Tag Archives: chronographia

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.


It was the biggest time and the baddest time. My dad was taking me to a biker rally held every year in Woodstock, New York. My dad was Sergeant at Arms and Spokesperson for the “Despicable Ghouls”, a splinter group of the “Holy Jesus Christ Our King Evangelical Church and Motorcycle Club” originally founded by Jimmy Swaggart, a real bad ass, in the early 70s. For example, he invented the “donut,” a motorcycle move where you turn the motorcycle’s handlebars all the way right or left and wail on the gas, spinning around in circles, hence “the donut.”

As Martha and the Vandellas taught us back in the day, “Summer’s here and the time it right for dancing in the street.” The weather was warm and cloudless. At night, the mosquitoes were on high alert, so we stayed in our tent and listened to them whine. There was heat lightning flashing in the sky, and I could hear far-away thunder. I loved watching the fireflies though the tent’s mosquito netting. Sometimes I would blink my flashlight at them, and I swear, a couple of times they blinked back. It was moonless, so they really glowed. And the summer sky was filled with stars. Luckily, I could see the Big Dipper through our tent’s folded back flaps.

But then, there were the crazy “Ghouls.” They lit a bonfire, drank beer, and sang and danced the night away. You could tell who they were the next morning: bleary-eyed, covered with mosquito bites, and coated with cortisone cream to kill the itching.

While my dad met with his colleagues, I wandered the fields. I thought about the music festival that was held there before I was born. The field was filled with blooming milkweed, smelling sweet in early summer. There were daisies, wild roses, goldenrod, and wild pink geraniums. I saw a Monarch butterfly and a yellow Swallowtail. And the birds! Red-Breasted Grosbeak, lots of brown Field Sparrows, noisy Crows, a couple of Bluebirds, Red-Wing Blackbirds, and even a few Chickadees. And the bird-o-rama was crowned by a Red-Tailed Hawk hovering above me.

What a day! Perfect weather—80 degrees and plenty of sun. We ate dinner in our tent—vegetarian kabobs with brown rice, peppers, onions, cheese, and Kombucha. Everything was going great until the “Holy Jesus Christ Our King Evangelical Church and Motorcycle Club” showed up. My dad grabbed his Bible, folded his arms and stood resolutely in our tent’s doorway. He was ready to argue, once again, with Rev. Crypsis, who claimed he was divinely inspired and could inerrantly interpret Scripture. I crawled under my cot and waited.


Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

Autumn is just about finished. In the woods behind my house the orange, red, yellow and brown leaves cover the ground. They speak in a raspy voice as we walk through them along our newly cleared trail. I don’t know what the leaves are saying, but it’s not about regret for falling softly to earth. It’s probably about their next incarnation as they will slowly begin to join the soil–to decay like everything else in the woods, and maybe at some point embrace an acorn or a beechnut or a catkin: to nourish them as they sprout into existence striving to be trees.

So, Daylight Savings Time is over. Halloween has come and gone. Now, we wait for the first frost and hope for a mild Winter, but we know it will go below zero and snow, and snow, and snow.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

 

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

Every direction I look there is snow–heavy, wet, incorrigible snow. As I pull on my giant black rubber boots, I’m glad that all I need to do is shovel the porch and make a narrow path the the garage’s back door. So, I plunge in the snow shovel.

I hit something softer than the hard-packed snow. I dig it up.

It is a now-headless toy mouse: one of my cat’s many toys. It is leaking catnip; sort of seasoning the pristine snow with the catnip’s dark-greenish-brown flakes. I plunge my hand into the snow to find the toy mouse’s head. I stir it around. I can’t find it.

I look up and see the cat looking at me through the back door’s window. His yellow eyes widen as he surveys the cat-toy carnage. I put the decapitated toy in my jacket pocket after dumping out all of the catnip.

I finish the path to the garage. I go inside and deposit the headless toy in the trash.

I head back inside the house & there’s the cat still sitting there: eyes wide, back straight, black tail twitching.

Nervously, I open the back door and try to explain what happened as I’m coming through the door into the mud room. I don’t even finish my first sentence when the cat walks three feet and flops down by the heat duct blowing nice warm air.

“Why do I even bother?” I say to myself. Some day I’ll get the answer, but until then, I’ll just keep asking the question, the question with no readily available answer: “Why do I even bother?”

Maybe I should ask the cat.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

My hands feel like meat-clubs. I dropped my keys in the snow. My cat is frozen to the hood of my car. Upstate New York. Winter. I think I’ll have a beer.

  • Post your own chronographia on the “Comments” page!

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

 

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

The air is warming–winding through the sunlight on a hardly breathing breeze. The fresh green field is spangled with a thousand (or more) dandelions. In the dim damp woods Jack is standing in his pulpit among droopy trillium and fiddle headed ferns. There’s a fleck of purple violets growing by the brook! I don’t care what the calendar says–today is spring! Just breathe the air and have a look!

  • Post your own chronographia on the “Comments” page!

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

Butterflies flutter by. Tree Swallows swallow the sky. It’s humid and hot. The drinks are poured. Summer’s back in town. Time to sit, relax, and look around.

  • Post your own chronographia on the “Comments” page!

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.

Chronographia

Chronographia (chro-no-graph’-i-a): Vivid representation of a certain historical or recurring time (such as a season) to create an illusion of reality. A kind of enargia: [the] generic name for a group of figures aiming at vivid, lively description.

Twilight at winter’s edge–leafless trees sketched in pen and ink along the tangled hedgerow–long-fingered shadows stroking the open field–there’s the moon pale pink rising! So sweet! Let’s build a bonfire, summon the frost, and talk about the first-snow-falling!

  • Post your own chronographia on the “Comments” page!

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu). Bracketed text added by Gorgias.