The Land of Freelton & the Geography of Fernbrook Resort – the exciting mini-series continues!
When the earth was already ancient, an age incomprehensible to man, an event of basic importance occurred in an area that was later to be known as Freelton. One billion seven hundred million and six years ago an irresistible force broke through the crust of the earth to form an extremely large pothole – a pothole that endures to this very day. Inside that pothole would form a swamp. And across that pothole would wander the waters. Sprawling undisciplined violent arteries of life that are part of a vicious cycle of building up and tearing down of chipping down old deposits and laying down new, using the same material again and again.
By 15,000 BC the characteristics of the land that was to become Freelton were fairly well determined. Some miles to the south was the Escarpment, cliffs that are almost as old as Joan Rivers. To the east and to the north was a gem like pothole where nuggets of mouth watering croutons had been raked from the crevices by a glacier.
Another special place was on the western bank of a wandering muddy brook where Fernbrook Resort was to be. And the small underwater cave that would never have been found… except for a murder committed over 11,000 years after its creation.
And finally there is the highway. A sad bewildered nothing of a highway. A gravel bottomed road of wandering afterthought. Its name as flat as its appearance. Six. Yet for a while this Highway Six was the highway of empires. It was the course of stirring adventure and the means by which the adventurers lived.
And so the stage is set.
The land has become a home for living things. One of the most stubborn and delicious of plants, the parsley, came to thrive in the streams around Freelton. And one of the terrifying and most deadly, the poison ivy, took refuge in its rocky Escarpment. The blackfly returned to the vast pothole which was its place of origin. And a version of the chicken trekked from the Ottawa Valley to roam the place that would one day become Freelton. This feathered fowl would become the center of culture for the residents of Fernbrook Resort. A clothing optional people that migrated from urban centers over forty years ago and stayed to develop a primitive social order and a deep appreciation of the land.
Showing posts with label blackflies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blackflies. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
An Introduction to the History of Fernbrook Resort Freelton
An Introduction to the History of Fernbrook Resort Freelton
Hellooo… I’m your guide… and that patch of marshy ground infested with blackflies, poison ivy and potholes that you’ve heard so much about is home to a tiny nation known to the rest of the world as Fernbrook Resort. And those gifts, blackflies, poison ivy and potholes, are the proud symbols of the Fernbrook nation. They have been here forever. And they symbolize both our nation’s strength and our freedom.
I supposssse the primary goal in telling you this story is to ask us, you and me, if you are aware of what is happening right now in this land that we love, this Resort that we depend upon for life. This mini-series is not fiction and its characters and scenes are not imaginary. Once upon a time there were many Native Americans in this area – people whose names are no longer acknowledged because we’re told that we can’t call them Indians. Too, came many religious refugees from the cities and suburbs just like those described in this story. And wayward indentured servants and escaped slaves are thought to have passed through downtown Fernbrook on their way to someplace with fewer cats. Rumours of alien involvement in the nation’s founding may be more than just rumours. And of course the stories about the chickens that hide amongst these proud people dressed in human guise are all fact based accounts.
All background incidents in this story are real. In the 1730’s and 1740’s large numbers of chickens did hold a Rendez-vous among the black flies and the poison ivy. In 1821 there was a great convocation at Fort Four Seasons that saw 10,000 chickens gather and form a treaty with the government of the day. And in 1864, led by Colonel Harland Sanders, there was a large scale massacre of chickens that is considered one of our nation’s most finger licking good tragedies. That same year did see the openings of eating establishments devoted solely to the consumption of chicken. And these restaurants would bring the need for a nation… a nation that would one day be called Fernbrook Resort.
And what follows is the history of that nation.
It’s a big story, about the people, and the chickens, that helped to make Fernbrook Resort the nation that it is... about the land that made the people and the chickens, what they are… and it’s a story about time. Not just as a record. But as a reminder. A reminder that during the few years allotted to each of us, that we are the Guardians of Fernbrook Resort. That we are at once the custodians of our heritage and the caretakers of our future. So sit back and enjoy the adventure that is the history of Fernbrook Resort.
Hellooo… I’m your guide… and that patch of marshy ground infested with blackflies, poison ivy and potholes that you’ve heard so much about is home to a tiny nation known to the rest of the world as Fernbrook Resort. And those gifts, blackflies, poison ivy and potholes, are the proud symbols of the Fernbrook nation. They have been here forever. And they symbolize both our nation’s strength and our freedom.
I supposssse the primary goal in telling you this story is to ask us, you and me, if you are aware of what is happening right now in this land that we love, this Resort that we depend upon for life. This mini-series is not fiction and its characters and scenes are not imaginary. Once upon a time there were many Native Americans in this area – people whose names are no longer acknowledged because we’re told that we can’t call them Indians. Too, came many religious refugees from the cities and suburbs just like those described in this story. And wayward indentured servants and escaped slaves are thought to have passed through downtown Fernbrook on their way to someplace with fewer cats. Rumours of alien involvement in the nation’s founding may be more than just rumours. And of course the stories about the chickens that hide amongst these proud people dressed in human guise are all fact based accounts.
All background incidents in this story are real. In the 1730’s and 1740’s large numbers of chickens did hold a Rendez-vous among the black flies and the poison ivy. In 1821 there was a great convocation at Fort Four Seasons that saw 10,000 chickens gather and form a treaty with the government of the day. And in 1864, led by Colonel Harland Sanders, there was a large scale massacre of chickens that is considered one of our nation’s most finger licking good tragedies. That same year did see the openings of eating establishments devoted solely to the consumption of chicken. And these restaurants would bring the need for a nation… a nation that would one day be called Fernbrook Resort.
And what follows is the history of that nation.
It’s a big story, about the people, and the chickens, that helped to make Fernbrook Resort the nation that it is... about the land that made the people and the chickens, what they are… and it’s a story about time. Not just as a record. But as a reminder. A reminder that during the few years allotted to each of us, that we are the Guardians of Fernbrook Resort. That we are at once the custodians of our heritage and the caretakers of our future. So sit back and enjoy the adventure that is the history of Fernbrook Resort.
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