I started to write this little story about light painting a few years ago.
I’m heading west through the forest with my trusty horse Oscar. Two hours until I reach my friends’ camp on the banks of the Juniata River. The family has been operating a fishing vessel there for many years.
The Narrows. The name says it all, one of the most deadly regions along the trail. On one side, slipping off the edge here will send you tumbling to your death. The other side is a sheer granite wall with no room to move. I only passed one wagon while coming through the pass.
As I was pulling into Smokey Valley, I noticed a small crowd of people outside of the post office. I overheard two men talking about the storm. They said It hit a large section of the trail near the mountain. I jumped on my horse and raced out of town towards the ridge. When I entered a clearing, I saw the devastation left behind by the storm. The trail which winds around the mountain now looks like a giant pile of pick-up sticks.
Well, we’ll have to take the trail up the mountain. Making it to the top, I stood there for a few minutes gazing to the west. I see the Juniata River, Mattawana, and Mcveytown.
It’s time to move back down the mountain into Mattawana. I started crossing the river when a wheel broke off. Half of my supplies fell out and are floating down the river. Yay horse, I shouted. That ole horse of mine pulled that wagon across and out of the river into Mcveytown on three wheels.
I climbed under the wagon and grabbed the bent spare to put that on until I got to camp. On my way through town, I stopped at the parts store and purchased a new wheel, bearings, a few shackles, and more supplies. I’ve been chasing the darkness for hundreds of miles. I’m only twenty minutes away from the camp. Oscar needs to rest now he has been pulling this wagon on some of the roughest trails in Pennsylvania.
We made it to camp on the bent spare, so I tied Oscar to a tree and rewarded him with a box of strawberries. I notice my friend’s horses are there, but his boat is gone. He must be out fishing. So I went to work on replacing the spare with the new wheel. After I finished, I started a fire to brew some coffee. I hear a boat racing up the river and somebody screaming.
Get out of the water!
I ran down to the edge of the bank. It’s the Darkness! It’s swallowing up the land and water behind my friend’s vessel while he approaches his dock. I turned and ran to my wagon for my blade, camera, and tripod. Glancing over the front, I saw my friend and his son fleeing from the bank to safety. Shouting, It struck the shoreline!
I turned around, grasping my blade and running down the hill towards the bank. We fight again, I yelled! Slashing from the left and to the right as the darkness surrounds me.
My blade fills the air with brilliant colors of light. Blues, Greens, Reds, and Yellows.
The darkness bowed down for mercy. I said to the darkness let us be one with my blade, let us fill their eyes with brilliant colors of light. Let us run together as one as you cover the land in darkness.
The sun is rising. I must go, says the darkness as it silently disappears.