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The way the greens blossom out, sprawling like they do on the border of the wastes, it’s like they’re having a war with the stones. Sometimes the gray is covered with thick grass or moss or a small burst of flowers. Other times the grass has given way in long patches that died out, left empty patches where you can see the wasteland beneath. It’s like walking along a coastline between the live and the dead lands.
There’s something about the air here that just feels easier to breathe too, and I take each breath in as though I’ve been having a hard day’s labor. The deep breaths that reinvigorate you. I let my pace slow as I reach the final town that’s like to be considered part of the Wastes within my journey. On this bend of it, anyhow.
Did you know they’ve got five calendars? Not one. Not two. Five. My family uses the Caeldish calendar, because it makes some sense. Five days per cycle, five cycles per month, fifteen months in the year, then the nine feast days. But, I go to the south-west like I am now, I walk into the Third’s Day of Astor. Which is not, by the way, the third day of the month or the cycle. No, that would be too simple for the religious folk down there. It’s the sixth day out of the twenty-six days they have each month. And they don’t even cut it into cycles. They do it so they’ve got an excuse to tell you scriptures.
I ain’t even joking, neither. It’s easy enough to rattle off the names of the cycle days of Caeld, but the mismatched names in the Velran month are easiest to remember if you know the story. Their cycle of twenty-six is based on the Saga.
V.S.T., 7th Part, verses 9 to 14
9. And verily, thereafter, in the days of woe, when nary a tear was spared amongst all the armies of Gillean and Ventius, the lands of waste began to cloud and thunder. And there the heavens did join in with the holy tears of its most holy knights, and for an hundred hours the rain beat against the earth unceasingly.
10. So did EZERIAN cleanse the wounds of many and sanctify the dead, for all to see that he had ordained these legions of Sacredness and Might. And there amongst the stones, some cracked and unraveled by thunder, and when the rain did cease, the bodies of men and soldiers and knights were laid up to rest.
11. And beneathe the split lands, the righteous men were buried in remembrance, and on the flat stone above the wicked men were burned to ash, there to be blotted by ash from the memories of all true men.
12. And behold, Ventius and five hands in men, did lay up a whole mountain of stone in the gray, beneathe which Calluran, the Third, of noble descent and valiant heart, was given a tomb sanctified by the earth and SUN.
13. Placing the stones thereon, and sealing up the earth, Ventius did climb the mound, and therein did he thrust the Blade of Calluran, to watch over the land and guard it with his spirit forevermore.
14. May the day shine forever on us, and may our shadows ever disperse, these things we ask in blessing of the most Pure and Radiant, the Mighty and Righteous, the Moste Eternal EZERIAN, in humility. Light bless us all.
Like many creative types, I struggle with clinical depression. The trick here is that “clinical depression” often means “depression that we’ve tried to medicate.” Many writers, artists, and “non-creative” people struggle with undiagnosed depression, or at least depression that’s manageable enough that they haven’t yet taken a psychiatric route. In talking extensively on this topic with two of my close friends (both of whom are also writers and both of whom suffer from depression), it became apparent to me that this association is painfully common and that there may well be some practical explanations.
The word should really mean any act of creation, but we tend to mean something else when we talk about creativity. For most common uses of the term, creativity typically means an ability to come up with non-obvious ideas and see new connections. Imagination and creativity are intertwined in our conception; they are both ways of thinking between ideas rather than about them. In fact, a functional definition is that creativity is the ability to think expansively.
With the slate stones all thick with water, each flash of lightening overhead boils through the dark gray of the clouds and reflects up off the stones all around me. It’s like the lightning is dancing, and when the thunder comes, it follows its lead.
At the front of the lodge building, just behind where Waypoint sells its fare and brews, Daddy stops in front of the door. We’ve already loaded up my horse. I’ll be ready to go, as planned, before the sun rises.
“Do you want me to … to be up in the morning, Liddy? See you off?”
“Oh, you’ve done that plenty,” I say. “No need to burden yourself.”
Return to the hub page for more Yellowstone adventures.
The second day of the trip was definitely more active and adventurous. I’m writing here at the end of it, despite that. I just didn’t feel like taking out my laptop while we were on the run. It’s hard now going back over everything in my head. Here’s what my memory says was important:
Breakfast was fantastic. It was McMuffins, which always reminds me of Christmas thanks to my family’s traditions. We were out and about in Yellowstone by eight or so. We started immediately on a quest for the various animals and plants from our list. Some of the geological features, too.
Closeup of an Antelope
Copyright © 2013 Robbie Blair Writes