Welcome to My Short Stories!
There are just a couple here.

Reset Home




Spirit's Awaken at Bald Rock A short story with a poem about the "Good Old Days"
(You 60's people know what I mean!)

Jack's Peak The Story of Jack Treadwell
Recluce Penninsula The most contemplative place I know of
Dear Bancroft Family Sweet and innocent memories from my childhood

Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Short Story Index

Jack's Peak takes it's name from a famous mountain man who became a legend in DaVinci's World. His conquests and bravery, his humble nature, and his primitive lifestyle were a testament to his devotion to the natural world and to the foundations of life formed and given to us by Mother Nature. As a young man he was prone to disappearing for months far into the back country and high among the mountains known as "The Roof of the World". Looking ever skyward, seeking ever greater enlightenment, Jack climbed with a grace and a strength that made some believe that the Gods themselves were beckoning him to attain their rarified station in the Heavens. For thirty years, Jack pursued his dreams and his goals, only being seen on scarce occasions in the villages that occupied the lower shoulders of those massive peaks. It was thought that he had a small but sturdy cabin that he called home, high in a snowy cleft of the mountain, among the Granite rock, the icy streams and the evergreens he loved. The supplies he'd purchase were meager and he seldom spoke more than a few words. His deep, sunken eyes, black as coal, were surrounded by a dishevelled mass of unkempt hair, peppered gray, growing profusely from face and head and brows, such that his features were hardly to be seen.

The day came when Jack just never appeared in town again. Some said he'd reached the Heaven he sought, some said he was just a crazy old man who died of cold, and hunger and loneliness. Some said he'd suffered from a terrible fall and froze to death in pain and anguish.

Many years later, and just a few short months ago, an expedition of daring young men climbed into the dangerous crevasses and ice walls of Jack's Peak and there, found his small log cabin. There was no sign of Jack. His cabin was in good condition and seemed to have been left by a man knowing he would not return. On a rustic wooden table, in the center of the small room, they found Jack's last letter laying beside a decanter and an empty Brandy snifter...


The Last Letter of Jack Treadway


Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Short Story Index

Recluce is nestled on a cliff overlooking the ocean on this secluded wind swept promontory and is surrounded by the Forest of Dreams. As soon as I set foot on this land, it completely takes my breath away. It is a place for quiet meditation and contemplation when the world is pressing in upon me. I am most humbled when I am standing at this awe-inspiring place. The solitude is broken only by the sound of sea birds and the pounding surf. The winds moan, pouring over the hills behind the cottage. The sound of the waves below the cliffs and the immense feeling of solitude all combine to offer a meditative, relaxing retreat on this melancholy and secluded spot. Out on the peninsula, a panoramic ocean vista framed by ancient spruces and firs opens up to the sounds of waves crashing and wind rustling through high branches.

Recluce Cabin

Recluce Cottage was built generations ago. The small and unkempt stone cottage is spare. While there, the drifting scents of salt air and cedar logs burning in the fireplace touch the senses. The rough hewn stones lend an earthy texture to the interior and stand strong against the elements of nature. The hardy yet beautiful gardens, carved out of the rock and scrub forest, are testimony to the unwavering life forces here, and this gray brick cottage exemplifies the enduring faith with which it was built. There is a certain a zen quality to the place, and in one corner, a meditation space has been created. I can practice yoga here, or just sit and gaze at the sunset over the ocean and allow the soothing bells of the wind chimes to harmonize with the ceaseless roar of the waves.

Further along, a narrow trail winds to a point where I can sit out on a promontory giving incredible views along the length of the coast to both sides, with the rocky crags disappearing in the distance and the mist. I can watch the migrating whales and sea lions navigate the rocky coast line, magnificent sunsets, dramatic winter storms, and the great sea birds fishing. The waves folding around the rocks below create tide pools where the sea anemones open their hearts to the sun and the wading birds play with the surf, catching crabs.

At dawn, I sometimes walk down the trail to the beach, ducking under the bent tree, guardian of the land and sign that this was long ago a trail that the local native villagers used to get to the caves where they traded their wares. The private beach is one of the most beautiful on the coast of DaVinci’s World. I stroll the beach exploring tide pools, collecting shells and agates, or sit quietly in one of the caves and contemplate the beauty surrounding me.

This land is truly sacred and brings me back into right relationship with myself, my loved ones and with the earth. Within a few hours it works its magic, bringing the tensions, stress and pain of my disconnections to the surface to be seen and dissolved by the power of the sea. It brings up shadow thoughts to be looked at and dissolved. In this energy of purification, I am once again connected with my true self and empowered. This is a space out of time, it is a place to go quietly inside myself, to rest and relax and feel recharged by the land and the ocean. This is truly a very special part of DaVinci’s World

Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Short Story Index