Sunday, January 29, 2006

Vinds !!!!!!




In a crisp elegant parlor of fashionable, turn of the century London, Prince Vlad ( "I am your servant") sits and waits for his beloved Mina (Elizabetha). His "lifeless" heart stirs and strains to feel hope, but a waiter enters the trysting place with a note on a sterling plate and offers it to the Prince. Hesitantly, he picks it up, unfolds it, and reads that his Love has left to cross the seas to join her once-missing, now newly-found betrothed, Jonathon. Bloody tears cascade from Vlad's eyes and stain the note as the pain of loss riddles his body. In but a minute, the pain of sadness changes to waves of rage. Suddenly, the Prince-now Count-Order of the Dracul-Vampyre'- jumps up, looks heavenward, and screams, " Vinds, Vinds,...Vinds!" In moments, a roaring blast of icy wind and dark clouds flies from his raging presence in all directions. London is enveloped first, yet the storm continues to radiate outward across the planet in a vaguely heart-shaped explosion that lays tribute to, and is fueled by the disappointments of broken-hearted lovers everywhere. It crosses the mighty Atlantic ....

In the placid Florida morning, an angler's dream of christening his new Challenger is realized as he hooks and battles the first bonefish of his vessel, Odyssey. Ever so slowly, the Gray Ghost gives in and gets released with gentle, reverential respect. As the fish swims out of his hands, the angler looks up to suddenly-darkening skies that seemed to have formed out of nowhere. His puzzlement changes to concern as the still heat of the morning changes to cool, then cold blasts of winds- this is not a good place to be! He turns the key of his little electrostart Johnson 35 Horse engine...blessedly, it fires up. He puts the engine in gear, jams the throttle, jumps on plane and is off, heading to port. Far across the seas, the Count plans his pursuit of Mina as she continues her own odyssey of safe reunion with Jonathon in an abbey just outside of the Carpathian Mountains.

There'll be more of this tale, Dear Reader, but have we not found the true cause of foul weather?

Jan

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