The Wishing Knife

One day the old man's grandson spotted the knife, old and worn lying on his dresser.  "What's that" he asked?  "That's my wishing knife."  "Why do you call it your wishing knife, Grandpa?" now more curious.  "I'll tell you why" the old man replied.  

When I was a lad about your age, my dad was working long hours in a factory that made propellers for planes.  He worked long and hard for little pay because of the War overseas.  Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before we would need those planes in the air.  We could not hold out much longer before would have to get involved in the fighting.  There was an even more pressing need for men to join the service, and there had been discussion that Dad might be among those men.

To a boy who didn't understand the violence and devastation of war, but only saw the wonder of uniforms and mock battles played with toy soldiers where everyone lived to see another day, this was wonderfully exciting.  "Go Dad", I said, "Go and bring me something back."  My dad felt-duty bound to enlist, though not because of anything I had said.  To him it wasn't exciting or glamorous; he knew the dangers, but felt he owed his country this service.  Then Pearl Harbor was attacked, and attention was drawn to the death and destruction there.  This was it!  We were at war!  

I was excited and proud that my dad was going to be a soldier.  As he boarded the ship that would take him far across the ocean, the crowd cheered, and I cheered right along with them.  He was going to be based a world away in France, but spending much time aboard ship.  He was a seaman in the Navy, patrolling the waters just off the coast.  While there was much action in the Pacific, we were all relieved Dad was overseas just doing patrols.  This was still a frightening time, with long periods of silence, and letters from Dad were scarce.  The ones that did get through were filled with hope and courage, and reassurances that we shouldn't worry.  He was not among those doing the fighting.  He was just on patrol.

Six months later we got the call.  There had been a surprise attack on a Navy ship in the Mediterranean, and it had been sunk.  They didn't have any more information at that time.  Another ship in the area picked up all the survivors, and we awaited word.  The survivors had been identified, and Dad's name was not on the list.  I cried for days.  It was all my fault, I had wanted him to go.  I was so proud that my dad was in the Navy, fighting for his country.  Now he wasn't coming home.  I could not be consoled.

A Magpie Tale

When his body was found and shipped back to the states, along with his belongings there was a shiny new knife with a polished wooden handle.  It said "Made in France".  With it was a note that read:  To my dear son, may this knife always remind you of Freedom.  Love Dad.


I've kept this knife with me always, and everyday I look at it and wish that I could take back those words,  "Go Dad", I said, "Go and bring me something back."

Please click beneath the picture for more magpie tales.

Gone to the Dogs?

Y'all know about Dog Days, right?  Those sticky, steamy summer days where there is no such thing as a good-hair day, and just breathing leaves you sapped and soggy?  Well, I'd say they've come to these parts early this year.  Suddenly it's hot with the rat-drenching humidity typical of "Dog Days", and outdoor interests are quickly cast aside for the comfort of air conditioning.

As the humidity rose, I began to wonder where Dog Days originated, and why we use our canine friends to describe such beastly conditions.  Dog Days, as we know them here in the South, normally begin about the time we are cranking up for the Fourth of July, and are the hottest, most humid days of the summer.  The phrase Dog Days comes from Sirius, or the Dog star.  Ancient beliefs hold that this star, second only in brightness to the sun, was the cause of this miserably hot weather.  Also, at that time Dog Days were thought to be evil, causing the seas to boil, wine to turn sour, and bring on burning fevers and hysterics in man.  In those days, Romans would sacrifice a dog to appease Sirius in hopes of getting relief from the heat.

The OId Farmers Almanac shows Dog Days to be the period of 40 days from July 3 through August 11.  It's not even officially summer in our part of the world.  Have the miseries of Dog Days struck your area yet?  

Quote of the Week

photo from wikimedia

It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.  

- Henry David Thoreau

Several people can look at the the same scene, object, picture or person and, asked to describe what or whom they've seen, each relate a different description.  It's what we see in our surroundings and our friends that really counts.

Stepping into the Picture

A while back some of you may have seen this photograph on Sara Healy's blog, a sharing connection. This was from one of her Story Photo posts. She suggested that this picture had a story to tell. This is its story.

Photo courtesy of Sara Healy

Beyond the Obvious.  This picture talks to us.  Let’s see what it has to say.  We see things around us.  We see our houses, the passing cars, the flowers and the dog in the neighbor's yard.  All these are real.  We don't think about it, they just are.  They're things we can see, touch, smell and hear.  What about all the things we can't see?  Are they less real?  Do they not exist simply because we can't see them?  Ah, I've got you now.  We're taking a journey beyond the obvious into another world, the world of magical, mystical wonder.  The portal is guarded by two creatures, immortal, half man, half animal, not really belonging to either world.

What lies beyond?  As we pass through the portal, the sky appears to brighten and the lines of definition become fuzzy, taking on an ethereal quality, and nature sings with a voice beyond human ears.  It's not a frightening place, but at the same time we are aware that we're not alone.  This is a world where things are more sensed than seen or heard, a world inhabited by spirits. They are not the ghosts of humans passed, but rather they exist beyond time and space, eternal with no beginning or end.  They are keepers of the realm and the protectors of magic. They can take on physical shape much like the guardians or simply flow in harmony with nature and pass silently between worlds.

As we pass through this strange new place, we pause, reflective, and thoughtful.  This is a magical place.  There is wonder everywhere.  The sky is brighter, the grass greener, the air is alive.  We sense a movement ahead, and there among the trees is the most magnificent creature.  It is a horse-like animal with a single horn centered upon its head, bearing a striking resemblance to the mythological unicorn.  It is the purest white, wearing a blanket of red and gold tapestry.  Impossible!  We all know unicorns don't exist, but then again we're not in our world now.  This is the land beyond the obvious, and anything is possible.

The Battle Begins

Another Magpie Tale

 

My weapons are honed

Awaiting the light of day

Let us now begin






Please click beneath the picture for more magpie tales.