Feeds:
Posts
Comments

The Hy Causeway

Hy-Brasil

The fog now pressing around us was not as cold as it had been when we docked our oars and dragged the boat past the surf line.

It was warmer, more embracing as we climbed from the beach up toward the fortress like ring of escarpments, hills and and rocky spires that circled the island.  The vegetation we could make out through the fog and the mist had also greened and thickened somewhat.

Jeff was beside me, as always.

It was once again Tommy and Jeff  following paths that credible maps ignored.

It was Jeff beside me all those years ago when we had stepped through the mists of the Scottish Highlands to find Fiona and her enchanting village of Brigadoon. I realize now that Fiona Campbell was someone I could only ever hope to meet every 100 hundred years – but was there another way to bridge those years.

We paused, gazing at the unsure ridge-line causeway ahead of us.

Did I have the right to ask Jeff to once again plunge through grayness and hope for sunshine beyond?

The Nisbet map had been right so far. If the island of Hy Brasil was to appear on its seven year cycle, now was the time and 52.0942532N 13.131269W were the coordinates.

We were there.

If I was to have any chance to find Fiona again, then the rest of the legend just had to be true….it had to be.

“Traverse the high causeways – follow their thread
Step with care from tread to tread
Love in your heart will stand in good stead
The Magician alone – a stone castle ahead”

The words, etched into the ancient vellum map, had once seemed nothing more than fuel to fire Jeff’s sarcastic with. Now they gave us the courage to step carefully onto the treads of the causeway. The island of Hy Brasil had been where Nisbet had noted. The causeway was there. The rest of the legend must be true.

Somewhere through the fog ahead there was an ancient Magician whose spells kept the warmth and love of special places protected through time. In my heart I knew that he could place me once again in Brigadoon beside Fiona.

“Jeff. You know the legend says that the Magician will be surrounded by large black rabbits. They are part of his magic.”

“Tommy….of course there will be large black rabbits ! It’s Easter after all….and what is Easter without large chocolate bunnies ! First one down the causeway gets the chocolates…..race ya!!!”

 

[Footnotes:

  1. Submitted for the Mummysomniac Bloggers Community Weekly Writing Challenge
  2. For those not familiar with the legend of Hy Brasil the following address is a good starter page

https://www.ancient-origins.net/unexplained-phenomena/hy-brasil-legendary-phantom-island-ireland-003608

]

 

Advertisements

Aunt Dorothy

redcar-nosedown

 

“Grandad? Is that Aunt Dorothy’s red car in the town square again?”

“Yes my darling. I think it is.

You know, there was a time here in Munchkin Land when people would colourfully gather together in the town square and laugh and talk.

The day your Aunt Dorothy dropped in on the Wicked Witch of the East everyone was in the old town square, and cheered and sang as Dorothy put on those red shoes. She had a path to follow, friends to make and wicked witches aplenty to meet and defeat.

But, Dianna, I think when Dorothy traded her red shoes and her old house for that red car….well…..things were never really the same again.

There she was….new car, new friends, an abundant supply of wicked witches to just drop in on, but the charm just ebbed out of the town square. Its a grey, drab, metallic place these days. Your average Munchkin doesn’t feel safe out doors with red cars dropping out of the sky when you least expect it. Of course, you see an occasional wicked witch checking to see which of her mates might be under the bumper bar, but they are off again just as quickly.

I think it might have been different if Dorothy hadn’t drifted away from Tinnie, Scary, and Leo. You know….old friends are gold friends.

When she got those wheels, it was new adventures, new friends. Now, don’t get me wrong, her new friends, Buffy and Michonne appear to be community minded. The three of them together keep a tight rein on wicked witches, vampires, and those walking zombies that wander along sections of the old yellow-brick road.

When I was a younger bloke, all we had was Bill, Dan, and Harold driving madly about the countryside squirting ectoplasm at all and sundry….with only a ghost of a chance of any success. Of course, the uproar about the environmental impact of ectoplasm put an end to their approach to maintaining public safety.

Dianna, Munchkin Land has changed, but at least we have each other. Come on, let’s be on our way, I am looking forward to meeting your new friend Steve. ”

“Grandad Oz……you will love Steve. He is just an ordinary guy like you, but he can fly a plane.”

“Good for him…..I am just an ordinary guy who lives behind a big curtain in an Emerald City.”

“Oh Grandad…..you are always joking”

“Ok Dianna…..lets go meet your Steve. Don’t forget to take your lasso and your bracelets. I do hope Dorothy, Buffy and Michonne get that red car of theirs out of the town square so that the council can fill in the hole. ”

 

[Footnote: Submitted for the Mummysomniac Bloggers Community Weekly Writing Challenge ]

A Day To Celebrate

 

438

Oh Matilda my dear
You must let me jump clear
For a true cad and a bounder I am
The grass is much greener
An I’m all the keener
To free you from this sham

You’re my Wallaby Rob
And you’re not worth two bob
But you are MY high steppin’ fella
In the forest at night
With the moon’s gentle light
You make a girl feel right stella

Struth! Matilda me love
And by the heavens above
It really sounds like it’s me that ya fancy
How could a bloke think to stray
And just go bounding away
Now I hope you’ll become my fiancee

Wallaby Rob have no fear
You just jump over here
Words of wisdom to you I will say
No more bounding around
Jumpin’ over new ground
You’re mine this Australia Day !

Read On

Happily Ever After

“And they all lived, happily, ever after.”

July on Montmartre

We came to the hill with the sacred heart
She held her dream of youth and art
In crayon and paper from soft summer days
Our dreams, yet to happen, held in that gaze

Even as I begin to write, I have no idea whether the story that will follow is about a few summer days in Paris, or whether it is about the excitement of one special person. She has a name, as many of us do, but I will call her Rh.
Continue Reading »

Please Excuse

I had been transferred to this remote outpost of the Queensland Education system as a reprimand for a “vigorous” discussion