My window to another dimension, a clear blue marble, suspended between my thumb and index finger, held to up to my 8-year-old eye. The worlds glistened and swirled kaleidoscopically. My imagination scaled Olympus.
Mossy, moist, and block-like, the stone in the cool shade of the tall swaying shrubs near the side of the old farm house was an ancient titan's incus. I would crush blue-bell flowers and dandelions on it's flat (flat enough) surface. Then would stuff them with a small stick into an old discarded aspirin bottle as a mystical potion.
The retired coal burning stove with it's hinged, grated hatch, it's clawed feet, pot-belly and disconnected pipes that sat for months on the front porch was just a disguise. It contained a maelstrom of other-worldly powers upon which I would draw as s source for my wizardry.
Most powerful were the dismembered chicken feet, fresh from the pre-supper slaughter and plucking of the poor bird. They became eagle talons and, when I held them in front of me, I could soar and swoop down on unsuspecting, (and puzzled) Skipper who is normally my canine co-conspirator. But, at that moment, became my prey. It would be a few days before my grandmother, following the stench of death, would find where I stashed the talismanic limbs behind the china cabinet in a re-purposed Hershey Candy Bar box (later found - through smell - and discarded, LOL).
I lived in a magical world that stays with me to this day.
In my youthful days, I possessed a remarkable window to another dimension – a clear blue marble, delicately cradled between my thumb and index finger. When I peered through it with my 8-year-old eyes, a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of glistening worlds swirled before me, and my imagination soared to Olympus.
Close to the old farmhouse, nestled in the cool shade of swaying shrubs, lay a mossy and block-like stone, resembling an ancient titan's incus. I used its flat surface to crush bluebell flowers and dandelions, creating a mystical potion that I would then stuff into an old discarded aspirin bottle.
Unassuming on the front porch, an idle coal burning stove with its hinged, grated hatch, clawed feet, pot-belly, and disconnected pipes concealed a wellspring of other-worldly powers. I tapped into its energies to fuel my budding wizardry.
Among the most potent components of my magical arsenal were the dismembered chicken feet, freshly obtained after the pre-supper ritual of slaughtering and plucking a poor bird. These transformed into eagle talons when held in front of me, allowing me to soar and swoop like a bird of prey, catching even my unsuspecting canine companion, Skipper, off guard.
Although I reveled in my magical world, my adventures sometimes came with unexpected consequences. My hidden trove of talismanic limbs, once found by my grandmother due to their pungent aroma, was eventually discarded – a discovery that sparked a chuckle in hindsight.
To this day, the enchantment of that magical world remains within me, a cherished memory of my imaginative and playful past.
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