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Showing posts with label Tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tales. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

STORIES, TALES, AND LEGENDS



     The Newseum in Washington, D.C. displays photos of rocks, circa 4,000 B.C., portraying people talking in Tassela, Algeria—is an elder relating a legend to young people about the past? A visit to Uluru, Australia, offers cave drawings of plants and animals drawn long before our time on earth by Indigenous Australians.
                                                                                 
 
     The Lascaux Caves in southwestern France are famous for Paleolithic cave paintings thought to be 17,300 years old. 

     A tour of Sydney, Australia’s Opera House, where a Possum Drawing is exhibited, attracts the attention of local attendees and visitors avid to learn the history of this fascinating country.
      Pompeii’s mosaics and frescos, and portraits illustrate the history of the residents, work by poets like Menander and panels depicting scenes from the Iliad. I can picture our ancestors, sitting around campfires, exchanging news of food, shelter and survival and telling tales—non-fiction and fiction—of conquests, their vision of the future and how they came to live on earth—then painting, drawing and carving their stories on a canvas of rock.
     

     Text and coins proves that Julius Caesar used words to great advantage. He wrote a history of his military feats in 59 B.C. and minted coins to commemorate his victories. A daily news-sheet—Acta Diurna—was published and posted in places accessible to the public.
     Drums, bells, horns and gongs once carried messages to villages in Asia and Africa. Councils answered the call when the beat of drums meant danger or death. Bronze bells called the Chinese to worship, meet, plant and harvest in 600 B.C.—by 740 A.D., their descendants invented printing by pressing carved, inked blocks of wood onto paper.
     Stained glass windows in Cathedrals such as Chartres tell biblical stories that instruct uneducated parishioners who could not read the written word. Four panels originally made in 1145 survived the fire of 1195 and are displayed along with others were created between 1205 and 1240. The windows tell stories of The Virgin and Child, the Old and New Testament and the Lives of Saints.
Photo by Eusebius
 
     Koreans produced bronze type for molds in 1403, while in Cuzco Valley, Peru, Inca messengers recorded and tallied new conquests, birth, and death and crop yields on knotted, multi-colored cords called quipas. The quipas were then carried to local officials.  This was the century Johann Gutenberg invented movable type and type metal. Little changed for 400 years but with the development of the linotype—a typesetting machine—printing was revolutionized. Low priced publication of books and newspapers was now possible leading Thomas Edison to call the machine, “The eighth wonder of the world.”
     In 1609, printed weekly newspapers made their appearance around the globe—the first regularly printed American paper was the Boston Newsletter, printed in 1704. James Gordon Bennett published the first penny papers in 1833. Featured were lurid crime stories, human interest and diverting pieces of gossip—most far fetched—just like today’s tabloids. The front page of an 1835 edition of the New York Sun reads, “Exclusive! Creatures with Wings … on the Moon.” Science fiction and fantasy?
     A copy of The Charleston Mercury, dated December 20, 1860, announced the start of the Civil War; reporters followed the troops into battle providing the public with eyewitness news. Matthew Brady hired a team of photographers who covered nearly every battle of the Civil War. 
     Pulitzer and Hearst competed with their coverage of the Spanish-American War in 1898. The focus back then—railroads, civil rights, suffrage and immigration are still in the news today. Newspapers went unchallenged until 1920 when the public was introduced to newsreels, newsmagazines and radio. The Federal Radio Commission issued the first television station license W3XK to Charles Jenkins in 1928 and by 1948 cable television was introduced in Pennsylvania bringing television to rural areas and challenging motion pictures. An e-reader was first introduced around 1998 but didn’t take off until 2009 when new models for e-books began to be marketed and produced. In the 1930s, elevator music was easily available streaming media. Today we can hear stories and novels via audio books, stream via screen capture over the internet and yet love the feel of paper when we pick up a hard cover book. So many ways to hear tales, stories, fables, legends, fiction and fact.
    

Download hot ebooks from Carina Press Audiobooks at audible.com!

Friday, June 3, 2011

DIFFERENT HATS

Stick to one genre? It works well for others but it’s not for me. I love to travel and travel leads to non-fiction articles. The people I meet, an off-beat place or a different slant on a well-known tourist spot encourages me to write. A site—with a mystery that has never been solved, or an overheard conversation lends itself to fiction—if I don’t know how a story ends I have to invent one. History goes along with travel—time travel—back to the past. How did people live, would I have been the same person I am today if I lived then, what was it like in different lands, under different laws? How did people eat, cook, dress, rule and love? Dig into history and there’s another tale to be told. Mysteries, romances, science-fiction, literary, you name the category—narrative that doesn’t fit into a short story—pieces that fit together with the actions, speech and thoughts of characters that demand to be heard become a novel.
When it comes to writing I play the field. Please let me know your thoughts—do you wear different hats?

Bests,


Elise

My cozy eBook titled Scene Stealer is available at Carina Press, Barnes & Noble, Amazon and wherever eBooks are sold. An audio version has been produced by Audible.com


Download hot ebooks from Carina PressAudiobooks at audible.com!

Friday, April 1, 2011

All Fools' Day

Today is April 1--the day, if you remember our childhood, when we all (particularly the boys) played practical jokes. Is it actually a celebration of the coming of balmy weather, spring flowers, new birth? Ancient cultures celebrated New Year's day on April 1, Pope Gregory XIII replaced the Julian calendar with the Gregorain and the festive occasion for New Year's Day would be Jan. 1. France adapted the calendar--and the day is called Poisson d'Avril or April Fish-- but legend tells us that many people did not accept the new date or did not know about it. People made fun of traditionalists, sending them on "fool's errands," or trying to make them believe something false. So Happy April Fools' Day and remember--don't believe everything you hear or read.

Bests,

Elise

My cozy eBook titled Scene Stealer is available wherever eBooks are sold. the audio book may be found at Audible.com Download hot ebooks from Carina PressAudiobooks at audible.com!

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

We'll Be Coming Round The Mountain


Since I was a little kid, I loved to gaze out of train windows and tell myself stories about the landscape, the tall buildings and the people who lived in every part of the country. One summer on a visit to Arizona, My husband and I heard about The Verde Canyon Railroad in Clarkdale, Arizona and being train buffs decided to board. We passed places that ignited my imagination.
The Verde Canyon Railroad, a standard gauge railroad built to haul copper ore, operates today as an excursion train. Our narrated journey took us up, down, around and through a rich geological hub; a natural habitat for raptors and mule deer, javelina (a pig-like animal), antelope, fox, coyote, elk and the occasional mountain lion. Foliage, trees, flowers and the Verde River contrast with pinnacles of red rocks and nature’s carvings of limestone and basalt.
We saw the mining town of Jerome, dubbed The City in the Sky and The Wickedest Town in the West, planted halfway up the side of the mountain on Cleopatra Hill above a vast deposit of copper.
Beneath the tracks, the Verde River, 160-miles long, plays host to carp, catfish, bass, bluegill and the Great Blue Heron. A river where we observed a Heron enjoying his aquatic lunch.
Cameras at the ready, we scanned the cliffs for dwellings inhabited by Pre-Columbian Sinaqua Indians between 100 and 1125 A.D. A cave outlined with soot from cooking fires is pointed out.
From a tent city to a prosperous company town to abandoned shops, homes and streets inhabited by lonesome ghosts-Jerome was restored to life fifty years later, in 1972, by flower children with a flair for the artistic. Today, about 500 residents, artists, writers, artisans and musicians, call the town home and welcome tourists who wander its streets, patronize boutiques and trendy restaurants and catch a glimpse of yesteryear in Jerome’s Historical Society Mine Museum.
Claims on Mingus Mountain were registered as early as 1876. Rough terrain hindered efforts to reach the closest railroad station in Pueblo, Colorado; a near impossible task. Completed in 1882, The Atlantic and Pacific narrow gauge railroad connected Jerome to the town of Ashfork (originally a stage depot) and eventually extended to Jerome Junction.
Close to the depot are the remains of The United Verde Copper Company purchased by Senator William A. Clark in 1888, the Senator reaped a windfall of $1 million per month in a seven year period. Clark learned the largest lode lay beneath the Jerome smelter; the smelter led to the birth of the town of Clarkdale named after the Senator who built the 38-mile United Verde and Pacific Railroad. Two hundred and fifty men, two hundred mules, picks and shovels and black powder explosives built the line in one year’s time, in 1895, at the cost of $1.3 million equal to $40 million in present day dollars. The coal-fired railroad soon switched to oil after embers from the coal-fire kept burning down the trestle above the town of Jerome.
The first Verde Canyon excursion train, powered by one diesel locomotive, pulled out of the Clarksdale yard with 180 passengers on November 23, 1993 – destination Perkinsville, Today, the forty-mile round trip to the Pekinsville Station takes about four hours at ten to twelve miles per hour.
We passed a hard, gray slag heap that covers about forty acres; waste material from the smelter poured in a molten state. Old timers tell tales of red-hot ribbons glowing through the night. The slag heap has been purchased for the purpose of extracting millions of dollars in gold and copper. The job will, it is estimated, take twenty years.
Beneath the tracks, the Verde River, 160-miles long, flows; it stems from a natural spring northwest of the canyon near Ashfork; eight major creeks supply the riparian river where carp, catfish, bass and bluegill thrive. The water plays host to the Great Blue Heron; the bluish-gray wading bird, who measures three to four feet tall, enjoys fishing. Unfortunately, the heron has taken the day off but we were able to observe an eagle enjoying his aquatic lunch.
The Verde Valley has been with us since prehistoric times; sediments deposited in what was once a great but shallow lake created layers of limestone throughout the valley. To the left of the lake bed, a red sandstone formation circles the towering volcanic Black Mountain (1,000 feet above the other rocks); its soil rich with plant life.
An old telegraph line is pointed out as the train begins to descend into the canyon; the crew carried a transmitter and would tap into the line, the only means of communication in the early days. On the left side of the train is a basalt cliff, a 300 million-year-old formation composed of huge blocks of sandstone with irregular deposits of fine-grained shale that decomposes into mud when exposed to the atmosphere. On the far side of the river is a circle of stones; the long ago dwelling of Hohokam Indians. Seams and scraps of calcium carbonate in the cliff’s fissures are a legacy of the water that covered the area before it evaporated.
The natives chased wild game into an arroyo (a deep gully) where hunters trapped the animals. The area is home to mule deer, javelina (a pig-like animal), antelope, fox, coyote, elk and the occasional mountain lion. We searched the Red Rocks but a lonesome cow was the only animal in view. Meat would supplement the Sinaqua’s diet of corn, squash, beans and peas. Cactus (Ocotillo and Prickly Pear used for jellies and hand creams) and Banana Yucca (Native Americans ate the fruit, made soap and braided the fibers for sandals) as well as wild-flowers decorate the scene. The Sinaqua left the area around 1400; some archeologists believe they moved to northeastern Arizona and were absorbed by another tribe of Native Americans.
The train passed Sycamore Canyon -known as The Little Grand Canyon-. Beyond Sycamore, the lands on both sides of the river are part of the Coconnino or Prescott National Forests. Red-tailed hawks, black hawks, owls and ravens make their home along the Verde River and several pairs of bald eagles-the birds mate for life- migrate to the North Verde Canyon each year while at least thirty-five bald and golden eagles winter from December through March. Black and Decker, a pair of resident Bald Eagles, fledged an eaglet in 1993 and have hatched progeny including twins ever since.
The Sycamore Creek and the Verde River meet and our train entered Verde River Canyon. Beliefs, yarns and secrets thrive in the Sycamore Wilderness Area. The tin roof of an old ranch house came into view and we heard the story of Mr. and Mrs. Packard who homesteaded 60 acres between 1890 and 95. Mr. Packard lacked moral restraint; Mrs. Packard forged his name on a quick claim deed, sold the property for $1,800, bought a rifle and two horses and disappeared. A 19th Century version of the television show Without a Trace. Then there’s the saga of a lost Spanish goldmine, discovered in the 1760s, with a rich vein of gold, five to ten miles east of Perkinsville. All but two of the conquistadors were killed by Apaches but the mine has never been found.
A purplish-brown rock called Tapeats Sandstone came into view as we left Sycamore Canyon. Above the sandstone is Martin Limestone with some layers that contain materials that have an oil-like odor that are thought to date back to the Age of Fishes 416 million to 358 million years ago when bizarre, diverse and abundant lobe-framed fish swam in the Devonian Seas. Redwall Limestone, a mixed reddish-pink called Mottled, tops the Martin. A majority of the caves are in the Redwall.
Trees to the right of the train are plentiful: white-barked sycamores, cottonwoods, willows with their heart-shaped leaves and walnut and box elder, ashes and oaks fraternize with juniper and mesquite and add a wealth of cool, verdant green to parts of the region providing shade for the water.
The Red Rocks, sculpt into fantastic shapes by nature are given fanciful names by whimsical residents of Sedona. Cameras are aimed at Elephant Rock, Turtle Rock, Whistler’s Mother, Balancing Rock and The Budweiser Frogs. Clouds streak across the sky and hover over the cliff; a screen of watercress tries to hide a stream of cold water, called Big String, spilling over rocks into the Verde River.
We removed our sunglasses as we pass through a man-made 680 ft. curved tunnel carved out of solid limestone; we emerge and cross a steel bridge. The walls on both sides of the track have dropped away and we were now in the Perkinsville Valley. In 1912, the railroad placed a station on a ranch owned by A.M. Perkins. The buildings are all old structures: a bunkhouse, the base of a water tower, the old depot and a house originally occupied by the Santa Fe station master. The stop became a ghost town in the early 1950s. An additional eighteen miles of track, still used for hauling freight by the Clarkdale Arizona Central Railroad, runs to the town of Drake and meets the Santa Fe Line.
The engines on our train reversed and our return trip to Clarkdale began. An opportunity to see sights missed, moments to be captured on film and in memory and a chance to watch an eagle, as we did, glide high above the rocks, wheel, salute, and bid us farewell then soar higher and higher into the sapphire sky.

Bests,

Elise