Pythian Games

put on your track shoes and write the miles

Posts Tagged ‘Pythian Games

Bay Laurel For Pythian Games

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A Beautiful Bay Laurel for Pythian Games…

(Found on a walking tour at Lemurian Mouseion, City of Ladies, Lemuria.)

(copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

Written by imogen88

July 8, 2008 at 10:25 am

An Old-Fish Story (4)

with 4 comments

Where were they going?  And why are they all going together?

 

She turned around and scrambled even further along the ledge.  Many varieties swam by: trout, bass, crappie…   Oh, and there’s a catfish.  Don’t usually see them all together.  I wonder if there is a gar although they are not usually in fast moving streams but in brackish backwaters.  I remember being so surprised when I first saw an alligator gar and how it looked like an alligator with its long snout with a double row of needle-teeth in the upper jaw.  I read up about them and their average size of 3-7 feet.  That one reprint in the paper of 10-foot long gar caught in Mississippi in 1910 was amazing.   

 

Gars are a primitive species with fossils found going back to the Cretaceous period about 145 million years ago to about 70 million years ago. What would it be like to have a direct line back for so long? But they are so ugly.  That’s unkind.  I bet they consider themselves just fine, or even VERY fine.  And the gar would be large enough to carry my satchel.  Good thing everything is in plastic-zipped bags – just in case.  

 

She sat on the ledge, feet dangling into the water, well aware that if a gar was present it might bite her leg thinking it was a flopping fish.  Gars, so old yet still around and surviving well around here and further south.  Do they have awareness or any sense of who they are?  The skeleton picture of the gar showed teeth in a bit grin, or so it seemed.  Like the wolf dressed as the grandmother in Little Red Riding Hood.  What big teeth you have…

 

Before she realized, she slid into the water, satchel, scales and all.  Other fish darted away obviously aware that gars eat fish and even crabs.  She understood their reluctance to travel close but it still hurt her even though she knew gars were solitary fish.  She always seemed to want to connect with any and every thing.  She could sense the difference between “her” feelings of being different and the gar’s acceptance of being who he was.   

 

The slight wriggling motion of the gar swimming made her nauseous for a few minutes, then it felt natural and free.  It was much easier to move through water than to walk through air because of gravity.  And the rhythm of swimming was quite soothing.  The feel of the water as she glided through actually felt very sensuous on her skin/scales.  Do fish interpret that feeling as sensuous?  Maybe not, since they don’t know of anything else and know nothing to compare it to as I do.

 

She could see a narrowing in the cave wall where the fish were heading towards and then disappearing into.   Ok, here we go!  A dark passage with spotlights on the side, here and there, as sun shone through.  Possible outlets for springs.  Springs are a good source of wells for farmers and settlers.  Are any of these hot springs?  There are many hot springs that were used and still are, for healing and pleasure, in the Ozarks.  Even Native Americans gathered here to recover and bask in the warm, soothing waters.  

 

One sun-lit area loomed larger than the previously seen ones.  It was off to the right side where the main tunnel divided.  She decided to check that one out as she saw some fish heading over there.  She swam to the same area and was suddenly outside.    

She popped up close to the surface but still retained the gar body, remembering that gar have an air bladder so they can breathe air for as long as 2 hours.  Being close to the surface to draw in air also made them vulnerable as an easy target for bow-fishermen.  But she wanted to see if anyone was around before surfacing and shifting.  Seems clear. 

She wriggled onto the pebbly bank and checked to ascertain how well the air bladder worked.  As her tail, flipping her ashore, caught the light’s reflection, she thought of how some Native American tribes, like the Seminoles, Creek, Chickasaw, and Cherokee participated in ritual dances and song surrounding the gar, and many liked to collect the gar scales, which were hard like armor.

 

She lay still, now breathing air.  She watched and listened.  She could see the other fish moving along further with the current of the stream.  She could hear the sounds of water running over rocks and the usual forest sounds.  But what is that?  A hum—something else.  Just sounds like a humming  noise.  Maybe the gar can’t hear things above water the way humans would.

 

She allowed herself to change back into her regular form so as to listen better, even though she knew her hearing was getting worse.  But it still had to be better than the gar’s.  Sounds like chattering well off in the distance—people chattering and music.  What kind of music is that?  Not any popular music like country, rap, hip-hop, reggae, rock and roll, big band, or even classical. Whatever is that?  Sounds familiar in a way, in a sort of nostalgic way… like when I was a child… sounds like circus music! Real circus music!  Where am I anyway?  Where have I traveled  to?  And when have I gone to? Since I can’t go back against the current so might as well go on.  It’s been years, but I’m going to the circus!

 

Written by thalia

June 10, 2008 at 7:34 am

Brenda Clipstone – Lemurian Portrait

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SibylGarden

At Riversleigh Manor there are many diversions. Brenda Clipstone offers martial arts and training with Chi in the gardens most days. Take your time to enjoy working with her. It will enhance your feeling of well being.

(The real, secret story of Brenda,

formidable martial arts instructor,

Riversleigh Gardens in black pants, rainbow hair and top,

cuts to the chase, with karate chops,

with thoughts of he who did her wrong.

Brenda has a broken heart, from he who done

her wrong.)

Here is Brenda’s private song

sung to her by the musical sprite

chorus in the Murmuring Woods,

where she often walks,

like Artemis:

“She tried to get the love,
tried to get the love –
tried -to – get – the – love,

from a hard man,
grown man,
lone man,
stone man.

But she didn’t get the love,
didn’t get the love –
didn’t – get – the – love,

now she’s a hard woman,
grown woman,
lone woman,
stone woman.

(Grown woman,
home woman,
wise woman,)”

(copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

(image copyright Heather Blakey 2008.)

(Song originally came from Lemurian Abbey Archives, July 2005.)

Written by imogen88

April 16, 2008 at 11:01 am

Lemurian Portrait – Ebony Wilder

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EbonyWilder

“Ebony Wilder,
Riversleigh housekeeper,
silver-y hair, blue hat,
 shells green peas,
with tea and sympathy,
orange frock,
and blue trim. 
Dreamy voice,
spinning tales,
stories emerge –
peas from the shell.
Ebony Wilder,
dropping surprised peas,
red ceramic bowl in her lap.
Green peas,
high seas,
sailor songs
of trea-che-ry,
china laden
wooden shelves, popping peas,
telling
tales of high seas.”

(Lemurian Portrait – copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

(Ebony Wilder, the Ms Marple style housekeeper of the Lemurian Abbey and Riversleigh Manor, is mild mannered by day. But you do need to know that Ebony has long associations with a smuggling ring and had connections to dubious seafaring types from China who purport to have bottled the Elixir of Creativity. Ebony is none other than the notorious Captain Ebony Wilder, whose exquisite mind and swashbuckling style was the talk of the Lemurian Seas, created by Heather Blakey, copyright image 2008.)

Written by imogen88

April 6, 2008 at 2:10 pm