Aboriginal Ambles

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event.”

A small knot of visitors trailed behind John Talking-Tall. Moose flies buzzed. Dubbed a land shark since both take large chunks of flesh.

The forest path opened by the lake. Scratched in stone, John’s peoples recorded their history. Rapt, the tourists listened to the Invasion of the Goat Snatchers. Lake waves lapped their Birenstocked-feet. The aroma of Deep Woods Off and sunscreen permeated the graveled beach.

“No photographs allowed.” John put up his hand. “My ancestors do not like to be disturbed.” The band of itchy, scratchy tourists fell in line as he herded them along the “Aboriginal Ambles” tours. Just like in the glossy brochure.

John’s wife and young son walked along the shore line. Stopping at the petroglyphs, she asked, “What would you like Mommy to scratch on the rock.” Her son’s face beamed. “Chickens. Chickens.” Taking out her Swiss army knife, she added figures to Adian’s farm/zoo.

{word count: 150}

@ phylor 2015

Advertisements

18 thoughts on “Aboriginal Ambles

  1. thecoastalquill July 23, 2015 / 11:22 am

    Hope no one tells John the truth…. he would be devastated. Great story!!!

    Like

    • phylor July 24, 2015 / 9:29 am

      Thanks!
      That would create family problems to be sure! I thought I’d put some whimsy in this time.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Yolanda Renee July 21, 2015 / 9:21 pm

    Another opportunity to take the tourist, a time honored tradition! Well told!

    Like

    • phylor July 21, 2015 / 10:28 pm

      Thanks!
      I come from an area that now draws much of it’s income from tourism. And, it is definitely a time honoured tradition.

      Like

  3. afairymind July 21, 2015 / 7:35 pm

    Good story, Phylor! John is an enterprising type, it would seem. And there’ll always be a stream of gullible tourists ready and waiting to be fleeced. :)

    Like

    • phylor July 21, 2015 / 10:24 pm

      Thanks.
      When a place is described as needing to rely on tourism, well . . . .

      Liked by 1 person

  4. ansumani July 21, 2015 / 12:40 pm

    I guess they were carrying on the tradition….Nice one.

    Like

    • phylor July 21, 2015 / 10:11 pm

      Thanks.
      I thought it would make for a humourous end to the story.

      Like

  5. Priceless Joy July 21, 2015 / 12:06 pm

    Loved the story Phylor. The petroglyphs were just scratches in the rock with a Swiss Army knife. Either that or she desecrated the petroglyphs.

    Like

    • phylor July 21, 2015 / 10:11 pm

      I thought it would be funny if the petroglyphs were really just pictures John’s wife made for their son. New meaning to the term “tourist” trap.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. babso2you July 21, 2015 / 11:09 am

    What an ending! Loved your story Phylor! Thanks for another excellent contribution and be well… ^..^

    Like

    • phylor July 21, 2015 / 11:28 am

      Thank you. Fun prompt to work to.
      There are sacred Mi’kmaq petroglyphs in my favourite Canadian national park. Only a very few people are allowed to see the site every year. The location is not generally known to keep the petroglyphs safe.

      Liked by 1 person

      • babso2you July 21, 2015 / 12:26 pm

        At the site where we saw these petroglyphs, people had vandalized areas. This makes me really angry that idiots have to scratch their names or spray paint history.

        Like

        • phylor July 21, 2015 / 10:34 pm

          It makes me angry too when people deface important historic/cultural sites such as petroglyphs.

          Liked by 1 person

            • phylor July 25, 2015 / 5:59 am

              Then there is spray paint in natural settings! Oh, I feel a rant coming on.

              Liked by 1 person

              • babso2you July 25, 2015 / 12:40 pm

                We went to the ruins of an old hotel built in the late 1800’s. Folks used the historic site for a paint ball gun fight. Sad…

                Like

I love dialogue. Do you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s