Category Archives: Blue and Purple Land
I didn’t want to go too long without supplying the text for this particular post concerning Whitehead Crossing, which gives pictures from probably my most successful and satisfying day of hiking in the area. Most of my pictures didn’t turn out that well however. It’s tough to take good ones in such confined areas. Below is the example of some stuff I had to crawl beside to get from one place to another — rhododendrons abounded. I had to be more mindful of hiking choices, else I could get not really lost, per se, but end up having to backtrack a longer way. I was attempting to let the woods tell me the directions I should go. And, lucky for me, it pretty well worked!
I’ve seen the very interesting white rock pictured below once before on a hike several years back. It exists beside Green Stream, but well below Whitehead Crossing and even Con Creek — more toward the mouth of the stream where it enters Spoon Fork at the lower end of the Korean Channel. Difficult to explain without a map; I’ll put that on my tado list for the new year. Just for the record, I reached this place on Green Stream from an area I’ve called Fi in the past. I talk a little about it at the end of this April 2013 post.
Green Stream tumbles through some low cascades in this more confined area, quite similar to Red Head but perhaps not quite as dramatic. But the comparison can certainly be made. So it’s a kind of “lower Red Head”. Today I found an easier way into this area than before through Fi, a new discovery.
Interesting flat rock of the area. Probably not another grave marker, however. I don’t think.
The we switch over to the next day (1/3/16) for the last snapshots of this post. And here comes yet another odd Whitehead Crossing find. What we have pictured below is the remains of a *blue* crayfish on a long log running parallel to the Little Whitehead stream. Although I’ve seen regularly colored crayfish in the area, which appear mainly mud or brown or grey colored, I’ve never in my life spotted a blue one. Yet here it is in the midst of all else weird in The Crossing. And it’s simply been *pulverised”. When I showed this picture to my wife, she said it’s probably an *owl*, and when we googled blue + crayfish online (yes they actually exist in my area of the mountains) we found the main natural predator named was this very bird. Yes, owls have barged their way back into the picture in a pretty big way.
Little Whitehead’s source from the days before was drying up.
Curious “x” of sticks that the log with the pulverized blue crayfish points to. X marks the spot?
Orange fungus. Don’t know if this is typical for winter or caused by the warm weather.
More fungus, a cluster of round brown ones this time, and on the same log pictured above.
This rock cluster is beside Little Whitehead just across from the pulverized crayfish. It contains a quartz marking I presently call the White Shark or White Submarine.
Interesing darker rocks in Whitehead Brook now. All these larger rocks probably deserve names as well.
Whitehead Brook as it flows past Remorse Rock (right).
This day I also revisited the tiny Dogpatch Cemetery and its two graves, one marked and the other unmarked. Someone has cut the rhododendron back from the marked grave. Perhaps the involved family knows about these graves after all. Or is someone else tending to it?
… should probably remain on Whitehead Crossing, now that the Land of Purple and Blue — whatever — is closed up, Hucka D. I can keep hiking down Concreek. I feel that rocks are still telling a story there, like Pork Chop Rock recently. Obviously the new batch of leaves under Floaty Tree on The Island. (pause) I’ve got to start chronicling the Whitehead X-ing rocks. It’s time. (pause) Go back to the fairy house across Green Stream before… I mean, while it’s colder. Where is the Land of Reds and Yellows? (pause) Snake Rock — name subject to quick change — is the same as the footstone for the smaller of the two graves, Hucka D. This would be the 6 month old child. Purpleland. The Silver Brook beside it — larger — is the larger of the two proximate graves here of Dogpatch. The Totem represents their merged headstones, then, which are directly aligned with each other. That’s the meaning of The Totem, the primary meaning, unless The Totem and the headstones point to even something beyond themselves. (pause) The Totem, again, is directly pointed to by the BP Bridge, equidistant from the blue can to the north and the purple can to the south. These are probably the graves again, Hucka D., and the bridge represents just that — a bridge or uniter between the two. But the bridge is the same as The Totem, see. (pause) Snake Rock is the footstone of the smaller grave, perhaps even the footstone of both graves since the streams do not lie far apart here. I saw a snake in the same place here today, Hucka D. Maybe the same snake but again maybe only from the same snake litter. Not going back for sure, and this was a cold day up here in the mountains (!) That part is definitely closed off. Silverberg interprets the Dogpatch graves. Hucka?”
This post covers one of the most shocking discoveries, certainly, from my Frank/Herman Park explorations. A fairly well traveled path, it seems, splits off from a main path near my Whitehead Crossing and quickly follows a ridge above Green Stream into the rhododendron. Already questions are arising: Why does a well trodden path just dead end as such? Do people just get off the path here, travel down it, and then find out that they — and everyone else that has done the same thing — just reached an impasse? Let’s let that question stand for a minute…
An interesting rock at the beginning of this side path. It seems to be some kind of marker. After finding out what else is on this ridge, beyond the rhododendron at the end of the above pictured side path, I believe I know what it could mark now.
In the valley below the ridge on the other side from Green Stream is found a camping spot, complete with a number of interesting rocks such as this one. Some of them could pass for primitively shaped headstones, for example.
Which brings us to this.
Remember me bringing up Head-Foot symbols a couple of posts back? Here’s a reminder.
Yes, it’s what it looks like it is. Two, in fact. The place has been called Dogpatch. It’s what lies beyond the rhododendron if you kept following that same ridge further south. It’s almost completely inaccessible from all directions — there are, in fact, only two rather narrow ways in through the woods, both of which come up the ridge from the sides. Another camping spot has been created sometime in the past (pictures forthcoming, perhaps) in the same general area and on the same ridge (at the top of one of these two entrances), but far enough away that I’m not even sure that they knew what they were camping near. Perhaps they wouldn’t care. I think I’d care, without knowing more details. And for one of the two, there’s really no more details to find. That’s the major mystery part, it seems.
We have a dichotomy or contrast of something known and defined, and something unknown and not defined. We seem to have something smaller and something larger. We have a head and a foot in both cases. We have a mystery.
Dogpatch, Arkansas, according to the GNIS database, has a long list of variant names, but a list that can nevertheless be whittled down into 2 groups: those related to Marble Falls, and those related to the pre-Dogpatch and pre-Marble Falls designation of Willcockson, as displayed on this 1895 map.
We move beyond “Dogpatch” for now back to Concreek and this nifty view of an orange-red and pretty large salamander trotting around its bottom. It was kind enough to pose for me.
“Korean Channel is perhaps the original audiovisual tiling, Hucka D. Zebra and Damsel Island are clues — black and white. Head trip.”
Obviously a gold plated football helmet that is also an army helmet, like the one used to name Monkey City when I was a boy. Land of Reds and Yellows must play a role as well. Perhaps everyone is bushed there all the time. This is a way beyond Billfork. This is the Korean Channel.
Yes. Where is the Land of Reds and Yellows? Would that be Whitehead Crossing?
Unsure Hucka D. Let’s see, the Land of Blue and Purple would be entered through that log bridge, but the actual significance of that bridge is that it points to The Totem in Silverberg on the other side of the channel. I think a battle between Silverberg and Purpleland took place in the past. Purpleland grouped around the smaller of the 2 Silverberg streams, and Silverberg proper around the larger of the two, perhaps centered by Silver Pool.
(after a pause) Maybe Green Stream itself was originally known as the Silver Stream. Now this applies to Spoon Fork perhaps.
… to be mired in Whitehead Crossing at this stage in my life? I can’t *move* there. I never will. I can meditate there. I have several medi-spots already assigned (head of This Stream has no Title and mouth of same, for instance — this is the one in front of Grey Rock). Head and foot again… Beginning of life… end. I’m going to be thinking of that darn…
Hellow. Dwelling again.
Not really. Not much. Just don’t want to write the text to my Land of Blue and Purple posts tonight. Listening to Satie. He’s a strange dude.
What’s the [Land of Blue and Purple] Totem, Hucka D.?
Alien language. Lined up with the Bridge Between Purple and Blue.
Yes that was odd. Pointing right to The Totem.
Protected by briars. Protected from man. Like you. But you see still. For you. For you to see still. It is Purple.
It is on… wait, I’m going to make a map.
Crim cram. Blippy.
Am I interrupting something, Hucka D.?
We’ve known for years. We’ve walked past it hundreds of times, maybe thousands.
Yes, I know. I must ask the obvious question up front.
Is it yours? Not really. Is it alien? Perhaps!
An alien child.
How long have the aliens been living in Frank Park? They have had access to that road a long time. The road the alien baby was created along. Perhaps.
Much more likely that it was a racial mix.
If you wish. If it comforts. But it doesn’t explain why the aliens are here *now*. Why they are attempting to communicate with you. You find this thing for a reason at this time. It is Heads and it is Foote. White County.
I’m thinking it’s more like this… can you see?
Square little fellow and all. Is that what you think?
It’s not impossible. We know that aliens are around. Hybrids.
You’re never going to know what’s in it. So you must treat it as an archetype. It is Heads and it is Foote. Coins. Seale (pause). Seal.
What of the Land of Blue and Purple?
Spin-off. Another hybrid. Rock again. Totem. Juxtapose. You’re not going to find the answers the conventional way.
You’re welcome. You must take it as it is.
Hemlock tree hiding The Totem from the direction of Bridge of B and P.
I actually returned to the Land of Blue and Purple yesterday, the day after these pictures were taken, but didn’t snap any more shots. I have a new name for the area: Silverberg, which is connected to both the Korean Channel and Pork Chop Hill.* But I think Silverberg at least has closed up early for me. Saw a snake there yesterday that wasn’t the cute garter variety I’m use to seeing. Not a big snake, but perhaps a young blacksnake or water snake. I’ll leave it/them in peace at any rate until they slink back in their holes when cold weather returns. I’ll probably treat the whole, marshy Korean Channel in this manner, except for the very upper part, perhaps, where it connects with Whitehead Crossing.
But to the pictures:
Below we have another shot of The Totem of Silverberg, and perhaps its glinty metallic appearance lent itself to the name of this “burg”. Here The Totem is merged with a background tree, as in a real life collage.
There’s one significant pool of water in Silverberg, and this picture is taken from its side. I don’t as yet have a name for this pool, but The Silver Pool could be a candidate. Many frog eggs are currently in this body of water, nestled in a swirling abundance of algae. Perhaps the calm, reflective quality of this pool is the source of the name Silverberg instead?
There’s a flat region to the pool’s east that is also most likely a part of Silverberg, dotted with small pine trees like in the photo below. The central stumps seem significant: ruins of an avatar castle?
“Silver Pool” from the north. It’s actually part of one of 2 stream flows in Silverberg…
… this being the other one, just to its east. It’s a bit smaller. The 2 streams, again, conjunct at The Totem, which would be dead center in the below photo, but hard to detect because it is sihoutted against another, similarly colored tree.
* Silverberg and Pork Chop Hill tie into Korea and Korean Channel through this:
Appropriate quote (my emphases):
… Switching of channels. Another old flick, this one seemingly set in the Korean War. Pico and Alvarado have been out on patrol for a long time. Silverberg won’t go over Pork Chop Hill—killing pigs ain’t kosher, he says. Lt. Tirebiter tries to keep morale up. Something’s moving in Sector N. Quick, the password. “I’d better disguise my voice,” and, in a WWII propaganda-film Japanese voice: “You so smaht, who wunna Seconda Wulda Wah?” The correct answer, “Not responsible,” comes back. It’s them. They’re bushed—they’ve been shooting reds and yellows all day. But the gooks are around them on three sides. They’ve got women, children, animals, and tonight they’ll all be out in the paddies because it’s the planting moon. The lieutenant outlines the plan, finishing up with “Then we’ll lock and load and go out there and ki-, ki-, ki- . . .” “Hey, what’re we gonna do, lieutenant?” “We’re gonna go out there and ki-, ki-, ki- …” The voices mount in a crescendo, and we hear one voice yelling “Porgie, Porgie, Porgie!”/Commercial. Switching channels…
This *is* the Korean channel (!) It’s also an audiovisual tile.
(continued from The Land of Blue and Purple 01)
The following day I returned to the same area, first taking this shot between straight rows of pine trees in the Square Forest not far from Concreek (and below Thrill with its Ilthril, Methrill and Myselthril). Hucka D. has claimed that Square Forest is actually a super intelligent computer disguised as a forest — hence its unnatural “straightness”. Maybe a comparison can be made to a similarly square shaped computer chip, say.
Stacked breeze blocks on the east side of the Square Forest: Hucka D. again says these are not what they seem, and represent the nucleus of the computer, a sort of mini-computer in itself that use to exist on Damsel Island and acted as the controlling intelligence for Concreek. That Bee has some imagination! I’ll have to ask him how the core got up to Square Forest when I see him next. But I guess the Square Forest could have been “built” or manufactured around this relocated core. Now *I’m* starting to think like Hucka! Zebra could represent black and white, or the on and off state of a computer bit.
And then we have Damsel Island itself, where I once again crossed Green Stream after subsequently walked down the whole of Concreek from Jacob I. Road. I took this picture of a suspicious looking piece of wood which seems to act as one of those fairy bridges once more, allowing passage to Damsel Island from the “mainland”. Impractical for humans, see, due to its smallness. But just right for a fairy?
I might have decided to call the vast open area surrounding Green Stream as it passes through this region *Korea*, and the passage itself the Korean Channel. I’m obviously attempting to import more Second Life mythology into Frank and Herman Parks if this decision stands. Second Life has perhaps crawled into its death bed, with last rites not far behind. The top of this Korean Channel (again, if the name stands) would be at Whitehead Crossing. The bottom or lower part would also be the lower part of Green Stream itself, where it meets Spoon Fork. I’ll go into more detail about all this soon.
Rotting trees in the Korean Channel, not far upstream from Damsel Island.
The Bridge of Blue and Purple again, discovered the previous day.
But what I didn’t know the day before is that the most important aspect of this log might not to be as a functional bridge, although it serves that purpose as well (entrance to the Land of Blue and Purple), but a *pointer*, because in the opposite direction from LBP it points *directly* at the silvery hued, very mysterious Totem, standing tall in a briar choked peninsula at the meeting of two small stream flows on the opposite side of the Korean Channel from here.
Now I understand this is just “mere” remains of a dead birch tree, but it’s so unusually shaped that I think it *has* to mean something, especially given the alignment with this log (in turn, midway between the blue and purple soda cans). Does it somehow describe the history of this location and its “people” (assumably avatars)?
Totem from the other side. I think I’ll create a drawing for this particular mystery feature of Frank Park. Another mysterious part is the presence of a piece of disattached bark way up in the tree behind the totem. From this angle, the two seem to merge into one symbol of some sort. Does the totem tell the story of sky people?
The totem is also surrounded by a thicket of briars, perhaps for protection and preservation. Nowhere else in the immediate area are the briars this thick. You can’t get up next to it, even — that’s why my photos are all taken from a certain distance away.
We start at Concreek for this particular post: Mossy Falls. I’ve begun to walk Concreek again after basically ignoring it since last summer. The water flow pattern is quite different now.
A beach has formed in The Dark that I don’t remember being there. I’ll have to check old Concreek photos soon (perhaps today!).
Dry Falls (The Open): no longer dry. We’ll see how long Concreek goes with the flow this year. Last year I believe it was dry at this point by about June. But we’ve had a lot more snow and ice this year to build up the ground water. Very curious to compare.
A quite interesting irregularly shaped red rock in the middle of that beach pictured above. I’m tempted to call it the Red Herring, but actually it looks more like a pork chop. Nice contrast between its rough red texture and the recently sprouted, smooth and mottled green growth next to it.
At the edge of The Final (see Concreek map in link above) we have Damsel Island, a name, like most of those connected to Concreek, established last summer. Connected as well to Damsel, Missouri. Lately I’ve just been using it as a convenient way to cross Green Stream and head to other destinations…
… like The Land of Purple and Blue. Here’s one of the first indicator that we’ve moved into a different space independent from Concreek: a blue soda can. This would be about 100 yards above Damsel Island, perhaps.
A shot of the old blue can (foreground) with a log bridge in the background (not the arched one, but the straight one just below it) that’s been dubbed The Bridge of Blue and Purple. Appropriately we have this blue can on one side of it, and about the same distance on the other side (closer to Damsel Island and Concreek), a purple soda can. I’ll have to go back (perhaps today!) and take a closer look at these equidistant containers.
The Land of Blue and Purple, as I’m currently interpreting it, is technically entered by re-crossing Green Stream via the log bridge mentioned above (equidistant between the blue and purple cans, once more). A clear area in the mainly rhododendron clogged region marks the location; all you have to do is cross the bridge and walk uphill a bit to reach it. But in truth the Land of Blue and Purple seems more a red herring, for the actual focus of this bridge appears to be The Totem, followed from the opposite direction. Appropriately I may call the capital of the Land of Blue and Purple Red Herring, and even mark it with that red rock I found in Concreek this same day of picture snapping. But let’s move to the area of The Totem, a quite mysterious object indeed.
But it was only on the following day of exploring, where I descended Concreek once more, that I found the actual totem. This day I discovered the purple fungus on a log just beside it, attracted to a flat clearing underneath rhododendron branches between 2 stream flows opposite Green Stream in the open area there.
This probably has something to do with the Land of Blue and Purple don’t you think? I’ve recently discovered this same kind of fungus, apparently, in Whitehead Crossing, but there it took more of a red or maroon cast.
Nearby is this rock that I think could have been placed here on purpose — not natural, as it were. The rock will probably garner a name soon. It lies near the head of the smaller of two water flows in this area, as yet unnamed as well — let’s call it Silverberg for now, partly because The Totem reflects a silvery hue.
A green soda can then seems to mark the upper limit of Silverberg, ending the influence of blue and purple here.*
* If this place truly is named Silverberg, or was in the past (future?), then Monkey City may also be involved. See: Head Trip.