, which is one of my favorite reads, although I have not revisited its pages on many years. The phenomena allowing such cross overs are usually to be found in nature. Every now and then we read of some religious person seeing the face of Christ or of Mary as the clouds are parting on a beautiful morning. Or they occur on those occasions which could play as the setting of any one of those old stories starting with the words "It was a dark and stormy night . . . "

As you may recall, last night was one of those, as a strong thunderstorm raced through Louisville between 9:30 and 10:00 with winds gusting up to about 25 mph, lowering the temperature to around 73 degrees, and then moving on to other places.

Before the storm, I had left off having coffee along Bardstown Road with my friend and a friend of his, a young lady named Rikki who is making her way in the next couple of weeks to the University of Tennessee for her second year, where she is to study French and World Business. Her trip to Knoxville will take her first to Lexington, then Pittsburgh, the District of Columbia, and finally southward to Knox County, Tennessee, home of the Volunteers. She had summered in Paris - theirs, not ours - where among other things she studied American ex-patriot writers, giving me the chance to ask her if she had "had a coffee along the Left Bank?" to which she answered "yes." She had in fact studied and written about Ernest Hemingway, including the reading of The Sun Also Rises, which is featured from time-to-time here in the postings along the Left Bank of the Ohio River near Milepost 606. As I reported later to my friend (who was her friend), she was charming and I was charmed. When I was twenty, most of the young women I knew had never summered in Paris - not even ours - nor were they studying anything other than English or History, if anything at all. There were a few exceptions - one of them went on to become a middle school principal and another became a Chamber of Commerce type, while still yet a third to no one's surprise simply married an older rich doctor of Indian or Pakistani descent, which was rather more unusual then than it seems to be now.

Our little kaffeeklatsch ended as the rain started and I made my way home.

2 comments:

Jeff said...

If you could, would you explain how the annual Fancy Farm picnic works? I have checked the website (fancyfarm.net) and am not sure about a few things. Is this event entirely open to the public? Do you have to have or purchase any kind of entrance pass, i.e. a ticket? Is everyone welcome to eat? Is Fancy Farm a fundraiser? Do you have to identify yourself at any point in the course of events?

Anonymous said...

Fancy Farm is simply the name of the little town which hosts the Saint Jerome Catholic Picnic. If you've been to any Catholic Picnic, you can imagine this one. The difference is that this one has become the traditional place for campaigns to begin their final push for the fall. It is entirely open to the public. There is plenty of food to buy - good food. There is Bingo to play if you are into that sort of thing. But for two hours in the early afternoon there is the political speaking and that is why it is so important. Finally, chances are really good that it will be hotter than hell. It usually is.

Below are links to my posts on Fancy Farm from last year. Read through them to get an idea of what it is all about.

I hope this helps.

http://ohioriver606.blogspot.com/2007/08/152-more-to-come-but-right-now-im-tired.html

http://ohioriver606.blogspot.com/2007/08/154-237-miles-each-way-but-i-drove-723.html

http://ohioriver606.blogspot.com/2007/08/155-more-of-fancy-trip-part-two.html

http://ohioriver606.blogspot.com/2007/08/156-fancy-farm-and-more-final-part.html

Jeff Noble

The Archives at Milepost 606

Personal

Louisville, Kentucky, United States
Single, male, bald, overweight, early 50s, seeking . . . Oh wait, that's goes on the other website. How about this - never married, liberal Democrat, opinionated but generally pleasant, member of the Episcopal Church. Graduate of Prestonia Elementary, Durrett High, and Spalding University; the first two now-closed Jefferson County Public Schools, the latter a very small liberal arts college in downtown Louisville affiliated with the Roman Catholic Sisters of Charity of Nazareth. My vocation and avocation is politics. My favorite pastime is driving the backroads of Kentucky and southern Indiana, visiting small towns, political hangouts, courthouses, churches, and cemeteries. You are welcome to ride with me sometime.