Springing for Storytelling

Subtitle: Spring Retreat

May brought storytelling experiences filled with enthusiasm and fun.  I enjoyed a stimulating weekend at the NC Storytelling Guild annual spring retreat.  Dr. Charlotte Hamlin led the workshop.  It was a time of learning, exploring and reinforcing various ways to engage in storytelling. 

For me, one of the most challenging activities was viewing storytelling through the eyes of a Massachusetts delegate to the US Constitutional Convention, Nathaniel Gorham.  Workshop attendees were each given different Constitutional Convention delegates. 

 I love history, but after reviewing the material I was given for Mr. Gorham I was stymied.  When I came to the front of the room to take on the persona of Delegate Gorham, I had no idea of what to say.  I don’t have any idea what happened.  I suppose I may have received inspiration from others in the group.  When my mouth opened to speak I felt the adrenalin pumping.  Whatever poured from my mouth wasn’t me.  Apparently it was Mr. Gorham who spoke with a strong self assured voice, rather than my frightened inner self. 

Now I realize this was indeed something to strengthen my storytelling and to help me to think on my feet.  Though I was forced beyond my comfort zone, I now appreciate it.  I’m happy to have had this challenging experience. 

Subtitle: Tales Under the Mill Moon

I’m thankful to have been invited as one of four storytellers to entertain at the Catawba County Museum Historical Association’s fundraising dinner, Tales Under the Mill Moon.  The dinner was held on the grounds of the historical Murray’s Mill in Catawba County, NC. 

We storytellers strolled from table to table after a main dinner course of hobo buffet barbeque, baked beans and fire-pit roasted potatoes.   After the guests enjoyed a delectable desert of fruit cobbler topped with freshly made ice cream, they were ready for more stories.

Next, with full stomachs, everyone gathered into a large group.  All had a grand time while we storytellers topped off the desert with more stories.  It was a magical evening.  The final hour and a half was filled with a wide variety of stories.  You could have heard a pin drop as nearly 100 guests hung on and savored each and every word. 
    At the end of the evening my storytelling friends, Cynthia Brown, Trish Dumser, Terry Rollins and I regrouped to catch up with one another and our  excitement of the evening.

Vance County Storytelling Festival

       Tuesday, April 23, 2013 was an exciting day as 12 storytellers gathered in Henderson, NC for the Vance County 17th Annual Storytelling Festival at the Perry Memorial Library.  During the course of the day fourth grade students arrived from around the county to enjoy a feast of folktales dished out by these storytellers.  The festival concluded with an evening family story concert, filled with energy and audience participation. 
        I was invited as one of those storytellers.  My alarm was set for 4:30am.  Ordinarily, I’m not conscious at that time of morning.  But if I wanted to arrive in time for the first session at 9:30am, I had to get going.  After a fun filled and gratifying day I returned home at 11:30pm.  I was so tired and sleepy I felt as though I was on a drunk.  I’ve read this is what happens to our bodies when we are facing sleep deprivation.  I crashed into bed and slept most of the next morning.  Crazy you say?  No, it was a fun, worthwhile kind of ‘tired’ and I'd do it again in a heartbeat!  
        Sadly, within the past several years I‘ve witnessed a number of storytelling festivals fall by the wayside in my area of the country.  After talking with organizers of the Vance County festival, I wonder, is the declining number of festivals due to a lack of funds during a time of recession, or is it simply due to lack of strong community interest, leadership, conviction and support?
        I applaud the Perry Memorial Library for their strong leadership, conviction and dedication to preserve the ancient art of storytelling.  This would not be possible without help from their local community.   They are able to do this with help from local organizations.  The Vance County Arts Council and the Friends of Perry Memorial Library gave their generous support, in addition to the NC Arts Council.  It’s all a part of literacy and historical preservation.      

       It was a great honor for me to participate in this event.

Spring Has Arrived

   Yesterday was a beautiful day with the perfect spring temperature, 73 degrees.  I appreciate the beauty spring brings; I felt the soft breeze and paid attention to the birds’ songs.  My husband and I completed some much needed yard work.  

   Every year I forget about our little dogwood tree.   

The beauty of fresh blossoms goes unnoticed 'til they’re past their prime.  This year I decided to keep

a close eye on the buds.  For the first time I found new enjoyment from our dogwood tree.  A week ago I saw a sign of white unfurling.  Each day I noticed more and more white visible.  Three days ago I noticed blossoms had formed, yet small and tender.  I decided yesterday was the day to play.  I'd had enough back breaking work from digging up dandelions.

I pulled out Jim's little ladder that converts into a bench and placed it near the tree.  Up I climbed, armed with camera, and began to shoot away.  Trying to get different points of light from various sides or angles of the tree.  As I zoomed in for close-up shots, I noticed the intricacies of God's handiwork, which gave me 'joy in the moment.'  Singing birds flew in

and out of the tree, ignoring my presence.  Little chickadees flew in and out, returning again and again.  My attempt to capture them on camera was fruitless so I returned my concentration to dogwood blossoms. 

As I moved away from the dogwood blossoms, I walked toward another little tree in our side yard, a plum tree.  As I drew closer, tiny bright pink blossoms contrasted against deep burgundy leaves took my breath away.  I realized I wasn’t finished.  I had to take a few more photographs.  As the saying goes, “a picture is worth a thousand words.”  And I don’t have the appropriate words to describe the handiwork of God.

  

     Each of us should slow down occasionally to drink from our Creator's handiwork.

Awaiting Spring

    I’m definitely awaiting spring!  Particularly following a beautiful weekend of early ‘April like’ weather.  I’m ready to grab my camera, rush outside and explore nature.  I’m reminded of several butterfly photos I took last year.  Actually, I’ve been chasing butterflies for over 25 years!

      I remember the fun last year on the Outer Banks.  I spotted and photographed a number of them on a nature trail.   One was the monarch.  They were everywhere.  They were attracted to a large clump of flowering bushes.  There was also another type of butterfly there.  I recognized it as one I saw several years ago along the Gulf coast of Florida.  I was more than intrigued.  “Why on earth is it here in North Carolina,” I wondered?  I had never seen so many large butterflies feeding or fluttering over blossoms in my life.  

 Back in the motel room I conducted a butterfly identification search.  According to Wikipedia, I discovered this beautiful butterfly was a Gulf fritillary.  It is also known as the passion butterfly.  The ones I’ve found so far have a brilliant orange color.  Months later, I conducted more research and determined they are sometimes called the passion butterfly, simply because they are attracted to the passion flower - a flower that grows on a vine.

 In North Carolina, Gulf fritillaries are fairly common along the southeastern coast in fall.  They are also found from Argentina, Central America, Mexico, the Caribbean and Florida to the Outer Banks of North Carolina; sometimes further north.  They’re also found on the United States west coast along the San Francisco Bay area.

 Further down the trail I spotted a butterfly with strange shaped wings.  “This butterfly must have gotten its wing caught and torn,” I thought.  But, after chasing it, I got a closer look.  Both wings appeared to be unusual.  I stood on my tiptoes.  I managed to snap one photo just before it flew away.

 I hurried my pace.  I rounded a curve and saw what I thought it was a dried leaf.  I stared.  I noticed a similarity to the shape of the butterfly I had just photographed.  It made a slight movement.  “Hummm”, I mumbled to myself, “another peculiar butterfly.  Wonder if this is a butterfly in disguise?” 

 Again, I did more research.  I typed ‘butterfly leaf’ as my subject.  Finally, there it was.  There were photos of both the top and underneath side of a butterfly that was an exact replica of the one I found on the trail.  Sure enough, the underneath side of its wings created a perfect disguise.  It was my first sighting of an Eastern comma butterfly.

 I hope spring soon arrives, bringing with it spring like weather.  My camera is ready.  The batteries are charged!

Storytelling Workshop with Tim Lowry

Recently I was among 24 storytellers who attended a storytelling workshop at the Ft. Caswell Baptist Assembly, just south of Wilmington.  Our workshop leader, Tim Lowry conducted an educational, yet fun workshop, complete with many helpful exercises and activities. 

Tim's telling of two historical stories was absolutely fascinating.  He explained that he incorporates them in his school residencies to teach students the importance of history and the understanding of history.  In addition, he emphasized how the two World Wars continue to affect our lives as they are today.  

As he told the stories he invited several of us to play the parts of various world leaders.  Each of us wore a different guise to signify the specific country we represented.  I quickly saw how this activity involving students could enhance and enliven history for the classroom.  My boring old textbooks would never have compared to learning history through lively, exciting storytelling like this. 

Another group activity involved all workshop participants.  Tim directed us to pay attention to how we use our voice by taking part in a play.  He selected a couple of acts from three plays with enough parts for everyone.  This activity demonstrated how important it is for storytellers to understand feelings of emotion portrayed in a story when performed on stage. 

The more my group practiced we began to perceive first hand the meaning of this exercise.  After each practice session I realized how we became more and more comfortable with our parts.  Each person’s speaking part was beginning to sound more and more real, as if the scene was actually happening.  The highlight came Sunday morning as our three groups took turns reading, acting and feeling the emotion of our parts in the company of the entire group.  We were amazed at how powerful each play had become. 
      When I returned home I was so inspired by the workshop that I selected two history topics and began to research them.  I’m presently researching ‘powder monkeys’ and ‘German U-Boats along North Carolina’s Outer Banks’ during World War II.

I may decide to change the focus I have in mind, but I’m having an exciting time as I work on this new material.  If the research leads me down an unintended path, this was meant to be.  My goal is to write and add two engaging stories of North Carolina history to my repertoire for use in the classroom.

Teach's Hole

     I have been intrigued with Ocracoke Island since my first trip there nearly 25 years ago.  Visiting Ocracoke is like being in another time; so quiet and peaceful in a well-preserved place.  The island is a part of the North Carolina Outer Banks.  Most of Ocracoke Island is protected as part of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore.

      On past visits, time was spent exploring the quaint little Village of Ocracoke itself.  There was no time left to explore the island; it was always time to pack up and return home again.

      After I returned again last fall, 2012, a thought suddenly hit me; “Why, this place is saturated with history.  Why wait?  Let’s get busy and explore the rich history.”  And that’s exactly what I did.  

     If I had to select the most exciting event of this trip, it would be my visit to Teach’s Hole.  “Why hadn’t I thought of doing this before?  It will happen this time,” I promised myself.  I decided to visit the well-known spot where the pirate, Blackbeard, anchored his ship, The Adventure.  And the very spot where he fought to his death.  His final battle was just beyond Ocracoke Village.  It was there Blackbeard was captured and literally lost his head thanks to Lt. Robert Maynard of the British Royal Navy.  That was nearly 300 years ago.  One legend has it that Blackbeard’s body continues to swim around the island searching for it’s head.  

      It rained several days during the time my husband, Jim, and I spent on the island.  Somehow we were constantly rearranging our plans for my much desired adventure.  Midway into our trip I announced, “We should go to Teach’s Hole today.”  Jim tried to talk me into waiting.  Intimidating black clouds were gathering overhead.  Well, I had seen similar clouds before when there was very little or no rain.  And I was anxious.  I didn’t want to delay it another day.  So off we go on foot from our motel.  To reach the entrance to Teach’s Hole we must hike through Springer’s Point Nature Preserve.   

     The entrance to Springer’s Point is at least 30 minutes or more from our motel.  And here we are!  Just as Jim takes a photo with my new camera, I felt raindrops.  He glares at me.  “Let’s go under cover beneath the bushes and trees,” I suggest.  We do, yet the drizzle continues. 

     Jim makes a suggestion, “I think we should turn around.”  I finally give in.  We turn around and head back toward the main road.  Now the rain is more than ‘just a drizzle.’  Thank goodness I carried my waterproof hooded windbreaker with me.  We hasten our pace as I wrap my windbreaker around the camera to keep it dry.  I am thinking we’ll never reach Highway 12.  Just as we do, I notice the massive black rain clouds have grown.  They cover the sky as far as I can see in every direction.  They release their holdings and I have never been so wet.  “Where is that umbrella when we need it?” I wonder.  “Well, of course!  It’s back at the motel.”

     I don‘t dare put on my hooded windbreaker.  Protecting my new camera is much more important!  Here we are in our short sleeve T-shirts, Jim in his jeans and I in my shorts.  I decided, “We can’t possibly get any wetter.”  But we do! 

     After what seems like hours, we are dodging huge water holes, even mud holes along the roadside.  Cars and bicyclers drive past.  They splash muddy rainwater into our path.  Eeeew!  Out of breath we finally reach the motel. 

     It’s two days later.  Our drenched clothes and tennis shoes are still drying out.  With a few uncertain clouds overhead, we enter Springer's Point on foot for a second time, both of us carrying a camera.

     “This is my lucky day,” I think to myself.  We are experiencing a most interesting hike through this quite peaceful forest. We see interesting little surprises along the path, a private cemetery, a blossoming bush, purple berries, even a little shell sitting on the path’s edge.  I think to my self, “Ah, here’s an interesting shell.”  Curious I lean down to pick it up.  “Yeeow!”  Its sudden movement frightens me as the little crab scurries off the path.    

     As our path nears Pamlico Sound I stop, slowly drink in the loveliness and take a photograph.  Who might imagine this peaceful area as the place where ole' Blackbeard met his demise? 

     My imagination drifts far, far away to a different time; nearly 300 years ago.  I spot Blackbeard’s ship, The Adventure, anchored just beyond this live oak forest and marsh grass.  As I stand quietly I hear the voices of Blackbeard and several ship mates as they head across the beach toward the forest.  They step on the path just beneath the protection of the beautiful live oaks.  My arms are covered in goose bumps. 

     “It’s time we step out into the clearing now,” comes a voice from behind me.  My heart stops, I catch my breath and jump.  As my feet return to the path someone taps me on the shoulder.  I realize it’s just my husband.  I return to the present time with the thrill of a lifetime.  And a new story.

Ocracoke, North Carolina

Recently my husband and I spent nine fun filled days on Ocracoke Island, NC.  We took lots of photos, walked down village streets, attended music concerts at the Deepwater Theater, listened to stories and history told by local islanders and took walks on the island beaches.

One day we were nearly blasted off a sand dune by wind and sand.  Ouch, that sand stung from head to toe.  Later in the day we returned to Ocracoke Village only to learn there was a tornado warning until 8 pm.  No wonder the wind blew so hard; we confirmed it was up to 25 and 30 miles per hour.

We walked an interesting nature trail, Hammock Hills, out on the island near the campground.  Here’s a critter I photographed, out of many, as I watched him move about in the swampy area near the trail.  I’m amazed at the cute little cartoon like face, reminding me of a Disney character.  What would you name him?  I spotted other interesting creatures that reside there.  The trail goes through a part of the island forest that serves as a habitat for small wildlife, though nothing as large as deer.  Actually, the island itself is not a habitat for deer. 

I plan to blog more about Ocracoke.