Podcasts about skylark

Un 16 de mayo nos dejó Django Reinhardt. Escuchamos al legendario guitarrista en las grabaciones que hizo en París en 1953, unas semanas antes de su fallecimiento, de 'Crazy rhythm', 'Anouman', 'Nuages', 'Night and day', 'Insensiblement', 'Brazil', 'Confessin that I love you', 'Manoir de mes rêves', 'Le soir' y 'Chez moi' recogidas en el disco 'The last bebop sessions'. También en mayo, el día 13 pero de 1988, se fue Chet Baker. De su disco 'Late night jazz', grabado en París tres meses antes, clásicos como 'If you could see me now', 'Skylark', 'Love for sale', 'My foolish heart' o 'Body and soul'.Escuchar audio

El prolífico guitarrista sueco no para de publicar discos. Escuchamos grabaciones de los editados en estos primeros meses de 2025. De 'Sofo session', en trío con Martin Höper al contrabajo y Ola Bothzén en la batería, escuchamos 'Bossa for Miles', 'Once I loved' de Jobim, 'Sunny' de Bobby Hebb, 'La tranquilidad', 'Sommar' y 'Monicas vals' de Bill Evans -con la voz de su hija Tea-; del homenaje a Billie Holiday, 'For Billie', grabado a dúo, voz y guitarra, con Tea, los clásicos 'I´ll be seeing you', 'Lover man', 'My romance' y 'Blue moon'; de 'Live at Jamboree', en concierto en Barcelona, con el bajista Camil Arcarazo y el baterista Jorge Rossy, 'It could happen to you' y 'Skylark'; de 'Sunbeam', en cuarteto con Pär-Ola Landin (bajo), Karl-Henryk Ousbäck (batería) y Britta Virves (piano), 'October song'. Escuchar audio

Skylark is a multi Grammy-nominated vocal ensemble here for this week's Live Music Friday. Shirley Leung on her recent episode of “Say More” where she speaks – for the first time publicly – about her experience with cancer. Evan Dalton & Nathan Senner are two birding experts, we'll put their skills to the test, discuss how climate change impacts bird populations, as well as the threats to science funding.Matt Gertz for Press Play; we peak behind the curtain of the Fox News universe on tariffs, and get an update on the latest with Paramount/60 Minutes.

There's a second case of the measles in Austin — and this time, it's in a vaccinated adult. On today's Friday News Roundup, host Nikki DaVaughn is joined by Hey Austin newsletter editor Kelsey Bradshaw and executive producer Eva Ruth Moravec to talk about how the city is responding to the statewide outbreak amid federal funding cuts, and what Austinites should be doing now to be protected. Plus, the lineup for ACL Festival comes out soon, so we're sharing our predictions for this year's throwback band, and sharing our recommendations for what to do this weekend. At the top of our list: Celebrate the Skylark Lounge's last weekend before the legendary blues bar closes for good.   If you enjoyed the interview with Austin Bergstrom's International Airport Public Information Office Division Manager, Kimmie Hey, learn more here! Learn more about the other sponsors of this May 2nd episode: Aura Frames - Get $35-off plus free shipping on the Carver Mat frame with Promo Code CITYCAST Visit Port Aransas Cozy Earth - Use code COZYAUSTIN for 40% off best-selling sheets, towels, pajamas, and more. Want some more Austin news? Then make sure to sign up for our Hey Austin newsletter.  Follow us @citycastaustin You can also text us or leave a voicemail.  Interested in advertising with City Cast? Find more info HERE

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In this episode of Molecule to Market, you'll go inside the outsourcing space of the global drug development sector with Jodi Cook PhD, President and CEO at Skylark Bio. Your host, Raman Sehgal, discusses the pharmaceutical and biotechnology supply chain with Jodi, covering: How a curiosity for unanswered questions led her to a PhD and a career in biotech… and, ultimately, the magical, rare experience of getting a product to market The full-circle moment that took Jodi from being an audiologist to becoming the preclinical biotech CEO of a gene therapy company focused on curing pediatric deafness The reality of running a biotech company in the most challenging climate in a long time - and why she treats every dollar in the business as if it were her own Dress to impress - no-nonsense advice on crafting the impression you want to leave on your audience Why does she allow herself to dream of what Skylark can achieve as a business and the profound impact of gene therapies on patients? Jodi is an operationally focused business leader with experience across public and private biotechnology and medical device organizations. She brings a unique combination of scientific, clinical development, operational, and commercialization expertise to Skylark. Before leading Skylark, Dr. Cook was Senior Vice President of Gene Therapy Strategy at PTC Therapeutics. Before that, she served as the founding Chief Operating Officer of Agilis Biotherapeutics, overseeing its $1 billion acquisition. She earned her Ph.D. from Arizona State University, a Master's in Audiology from the University of South Carolina, and a Bachelor of Arts from Loyola University Maryland. She completed a fellowship at Johns Hopkins Medical School in Baltimore, Maryland. She is a Board Member of Fennec Pharmaceuticals and was previously Board Chair of STRM.BIO. Please subscribe, tell your industry colleagues and join us in celebrating and promoting the value and importance of the global life science outsourcing space. We'd also appreciate a positive rating! Molecule to Market is also sponsored and funded by ramarketing, an international marketing, design, digital and content agency helping companies differentiate, get noticed and grow in life sciences.  

Welcome to your weekly UAS News Update. We have 4 stories for you this week. Zipline expands its drone delivery service into Texas through a partnership with Walmart, NASA is developing a new system designed to predict drone hazards before they happen, Pierce Aerospace has deployed drone detectors to the US Border, and BRINC raises $75m.First up this week, Zipline is bringing its drone delivery service to the Dallas area, starting in Mesquite, Texas. This expansion comes through a partnership with retail giant Walmart. Customers in the service area can now sign up to get orders delivered in about 30 minutes using Zipline's latest drone model, the P2 Zip.The drone can carry payloads up to eight pounds within a 10-mile radius. Zipline boasts about their precision, claiming "dinner plate-level" accuracy, meaning they can land a package on a space as small as a doorstep or a small table. The P2 Zip uses both lift and cruise propellers and has a fixed-wing design, which helps it fly quietly and handle gusts of wind up to 45 miles per hour, even in the rain.The delivery process is interesting: the P2 Zip hovers around 300 feet up, then lowers a smaller container, called the 'delivery zip,' on a tether. This smaller unit uses fan-like thrusters to maneuver precisely into place before gently setting the package down. Both parts use cameras, sensors, and Nvidia chips to navigate and avoid obstacles.Next up, NASA is working on making drone flights safer with an advanced software system designed to predict potential airborne hazards *before* they actually occur. It's called the In-Time Aviation Safety Management System, or IASMS for short. The main idea behind IASMS is real-time risk assessment. Instead of just reacting when something goes wrong, like a loss of navigation or communication, the system aims to anticipate these kinds of threats and alert drone operators ahead of time.Michael Vincent from NASA's Langley Research Center put it simply, saying the system ideally works unnoticed in the background, only intervening right before an unusual situation might arise. NASA has been putting IASMS through its paces. Back on March 5th, they ran extensive simulations at the Ames Research Center. These focused on complex scenarios like hurricane relief missions involving multiple drones doing things like beyond-visual-line-of-sight supply drops and inspections.Next up, Pierce Aerospace just announced a partnership with a company called Skylark Labs, bringing some next-level drone detection tech to the US-Mexico border and beyond. Basically, they've put Pierce's YR1 Remote ID Sensor and other drone detection sensors on Skylark's 100-foot Scout Tower, alongside this tech they are calling "Superintelligence AI."What makes this setup special is that the AI actually learns in real-time from the data it collects in the field, rather than relying on pre-programmed stuff that might be outdated. The system can detect, track, and identify drones and other potential threats, giving border security and law enforcement a much better picture of what's happening both in the air and on the ground. Last up, Seattle-based drone manufacturer BRINC secured $75m in new funding and announced a strategic alliance with Motorola Solutions. The alliance integrates BRINC drones with Motorola's APX radios, VESTA 911 call management systems, Computer Aided Dispatch, and Real-Time Crime Center Software. This means that drones could get dispatched automatically.Join us later for happy hour in the community. We are also BACK for the live Q&A on Monday after a 3-week hiatus due to the move and travel. Post-flight is also back on Monday in the premium community as well. So we'll see you then.https://dronexl.co/2025/04/06/nasa-drone-safety-hazard-detection/https://www.cnbc.com/2025/04/08/drone-delivery-startup-zipline-expands-to-texas-with-walmart.htmlhttp://pierceaerospace.net/

Last time we spoke about the Visayas Offensive. In March 1945, the Pacific War raged on. On Iwo Jima, the US Marines, after intense fighting and heavy casualties, declared the island secured. Meanwhile, in northern Luzon, General Clarkson's division advanced towards Baguio, facing fierce Japanese resistance, while General Mullins pushed through Balete Pass. The Japanese army, grappling with severe supply shortages, was forced to evacuate Baguio. In the Visayas, General Eichelberger's forces targeted the Sulu Archipelago and Central Visayan Islands, securing key airfields. The 40th Division landed on Panay, capturing Iloilo, and launched an assault on northern Negros. On Cebu, the Americal Division landed near Talisay, encountering mines but minimal resistance, and secured Cebu City. By April, Allied forces had made strategic advances across the Philippines, overcoming Japanese resistance and establishing crucial airfields. This episode is the Invasion of okinawa Welcome to the Pacific War Podcast Week by Week, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800's until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.  We have come to the grand final battlefield at last, that of Okinawa. Of course battles are raging in all sorts of other theaters like New Guinea, China, Burma, etc. However as you might imagine its becoming impossible given the week by week format to cover all of this in single episodes. So we are going to hardcore focus on Okinawa for awhile, we will circle back to the other theaters to catch up. Seriously it was the only logical way to do this and honestly in retrospect I wish the entire podcast was campaign by campaign instead of week by week. But I am a mere podcaster following the youtube series of this. But if you want to hear a campaign by campaign series, over at Echoes of War me and my cohost Gaurav are beginning to roll them out. The first series will be the entire Malayan Campaign, and I think after that I might try to do the Philippines. Regardless lets jump into the invasion of Okinawa. As previously noted, the directive issued by the Joint Chiefs of Staff on October 3 designated Okinawa as the final target for invasion, following the establishment of air and naval bases in Luzon and Iwo Jima. Capturing this crucial island would bring the conflict to Japan's doorstep, disrupt the enemy's air communications through the Ryukyu Islands, and flank their maritime routes to the south. Consequently, from these newly established air and naval bases in the Ryukyus, American forces would be able to launch attacks on Japan's main islands and implement a more rigorous sea and air blockade, isolating them from Japanese territories to the south. This made it imperative for the Japanese Empire to maintain control over Okinawa and the Ryukyus. To this end, the 32nd Army, led by Lieutenant-General Watanabe Masao, was formed there by late March 1944. Initially, it comprised four companies and one artillery regiment stationed at Amami Oshima; five companies and one artillery regiment at Nakagusuku Bay; four companies and one artillery regiment at Iriomote Island; along with various garrison units from the 19th Air District in Okinawa.  Under Operation Tei-Go, the Ryukyus and Formosa were to form a long zone of interprotective air bases. These bases were expected to defeat any American sea or air forces sent into the region. To avoid destruction from the air, each base was to consist of a cluster of airfields, such that if one were damaged others could be used immediately. Military and civilian crews were promptly set to work building the numerous fields. 13 base clusters had to be created, stretching in a line from Tachiarai in the northern Ryukyus to Pingting on Formosa in the south. The only remaining tasks for ground forces were the defense of these facilities and their support anchorages and the unenviable work of building the fields. Much of the energy of 32nd Army would be absorbed building these air facilities. This was more difficult since 32nd Army had only two bulldozers and one earth roller. Japan had produced dozers in small numbers at its Komatsu plant since 1943, but few had reached the front. Since soldiers were thus obliged to use shovels, hoes, straw baskets, and horse-drawn wagons, construction was slow. Moreover, because of enemy submarine raiders, it was impossible for the Japanese to deliver the large quantities of fuel, ammunition, and anti-aircraft guns needed to operate the bases. Even more seriously, the planes themselves were not available. Between April and June, the 32nd Army received reinforcements, including the 44th and 45th Independent Mixed Brigades, the 21st Independent Mixed Regiment, and the 27th Independent Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion, among other air garrison units. From these forces, Watanabe chose to send the 45th Brigade to establish bases on Miyako Island and Ishigaki Island, while the 21st Regiment was tasked with setting up a base on Tokunoshima. On June 27, the 1st and 2nd Infantry Corps (approx. 4100 men) boarded the Toyama Maru and began the voyage to Okinawa. The 44th Brigade HQ, Artillery and Engineer Units meanwhile boarded other vessels of the Taka-412 convoy. Two days later, while the convoy was sailing east of Tokunoshima, the submarine Sturgeon successfully sank the Toyama Maru with two torpedoes, therefore inflicting the loss of 3724 men and much heavy equipment. Because of this, the 1st Corps had to be deactivated.  Following the fall of Saipan, the Japanese Empire rapidly deployed significant ground forces to the 32nd Army, including the 9th, 24th, 28th, and 62nd Divisions, as well as the 59th, 60th, and 64th Independent Mixed Brigades, and the 27th Tank Regiment. Additionally, the 15th Independent Mixed Regiment was airlifted to bolster the beleaguered 44th Brigade, which was reorganizing its 2nd Corps with local recruits. The 32nd Army Staff wished to use as much of the indigenous population as it could in direct support of the war effort, so on January 1 1945 it ordered total mobilization. All Okinawan males aged 18 to 45 were obliged to enter the Japanese service. 39000 were drafted, of whom 15000 were used as nonuniformed laborers and 24000 as rear-echelon troops called the Home Guard (Boeitai). Many of the Boeitai replaced sea based battalions and rear-area supply units that had been reorganized and equipped for frontline duty. In addition to these, 1500 of the senior boys of the middle schools on Okinawa were organized into Iron and Blood Volunteer Units and assigned to frontline duty. Some of these students had been tried out in the signal service in the autumn of 1944 with good results, so the program was expanded. Since the fall of 1944, 600 senior students of the girls' middle schools also had been given training in the medical service. While most of these troops were sent to strengthen the main defenses at Okinawa, a large portion of the 28th Division was actually assigned to reinforce the garrisons on the Miyako and Yaeyama Islands. The 36th Regiment was dispatched to support the Daito Islands, the entire 45th Brigade was moved to garrison Ishigaki and the rest of the Yaeyamas, the 59th Brigade was tasked with defending Irabu Island, the 60th Brigade was sent to reinforce Miyako Island, and the 64th Brigade was deployed to the Amami Islands. On August 9, Lieutenant-General Ushijima Mitsuru took command of the 32nd Army. His initial strategy was to occupy all of Okinawa with a strong force and eliminate any invading troops at their landing sites. As fierce fighting began at Leyte, intensive training for the troops commenced, including divisional maneuvers at potential American landing points, artillery bombardments of beachheads, and nighttime assaults on bridges. However, on November 13, Tokyo decided to send the elite 9th Division to Formosa to prepare for a movement to the Philippines that ultimately did not occur. The unexpected withdrawal of the 32nd Army's best division disrupted Ushijima's operational plans. Ironically, this situation improved combat efficiency, as it compelled the army to achieve more with fewer resources. Ushijima chose to concentrate most of his forces in the mountainous and easily defensible Shimajiri area, located in the southern part of the island. This strategic location allowed the Japanese to maintain control over Naha port and target the northern airfields with artillery. Similar to the situation in Iwo Jima, this decision marked a departure from the previously favored strategy of a "decisive battle," opting instead for a war of attrition that had proven effective at Peleliu and Iwo Jima. As a result, Ushijima positioned Lieutenant-General Amamiya Tatsumi's reinforced 24th Division at the southern end of the island, Lieutenant-General Hongo Yoshio's reinforced 62nd Division along the central isthmus, Major-General Suzuki Shigeji's reinforced 44th Independent Mixed Brigade on the Hagushi plain, and Colonel Udo Takehiko's Kunigami Detachment, consisting of two battalions from the 2nd Corps, in northern Okinawa. These troop placements were successfully implemented in December; however, concerns arose that the 32nd Army was spread too thin to effectively counter the anticipated enemy invasion. Consequently, on January 15, Ushijima decided to move the 44th Brigade from the Hagushi plain southward to overlap with the 62nd Division's area on the east, significantly shortening the Japanese front. Additionally, one battalion from the Kunigami Detachment was sent to defend Iejima and its crucial airbase, which necessitated the rest of the unit to consolidate its positions and strengthen defenses on Yaedake Mountain in the Motobu Peninsula. Ushijima also had the support of the brigade-sized 5th Artillery Group, led by Lieutenant-General Wada Kosuke; the 21st Field Anti-Aircraft Artillery Corps; the 11th Shipping Group, which included several shipping engineer regiments and sea-raiding battalions; the 19th Air District overseeing various aviation service units; and Rear-Admiral Ota Minoru's Okinawa Naval Base Force, which comprised nearly 9,000 personnel stationed at the Oroku Naval Air Base near Naha. Ushijima had nearly 100,000 troops at his command, with 29,000 assigned to specialized units for anti-aircraft, sea-raiding, and airfield operations. Anticipating the nature of the impending conflict, these well-staffed service units were reorganized for ground combat. The 19th Air District transformed into the 1st Specially Established Regiment, responsible for defending the Yontan and Kadena airfields it had recently constructed and maintained. Most of the service personnel were integrated into the new 1st Specially Established Brigade in the Naha-Yonabaru area, while the sea-raiding base battalions became independent infantry units. Additionally, the remainder of the 11th Shipping Group was restructured into the 2nd Specially Established Brigade on the southwestern part of Okinawa. This reorganization, completed on March 21, bolstered ground combat strength by 14,000 men, leaving only 10,500 of the 67,000 Army personnel in specialized roles. To protect themselves, the Japanese began constructing robust fortifications, tunnels, and cave systems to shield against anticipated enemy bombardments.  Work on the caves was begun with great vigor. "Confidence in victory will be born from strong fortifications" was the soldiers' slogan. The caves meant personal shelter from the fierce bombardments that were sure to come, and they also offered a shimmering hope of victory. The combination was irresistible, and units began to work passionately on their own caves. Enthusiasm was essential because of the great toil it took to create the caves. Just as 32nd Army had only two bulldozers to make airfields, it had no mechanized tunneling equipment at all. Besides lacking cutting equipment, 32nd Army also lacked construction materials. It had no cement, no ironware, and no dynamite. The units had to rely entirely on wooden beams that they obtained themselves to shore up their shafts. This was not necessarily easy because there were no forests in the south of the island where the troops were now stationed. Pine forests were abundant in the mountainous north, however, so each unit was assigned its own lumbering district in the north. Several hundred men from each division were detailed as its lumbering squad. The problem remained, however, of how to move the several million logs that were needed over the 40 or so miles from the forests to the forts. With no railroads and the use of trucks limited by a shortage of gasoline, the solution was for each unit to cut its own logs, then transport them in small native boats called sabenis. The divisions acquired 70 of these, which then plied the waters steadily from north to south. In January 1945, however, the Leyte-based B-24s that began flying over daily for reconnaissance also began strafing the boats. So the waterborne delivery of logs had to be switched from day to night, greatly lowering efficiency. Ushijima aimed to prolong the fight from these positions and decided to destroy the indefensible Yontan and Kadena airfields to prevent their use by the enemy, effectively ending the ineffective air defense strategy initially devised by Tokyo. Meanwhile, Admirals Nimitz and Spruance were preparing for Operation Iceberg, the invasion of Okinawa. Given the expectation that the capture of Iwo Jima and recent air assaults on Japan would concentrate enemy air power around the Empire's core, which would respond aggressively to any attacks on Okinawa, the Americans needed to first neutralize or eliminate enemy air facilities in the Ryukyus, Kyushu, and Formosa to achieve air superiority over their objective. As a result, all available carrier-based and land-based air forces were tasked with this operation, including Admiral Mitscher's Task Force 58, General Kenney's Far East Air Forces, Admiral Hoover's Central Pacific Forward Area, and General Arnold's 20th Air Force. From the 20th Air Force, General LeMay's 21st Bomber Command was assigned to attack Okinawa before moving on to Kyushu and other vulnerable locations in the home islands. Meanwhile, Brigadier-General Roger Ramey's 20th Bomber Command, supported by General Chennault's 14th Air Force, focused on neutralizing Formosa. Aircraft from the Southwest Pacific Area were also set to conduct searches and continuous strikes against Formosa as soon as conditions on Luzon allowed. Additionally, the British carriers of Vice-Admiral Bernard Rawlings' Task Force 57 were tasked with neutralizing air installations on the Sakishima Group in the ten days leading up to the landings. Once air superiority was achieved, Spruance's 5th Fleet was to land Lieutenant-General Simon Buckner's 10th Army, which included Major-General John Hodge's 24th Corps and Major-General Roy Geiger's 3rd Amphibious Corps. The 24th Corps comprised the 7th and 96th Divisions, while the 3rd Amphibious Corps included the 1st and 6th Marine Divisions. As the Commanding General of Expeditionary Troops, Buckner also oversaw the 27th and 77th Divisions and the 2nd Marine Division for special operations and reserve purposes. Furthermore, the 81st Division was held in area reserve. In total, Buckner commanded a force of 183,000 troops, with 116,000 designated for the initial landings. The plan called for Major-General Andrew Bruce's 77th Division to first secure amphibious bases in the Kerama Islands on March 26, with one battalion further securing Keisejima five days later to establish a field artillery group there. On April 1, following a demonstration by the 2nd Marine Division in southern Okinawa, the main landings were set to take place. The 24th Corps and the 3rd Amphibious Corps would land simultaneously on the west coast beaches north and south of Hagushi. After landing, both corps were to quickly advance across the island, capturing the airfields in their designated areas before securing all of southern and central Okinawa. Subsequently, Buckner's forces were to invade and secure Iejima and northern Okinawa. Once this was achieved, there were tentative plans to launch an invasion of Kikaijima with the 1st Marine Division and Miyako Island with the 5th Amphibious Corps. For the invasion, Spruance relied on a Covering Force under his command, along with Admiral Turner's Joint Expeditionary Force. This force included Admiral Blandy's Amphibious Support Force, which comprised minesweepers, UDTs, and escort carriers; Rear-Admiral Morton Deyo's Gunfire and Covering Force, consisting of ten battleships and eight heavy cruisers; Rear-Admiral Lawrence Reifsnider's Northern Attack Force, responsible for landing the 3rd Amphibious Corps; and Rear-Admiral John Hall's Southern Attack Force, tasked with landing the 24th Corps. Similar to Iwo Jima, Okinawa had endured multiple air attacks since October 1944 as part of the preliminary operations for the landings on Leyte, Luzon, and Iwo Jima that we previously discussed. These operations also included air strikes aimed at neutralizing Japanese air power on Formosa. Throughout February and March, Mitscher's carriers and LeMay's B-29s brought the conflict back to the Japanese home islands with a series of strikes that caused significant damage and instilled fear in the population. On March 1, Task Force 58 launched the first strike of the month against the Ryukyus, targeting Amami, Minami, Kume, Tokuno, and Okino, as well as Okinawa. This operation resulted in the destruction of 41 planes, the sinking of eleven vessels, damage to five others, and significant harm to island facilities. In between the main assaults on Japan, the superfortresses frequently targeted key sites in the Ryukyus, leading the beleaguered Japanese forces to refer to these missions as the "regular run." Throughout March, aircraft from the Southwest Pacific and the Marianas conducted nearly daily operations over the Ryukyus and surrounding waters, searching for Japanese shipping and contributing to the isolation of Okinawa by sinking cargo ships, luggers, and other vessels, while American submarines intensified the blockade around the Ryukyus. Meanwhile, after completing extensive training and rehearsals, Task Forces 51 and 55 gathered at Leyte, Task Force 53 assembled in the Guadalcanal-Russells area, and the rest of the 5th Fleet convened at Ulithi. On March 12, Reifsneider's convoy, carrying the 3rd Amphibious Corps, was the first to depart, successfully reaching Ulithi nine days later. On March 18, the tractor group transporting the 77th Division began its journey from Leyte to the Kerama Islands. On the same day, Mitscher's carriers targeted 45 airfields in Kyushu, claiming the destruction of 102 Japanese planes, damaging or destroying 275 on the ground, sinking six vessels, and damaging three more. In response, Admiral Ugaki's 5th Air Fleet launched a counterattack against the carriers Enterprise, Intrepid, and Yorktown, inflicting minor damage while losing 33 aircraft. The next morning, after locating the majority of the Combined Fleet at Kure, Mitscher dispatched 436 aircraft to target naval installations and shore facilities in the Inland Sea. At 06:50 three C6N Saiun “Myrt” recon planes discovered Task Force 58, and by 07:00 Captain Genda Minoru's elite, handpicked 343rd Kokutai had scrambled 63 advanced Kawasaki N1K2-J “George” Shiden-Kai fighters from Shikoku to intercept the Americans. Minutes later, Genda's powerful Shiden-Kais “waded into the Hellcats and Corsairs as if the clock had been turned back to 1942.” Soon the 343rd Kokutai was engaged in a wild maelstrom with 80 US fighters, including VF-17 and VBF-17 Hellcats from Hornet and VMF-112 Corsairs from Bennington. For once the Japanese broke about even, losing 24 fighters and one scout plane to the Americans' 14 fighters and 11 bombers. Nevertheless, Genda's expert but outnumbered 343rd Kokutai proved unable to blunt the American onslaught. Despite facing a formidable intercepting force, they managed to inflict damage on 18 Japanese warships, including the battleships Yamato, Ise, Hyuga, and Haruna, as well as six aircraft carriers. Additionally, one incomplete submarine was destroyed, 97 enemy planes were shot down, and 225 were either destroyed or damaged at Japanese airfields. In response, Ugaki launched a kamikaze counterattack that successfully struck the carriers Wasp and Franklin, causing significant damage and forcing Franklin to head to Pearl Harbor immediately. As Task Force 58 slowly withdrew the afternoon of March 20, a damaged Zero crashed destroyer Halsey Powell, killing 12 and wounding 29. Shortly afterwards friendly anti-aircraft fire started fires aboard Enterprise. At 23:00 eight Japanese torpedo planes unsuccessfully attacked the carriers, while three overnight snoopers were splashed by anti-aircraft fire. Between March 17 and March 20 Ugaki had committed 193 aircraft to battle and lost 161. On March 21 Ugaki dispatched a 48-plane strike, including 16 G4M “Betty” bombers, carrying the very first Ohka (“Cherry Blossom”) suicide missiles. However the combat air patrol (CAP) of 150 Hellcats and Corsairs repulsed them. Franklin, Wasp, and Enterprise, all damaged, steamed to Ulithi as a reorganized Task Group 58.2. Except for April 8–17, when Task Group-58.2 was briefly reestablished, Task Force 58 strength would remain at three Task Groups throughout Iceberg's duration. Ugaki's 5th Air Fleet was meanwhile effectively incapacitated for several weeks, but Ugaki nevertheless reported five carriers, two battleships, and three cruisers sunk, which IGHQ found scarcely credible. Meanwhile, the Mine Flotilla departed Ulithi on March 19, followed two days later by the rest of Task Force 52 and Task Force 54 to support the Kerama operation. On March 23, to prepare for the imminent minesweeping operations of Iceberg, Task Force 58 conducted extensive bombing raids on all known installations in Okinawa, resulting in significant damage and the sinking of 24 vessels and damage to three others over the following five days. Furthermore, Admiral Lee's battleships traversed the cleared area and opened fire on Okinawa, sinking an additional two vessels. With this naval and air support, Blandy's minesweepers and UDTs successfully cleared the route for Rear-Admiral Ingolf Kiland's Western Islands Attack Group by nightfall on March 25. Their primary opposition in the following two days consisted of a series of kamikaze attacks, which caused damage to the battleship Nevada, light cruiser Biloxi, four destroyers, two destroyer minelayers, one minesweeper, and two transports, while the destroyer Halligan was sunk by mines. The next morning, supported by naval gunfire and carrier aircraft, Bruce initiated his first landings. The 3rd Battalion, 305th Regiment landed on the southern beaches of Aka Island, facing sporadic resistance. Meanwhile, the 1st Battalion, 306th Regiment landed unopposed on Geruma Island, which was quickly secured. The 2nd Battalion, 306th Regiment achieved even faster success at Hokaji Island, while the 1st Battalion, 305th Regiment invaded Zamami Island with light resistance. The 2nd Battalion, 307th Regiment encountered minor opposition as it took Yakabi Island. The Fleet Marine Force Amphibious Reconnaissance Battalion scouted Keisejima and found no enemy presence. After encountering some resistance, the units on Aka and Zamami pushed back the enemy garrisons, securing two-thirds of Aka by nightfall and successfully repelling a strong counterattack on Zamami that night. Simultaneously, Deyo's warships and Blandy's carriers began bombarding the demonstration beaches, while minesweepers cleared progressively larger areas around Okinawa, although the minesweeper Skylark was sunk by mines. By March 27, the remaining enemy forces on Aka and Zamami were finally eliminated, and a company took Amuro Island without opposition. Additionally, a company from the 307th moved to Kuba Island, which was quickly secured. At the same time, Bruce continued his main landings, with the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the 306th Regiment landing on the west coast of Tokashiki Island, facing minimal opposition. As the two battalions advanced north along narrow trails toward Tokashiki town, the 3rd Battalion landed to secure the southern part of the island. On March 28, they reached the town, clearing the entire island and concluding the Kerama operation.  In Kerama, "Island Chain between Happiness and Good," the Japanese tradition of self-destruction emerged horribly in the last acts of soldiers and civilians trapped in the hills. Camping for the night of March 28 a mile from the north tip of Tokashiki, troops of the 306th heard explosions and screams of pain in the distance. In the morning they found a small valley littered with more than 150 dead and dying Japanese, most of them civilians. Fathers had systematically throttled each member of their families and then disemboweled themselves with knives or hand grenades. Under one blanket lay a father, two small children, a grandfather, and a grandmother, all strangled by cloth ropes. Soldiers and medics did what they could. The natives, who had been told that the invading "barbarians" would kill and rape, watched with amazement as the Americans provided food and medical care; an old man who had killed his daughter wept in bitter remorse. Only a minority of the Japanese, however, were suicides. Most civilians straggled into American positions, worn and dirty. In all, the 77th took 1,195 civilian and 121 military prisoners. This operation resulted in the deaths of 530 Japanese soldiers, 121 captured, and the neutralization of over 350 suicide boats, with American losses totaling 31 killed and 81 wounded. While this initial operation was underway, the tractor groups of the Southern and Northern Attack Forces left their staging areas in Luzon and Ulithi on March 25, followed by the rest of Spruance's fleet two days later. On March 26 and 27, Rawlings' Task Force 57 conducted a series of strikes on the Sakishima Islands, primarily targeting Miyako. Meanwhile, after a 250-plane raid on the Mitsubishi plant in Nagoya on March 24, LeMay sent 165 B-29s from the 73rd and 314th Bombardment Wings to attack the Kyushu airfields on March 27, facing minimal resistance as they caused significant damage to the Tachiarai Army Airfield, the Oita Naval Airfield, and the Omura aircraft plant. Other bombers from the 313th Bombardment Wing laid aerial mines in the Shimonoseki Strait. The Japanese responded with a raid on Spruance's naval units using aircraft and suicide boats on the night of March 28, resulting in one LCM being destroyed and one cargo ship damaged. On March 29, Mitscher launched another strike against Kyushu, but poor weather conditions led to only minor damage, with 12 vessels sunk and one damaged. By this point, the “largest assault sweep operation ever executed” had cleared the Hagushi beach approaches in 75 sweeps, with minesweepers clearing 3,000 square miles of coastal waters. The following morning, as Task Force 58 once again targeted Okinawa, Deyo's ten battleships and eleven cruisers advanced to bombard Okinawa's defenses and demolish coastal seawalls with increased intensity. At the same time, the 314th sent 12 planes to attack the Mitsubishi engine works in Nagoya overnight. The next day, LeMay dispatched 152 B-29s for his second assault on Kyushu, completely destroying the Tachiarai machine works and heavily damaging the Omura airstrip. On March 31, back in Okinawa, the final underwater demolition operation off the Hagushi beaches was underway while the 420th Field Artillery Group was successfully positioned on Keisejima, prompting a strong reaction from Ushijima's artillery. That morning, a Ki-43 fighter crashed into Admiral Spruance's flagship, the Indianapolis, resulting in the deaths of nine crew members and severely damaging a shaft, which ultimately compelled Spruance to transfer his flag to the battleship New Mexico. Meanwhile, the frogmen completed their last demolition operations at Hagushi, and the final preliminary bombardment of Okinawa and the Sakishima Islands was executed successfully. By the end of the month, over 13,000 large-caliber shells had been fired in the shore bombardment, and approximately 3,095 sorties had been conducted against the Ryukyus. However, effective Japanese concealment prevented significant damage to Ushijima's defenses. As night fell, a vast fleet of transports, cargo ships, landing craft, and warships navigated the final miles of their long journey, successfully meeting off the Hagushi beaches in the East China Sea before dawn on April 1. While Turner's forces prepared for the landing, a fire support group consisting of 10 battleships, 9 cruisers, 23 destroyers, and 177 gunboats began the pre-landing bombardment of the beaches at 05:30, firing a total of 44,825 rounds of shells, 33,000 rockets, and 22,500 mortar shells. In response, the Japanese launched some scattered kamikaze attacks on the convoys, successfully hitting the transport Hinsdale and LST 884. At 07:45, carrier planes from Task Force 58 and Blandy's carriers targeted the beaches and nearby trenches with napalm. Fifteen minutes later, the first wave of amphibious tanks advanced toward the shore at four knots, followed closely by five to seven waves of assault troops in amphibious tractors. Alongside the primary landings, Major-General Thomas Watson's 2nd Marine Division staged a feigned landing on the southeast coast of Okinawa, near Minatoga, aiming to distract the enemy's reserves in that region. Meanwhile, on the main front, supported by rocket fire from LCI gunboats and artillery fire from Keisejima, a nearly continuous line of landing craft advanced toward the beaches at 08:20. Encountering no resistance, the first waves began to land on their designated beaches at 08:30, with additional troops following closely behind. Within an hour, Geiger's 3rd Amphibious Corps had successfully landed the assault elements of the 6th and 1st Marine Divisions north of the Bishi River, while Hodge's 24th Corps disembarked the 7th and 96th Divisions to the south of the river. The lack of significant opposition, coupled with the rapid disintegration of the untrained 5473 airfield service troops of the 1st Specially Established Regiment under heavy air and artillery bombardment, created a sense of foreboding among the men, prompting them to scout the area cautiously. As before, the enemy's primary response consisted of kamikaze attacks on naval units, resulting in damage to the battleships West Virginia and Tennessee, the British carrier Indefatigable, destroyers Prichett and Vammen, the British destroyer Ulster, the destroyer minelayer Adams, and four other vessels. Returning to Okinawa, after ensuring they were not walking into a trap, the troops began advancing inland while tanks and other support units were brought to the beaches. In the north, Major-General Lemuel Shepherd's 6th Marine Division deployed Colonel Merlin Schneider's 22nd Marines on the isolated Green Beaches and Colonel Alan Shapley's 4th Marines on the Red Beaches near Yontan Airfield. The 4th Marines advanced toward Yontan, encountering only scattered resistance, and quickly secured the objective east of the airfield by 13:00. Meanwhile, Schneider's 3rd Battalion moved through Hanza without opposition, but the 2nd Battalion's progress was hindered as it needed to protect its exposed flank, prompting the 22nd Marines to quickly commit its reserve battalion to maintain their momentum. To the south, Major-General Pedro Del Valle's 1st Marine Division landed Colonel Edward Snedeker's 7th Marines on the Blue Beaches and Colonel John Griebel's 5th Marines on the Yellow Beaches just north of the Bishi River. By 09:45, the 7th Marines on the left had advanced through the village of Sobe, their primary objective, while the 5th Marines were positioned 1,000 yards inland. At this point, it was decided to land the reserve battalions of both regiments, along with Colonel Kenneth Chappell's 1st Marines. With forces arranged in depth and reserves positioned to the right and left, Del Valle's units continued to advance steadily over the rolling terrain as the 11th and 15th Marines artillery units were also being landed. At 13:30, the 4th Marines resumed their advance, facing light resistance on the left but becoming overextended on the right while trying to maintain contact with the 7th Marines. As a result, Shapley landed his reserve battalion to fill this gap, while Shepherd also deployed his reserve 1st Battalion, 29th Marines, to secure the critical northern flank, allowing the 22nd Marines to keep advancing eastward. Meanwhile, further south, Major-General Archibald Arnold's 7th Division disembarked Colonel Frank Pachler's 17th Regiment on the Purple Beaches just south of the Bishi River and Colonel John Finn's 32nd Regiment on the Orange Beaches in front of Kadena Airfield. Both regiments quickly ascended the gentle hills at the landing sites and began advancing eastward. By 10:00, the 27th Regiment had patrols at Kadena Airfield, which was discovered to be empty; by 10:30, the front line was crossing the airstrip. Moments later, it advanced 200 yards beyond, heading towards Cholon. Simultaneously, the 32nd Regiment secured the southwestern edge of Kadena and continued along the road to Kozo. To the south, Major-General James Bradley's 96th Division landed Colonel Michael Halloran's 381st Regiment on the White Beaches in front of Sunabe and Colonel Edwin May's 383rd Regiment on the Brown Beaches at the extreme southern flank. Both regiments moved eastward with the same ease as the other units that day, making significant progress towards Momobaru in the north and successfully capturing Chatan in the south. Additionally, all divisional artillery of the 24th Corps landed early; Hodge's reserve regiments and battalions were successfully brought ashore, and by nightfall, direct-support battalions were in position. By the end of the day, over 60,000 men had landed, suffering only 28 dead, 27 missing, and 104 wounded, thereby establishing a beachhead 15,000 yards long and up to 5,000 yards deep in some areas. Shepherd's Marines paused for the night along a line stretching from Irammiya to the division boundary south of Makibaru, which the 1st Marine Division extended further south to Kadena. Meanwhile, the 7th Division advanced nearly three miles inland, destroying several pillboxes but losing three tanks to mines. The 96th Division secured positions along the river south of Chatan, on the elevated ground northwest of Futema, in the outskirts of Momobaru, and in the hills to the northwest and southwest of Shido. Although there were gaps in the lines in several areas, they were filled by reserve units or weaponry before nightfall. Thus, the Battle of Okinawa, seen by most as the final climactic battle of the Pacific War has only just begun. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. As Gandalf the White once said “The board is set, the pieces are moving. We come to it at last, the great battle of our time.” The battle of Okinawa will become the bloodiest campaign America has ever fought. The soul crushing journey has just begun as the Americans end the last stand of the Japanese in the Pacific War.

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One of the biggest clues that Spring has arrived is the increasing amount of birdsong. One of the true stars of the avian concert at this time of year has to be the Skylark, a bird that performs its songs unlike any other Irish bird.

Buy/Stream: https://overview.fanlink.tv/OVR103-MemoryPalace Skylark triumphantly returns to Overview with his typically bold and cutting edge 'Memory Palace' The Frenchman has been hard at work behind the scenes to bring you a new offering and it does not disappoint. Skylark https://www.facebook.com/skylarkdnb https://www.instagram.com/skylarkdnb https://soundcloud.com/skylark Overview Music https://www.patreon.com/overview https://www.facebook.com/overviewuk https://www.instagram.com/overviewuk https://www.twitter.com/overviewuk https://www.soundcloud.com/overviewuk

Episode 144 of the Truth About Vintage Amps: Flashing Flukes, reflections on NAMM, variable plate capacitors, hot buttered rum (and popcorn!), and more!   Need some help with your tube amps? Be a part of our show by sending your voice memo or written questions to podcast@fretboardjournal.com! Some of the topics discussed this week:  1:13 Jason goes to the NAMM Show, the Dumble relaunch (watch our Instagram video here); Grit Laskin's 'The Stradivari Formula' (link); Wood Wire & Volts (link) 11:49 What's on Skip's bench: A late 1940s Danelectro Vibrovox; Wandre Guitars 20:57 Our sponsors: Grez Guitars; Emerald City Guitars and Amplified Parts! 25:14 A confused Fluke 26 Series III meter trying to measure coils and output transformer windings 33:07 The parallel between an acoustic guitar's soundboard and an amp's speaker; recommended reading: And the Roots of Rhythm Remain by Joe Boyd (link) 39:17 A custom-made, single-ended 10-watt 800 JCM-style amp; variable voltage regulators vs. a variac 44:30 Keggers Got Talent: Walnut-maple cabinets from listener Niel F. (check our Instagram for pics) 47:42 Should I use the variable plate capacitors I pulled from a HAM radio? 51:25 Skip on the phone versus Skip on the mic 52:41 Breaking food news: Cuisinart Microwave Popcorn Maker (Amazon link) 57:19 Neko Case's new memoir, 'The Harder I Fight the More I Love You' (Amazon link) 59:18 A Garnet Lifco "stencil" amp, the Garnet amp book (order link) 1:03:07 Taming a reissue Princeton Reverb, redux; the Joyo American Sound pedal (link) 1:07:31 An idea for the "pedal" room at the 2025 Fretboard Summit: https://fretboardsummit.org 1:11:15 Want to attend a Bay Area amp workshop with Skip this Spring? Email us! 1:11:47 Accidentally creating an arc with the probe when checking plate voltages on power tubes, hot buttered rum 1:17:17 Recommended reading: Conquering the Electron (link); making a pre-amp out of a Silvertone Twin 12; Greenlee knockout punches 1:28:45 Who sent Skip a Skylark?; a Ampeg flip-top with a remote reverb speaker; Bustelo instant coffee; David Barrett's harmonica courses (link); John Vanderslice Hosted by amp tech Skip Simmons and co-hosted/produced by Jason Verlinde of the Fretboard Journal.  Don't forget, we have a Patreon page. Join us to get show updates and get to the front of the question line. 

Hear about travel to Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley as the Amateur Traveler talks to Kathy Condon from the Palm Springs Insider Guide about this desert tourist area she calls home. Why should you go to Palm Springs? Kathy says, "Imagine living in a place where you have 350 days of sunshine. It's hard to explain that how alive Palm Springs is with the arts." Kathy highlights the region's year-round sunshine, boutique hotels, midcentury modern architecture, outdoor adventures, arts and culture, and vibrant dining scene. Below is a detailed guide based on her recommendations: Where to Stay Palm Springs has 75 boutique hotels (50 rooms or less), many with unique themes reflecting the area's midcentury modern charm. Kathy suggests: Alcazar Palm Springs – A stylish boutique hotel within walking distance of downtown Palm Springs. The Skylark, Palm Springs – Features an Airstream trailer check-in and a retro ambiance. The Cole, Palm Springs – A 1960s-inspired hotel with a modernist vibe. ... https://amateurtraveler.com/travel-to-palm-springs-california/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Buy: https://overview.fanlink.tv/OVR103-Eternals Skylark and Blocksberg team up to bring you the evanescent 'Eternals'. Out 21.02 Skylark https://www.facebook.com/skylarkdnb https://www.instagram.com/skylarkdnb https://soundcloud.com/skylark Blocksberg https://www.instagram.com/its.blocksberg/ Overview Music https://www.patreon.com/overview https://www.facebook.com/overviewuk https://www.instagram.com/overviewuk https://www.twitter.com/overviewuk https://www.soundcloud.com/overviewuk

El pianista François Couturier y el violinista Dominique Pifarély tocan 'I loves you, Porgy' de los Gershwin y 'La chanson des vieux amants' de Brel en su reciente disco a dúo 'Preludes and songs'. Además, Bianca Gismonti ('Sanfona', 'A fala da paixão'), Luiz Murá ('Undiú', 'Bahia com H'), Mafalda Minozzi ('Café South American style', 'Eu e a brisa', 'Agua de beber') y Chet Baker ('Skylark').Escuchar audio

Los días 17 y 18 de febrero de 1988, unas semanas antes de fallecer en Amsterdam, el trompetista y vocalista Chet Baker grabó en París, en cuarteto con el pianista Egil Kapstad, el bajista Terje Vennas y el guitarrista Philip Catherine, los temas de un disco que solo se había publicado en Noruega. Ahora con un nuevo título, 'Late night jazz', en una edición de lujo en vinilo de 180 gramos y con fotografías inéditas de la sesión, podemos disfrutar clásicos como 'Skylark', 'If you could see me now', 'How high the moon', 'Makin´whoopeee' -dos tomas distintas-, 'Body and soul' -dos tomas también-, 'Alice in Wonderland', 'Love for sale', 'My foolish heart', 'I want a little girl' o composiciones del pianista como 'The bird form Kapingamarangi', 'Blamann, blammann' y 'Children´s waltz'.Escuchar audio

CAL TJADER GÓZAME ! PERO YA… San Francisco, CA, June, 1980Shoshana, Bye bye blues, Roger's sambaRoger Glenn (fl,perc) Cal Tjader (vib) Mark Levine (p,el-p) Mundell Lowe (g) Robb Fisher (b) Vince Lateano (d,timb) Poncho Sanchez (timb,bgo,cga,perc) SONNY CRISS THIS IS CRISS ! Englewood Cliffs, NJ, October 21, 1966Steve's blues, Skylark, Love for saleSonny Criss (as) Walter Davis, Jr. (p) Paul Chambers (b) Alan Dawson (d) CLIFFORD BROWN / MAX ROACH QUINTET STUDY IN BROWN New York, February 23, 24, 1955Cherokee, Swingin', George's Dilemma, Take The A TrainClifford Brown (tp) Harold Land (ts) Richie Powell (p,arr) George Morrow (b) Max Roach (d) Continue reading Puro Jazz 10 de febrero, 2025 at PuroJazz.

CAL TJADER GÓZAME ! PERO YA… San Francisco, CA, June, 1980Shoshana, Bye bye blues, Roger's sambaRoger Glenn (fl,perc) Cal Tjader (vib) Mark Levine (p,el-p) Mundell Lowe (g) Robb Fisher (b) Vince Lateano (d,timb) Poncho Sanchez (timb,bgo,cga,perc) SONNY CRISS THIS IS CRISS ! Englewood Cliffs, NJ, October 21, 1966Steve's blues, Skylark, Love for saleSonny Criss (as) Walter Davis, Jr. (p) Paul Chambers (b) Alan Dawson (d) CLIFFORD BROWN / MAX ROACH QUINTET STUDY IN BROWN New York, February 23, 24, 1955Cherokee, Swingin', George's Dilemma, Take The A TrainClifford Brown (tp) Harold Land (ts) Richie Powell (p,arr) George Morrow (b) Max Roach (d) Continue reading Puro Jazz 10 de febrero, 2025 at PuroJazz.

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How can aviation achieve zero-emission flight without compromising performance and range? What does it take to build the next generation of electric aircraft from the ground up? Aviation is at a crossroads, with sustainability emerging as a critical goal for the industry. But what does the future hold for electric aviation, and how can it achieve zero-emission flight while meeting commercial demands? In this episode of Pioneers, the Siemens Startup Podcast, host Kevin Blevins speaks with Christopher Chahine, the co-founder and CEO of Cosmic Aerospace. Christopher shares his journey from researching fluid dynamics at the von Karman Institute and the University of Oxford to founding Cosmic Aerospace, a company dedicated to creating ultra-efficient, all-electric passenger aircraft with long flight ranges.  Together, they discuss the challenges and opportunities in building sustainable aviation technology, from overcoming range limitations to navigating FAA certification. Christopher also highlights the importance of leveraging Siemens' advanced tools, such as STAR CCM+ and Femap, in bringing Skylark's innovative design to life. Listeners will discover how Cosmic Aerospace's Skylark aircraft is poised to revolutionize regional aviation with its zero-emission, highly efficient design and why embracing current battery technology without betting on miracles is a cornerstone of their strategy.  What You'll Learn in This Episode: The dangers associated with aviation CO2 emissions ( 06:00 ) Characteristics and capabilities of the new Skylark electric aircraft ( 10:30 ) The significance of a clean-sheet design for electric aircraft efficiency (11:00) Key milestones in Cosmic Aerospace's journey ( 16:00 ) The design philosophy with regards to battery technology ( 25:30 )  The outcome of test flights and subscale aircrafts ( 30:00 ) Plans and strategy around production and ensuring affordability and maintainability ( 33:50 ) Why did Aerospace choose to use Siemens products? ( 35:30 ) Christopher's advice for budding entrepreneurs in the aerospace industry ( 36:50 ) Connect with us Christopher Chahine LinkedIn Website Kevin Blevins LinkedIn Website

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Choice Classic Radio presents Lux Radio Theater which aired from 1934 to 1955. Today we bring to you the episode titled "Skylark.” Please consider supporting our show by becoming a patron at  http://choiceclassicradio.com We hope you enjoy the show!

Send us a textPicture this: It's Christmas Eve 1984, and outside your home sits an unexpected gift—a 1971 Buick Skylark, your first car! As we travel back to that exhilarating moment, you'll feel the thrill of youthful freedom as I recount installing a pricey stereo system and turning the Skylark into a mobile hub of adventure and camaraderie. Next, we discuss Def Leppard drummer, Rick Allen's horrific car crash 40 years ago and how his determination and an electronic drum kit has kept him rocking all these years.But that's not all. We take a step back to the birth of VH1 on January 1, 1985. Reflect with me on the first ten music videos that hit the airwaves and the quirky stories behind them, including Burt Bacharach's unexpected role in one of the classics. Relive the glory days of music television, laugh at Stevie Wonder's looped love song story, and cherish the unforgettable moments from beloved VH1 shows such as "Pop-Up Video" and "Behind the Music."As the journey progresses, we'll revisit the comical chaos of the Y2K scare, the Snoop Dogg Bowl, and a legendary Ramones concert with Amy Carter. Reflect on the legacy of bands like The Zombies and The Pretenders while uncovering intriguing connections like those of Chrissie Hynde. "Music in My Shoes" where music and memories intertwine.Learn Something New orRemember Something OldPlease Like and Follow our Facebook and Instagram page at Music In My Shoes. You can contact us at musicinmyshoes@gmail.com.

Award winning, YA author, Robin Benway hits a homerun with this fun middle grade debut, THE GIRLS OF SKYLARK LANE about friendship, sisterhood and growing up. Author of 7 critically acclaimed YA novels, Benway has been published in more than 25 countries and now sets her sights on examining girl “tween” power. Aggie and Jac might be twin sisters, but lately they haven't felt the same about anything. While Jac is excited about their move to Los Angeles and a chance to seem cool and mysterious, Aggie is worried her new locker won't open, that Jac could make new friends without her, and that her friends from home will move on, leaving her all alone.When the first day at school ends with an invite to join the neighborhood softball team, Aggie jumps at the chance to meet the other girls, even if she has to drag along Jac, whose own interest in the softball team might have more to do with the captain's older brother…  Aggie is relieved to learn that each girl is dealing with their own problems and becomes excited at the opportunity to create strong friendships. But as Jac and Aggie grow into different people, will they be able to hold on to their sisterhood? For life throws the biggest curveball of all: growing up. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-unplugged-totally-uncut--994165/support.

Stan Hugill was known in his lifetime as the ‘Last Working Shantyman' and became a guardian of the tradition of maritime music. Stan had a colourful and eventful life. He spent 23 years at sea including a stint as the official shantyman on board the steel four-masted barque Garthpool, the last British commercial sailing ship. In the Second World War he worked as the helmsman on the ss Automedon which was sunk by a German auxiliary cruiser and led to Stan being held as a prisoner of war for four years. In later life he taught sailing skills in Wales and aboard the sail-training vessel Pamir. In these years Stan began to write down the shanties he had learned, authoring several books, recording several albums and regularly performing in public. He became something of a star in the British folk scene anchoring a BBC show Dance and Skylark in the 1960s ‘featuring The Spinners with Bosun Stan Hugill who welcomes friends and visitors aboard his old Sailing Barque.' To find out more Dr Sam Willis spoke with Mollie Carlyle, a historian of maritime music with an encyclopaedic knowledge of her own and an expert on Stan's life. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The Eurasian skylark isn't the flashiest bird to behold, but its courtship song packs a melodic punch.

Robin's website Far from the Tree Our Books for Children and Young Adults:Flying Lessons & Other Stories Edited by Ellen Oh; Kelly's short story in this middle grade anthology is “The Beans and Rice Chronicles of Isaiah Dunn.”Isaiah Dunn Is My Hero by Kelly J. BaptistIsaiah Dunn Saves the Day by Kelly J. BaptistThe Electric Slide and Kai by Kelly J. Baptist; Illustrated by Darnell JohnsonThe Swag is in the Socks by Kelly J. BaptistEb & Flow by Kelly J. BaptistReady, Set, Dough! by Kelly J. BaptistSee You in the Cosmos by Jack ChengThe Many Masks of Andy Zhou by Jack ChengJumped In by Patrick Flores-ScottAmerican Road Trip by Patrick Flores-ScottNo Going Back by Patrick Flores-ScottThe Griffins of Castle Cary by Heather ShumakerFind us online:Kelly J. Baptist: kellyiswrite.comJack Cheng: jackcheng.comPatrick Flores-Scott: patrickfloresscott.comHeather Shumaker: heathershumaker.comContact us: hello@booksmitten.usX/Twitter: @booksmittenpod Produced by Jack ChengMusic by Duck Duck Chicken

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Award winning, YA author, Robin Benway hits a homerun with this fun middle grade debut, THE GIRLS OF SKYLARK LANE about friendship, sisterhood and growing up. Author of 7 critically acclaimed YA novels, Benway has been published in more than 25 countries and now sets her sights on examining girl “tween” power. Aggie and Jac might be twin sisters, but lately they haven't felt the same about anything. While Jac is excited about their move to Los Angeles and a chance to seem cool and mysterious, Aggie is worried her new locker won't open, that Jac could make new friends without her, and that her friends from home will move on, leaving her all alone.When the first day at school ends with an invite to join the neighborhood softball team, Aggie jumps at the chance to meet the other girls, even if she has to drag along Jac, whose own interest in the softball team might have more to do with the captain's older brother…  Aggie is relieved to learn that each girl is dealing with their own problems and becomes excited at the opportunity to create strong friendships. But as Jac and Aggie grow into different people, will they be able to hold on to their sisterhood? For life throws the biggest curveball of all: growing up.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-like-it-s-live--4113802/support.

Join us in this episode as the girls dive into the captivating world of Laura Ann Langston's journey in The Skylark's Apprentice. Set against the backdrop of a 1937 America grappling with the fallout of the Great Rust, we explore the tension between traditional mystical arts and the rise of Mechomancy. Tune in as we unpack the struggles and triumphs of a young mage determined to carve her own path amidst a society divided. Don't miss our insights into the enigmatic Skylark and the challenges they face on their first mission—because in this world, magic might just be the key to survival.

This introduction takes us through my history of both reading and watching science fiction and fantasy, and perforce introduces many of the topics I will explore in more depth. Links: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Swift https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_A._Heinlein_bibliography https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isaac_Asimov https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._E._Smith https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lensman_series https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skylark_(series) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Family_D%27Alembert http://www.stephengoldin.com/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordon_Eklund https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lord_of_the_Rings https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hobbit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andre_Norton https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragonriders_of_Pern https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_McCaffrey https://www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/retcon-history-and-meaning https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0052520/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Outer_Limits_(1963_TV_series) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_in_Space https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0062622/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_Who https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_The_Motion_Picture https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chronicles_of_Amber https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roger_Zelazny https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Night_in_the_Lonesome_October https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapphire_%26_Steel https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Piketty https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_in_the_Twenty-First_Century https://www.palain.com/science-fiction/

Send us a Text Message.What was it like doing church production at Elevation in the early days? Andy Bentley joins us to discuss his church tech times at Elevation, pacing production stress, and creating a creative process that works. In this episode you'll hear: 1:00 Inside baseball: ChurchGear Leadership Quarterly 5:00 Andy Bentley joins us! (Elevation & Skylark) 11:50 Staying up 60 hours straight for production 17:00 Andy's church tech background 23:30 What was it like doing church production at Elevation? 27:30 Is Elevation Worship the same team as the Sunday morning team? 32:30 How do you keep your cool in high stress production moments?37:30 How do you put creative processes in place in church production? 44:30 Disaster story: “We were hanging them above their heads” 49:20 Tech Takeaway: Don't chase the sexy stuff 51:35 Church Tech Confessional: ProPresenter fail Resources for your Church Tech MinistryDoes your church have used gear that you need to convert into new ministry dollars? We can make you an offer here. Do you need some production gear but lack the budget to buy new gear? You can get Certified Church Owned gear here.  Connect with us: Follow us on FacebookHang out with us on InstagramSee all the ways we can serve your church on our WebsiteGet our best gear sent to your inbox each Monday before it goes public via the Early Service

Send us a Text Message.Yal already know was up & we got @chrisskylark97 in here

Hello again dear listeners. I know it's been some time since I released a new episode of The Skylark Bell, but I believe you'll feel it was worth the wait as you listen to this strange, uncanny tale I cooked up after a solo train ride to Inverness while visiting Scotland earlier this year.Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveriContact: theskylarkbell@gmail.comThe Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.comThe Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbellAuthor/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.comAll music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.comCannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.musicFULL TRANSCRIPT:Things with Wings Productions presents: I Met Him on the Train - A Special Episode written exclusively for The Skylark Bell podcast. I'm your host, Melissa Oliveri.   Hello again dear listeners. I know it's been some time since I released a new episode of The Skylark Bell, but I believe you'll feel it was worth the wait as you listen to this strange, uncanny tale I cooked up. I found myself once again staying with my dear little friend Russell the cat this week, and he once again worked his magic. I wrote this story over the course of 2 days, pulling inspiration from a recent trip to Scotland where I set off on my own on a 3 hour long train ride each way from Stirling to Inverness. Russell kept me company into the night and in the early morning hours as I followed the winding path of the story that came spinning out of me. It started as a title: I Met Him on the Train... then I had to sort out the details. Who did I meet? What did they do? Why was it important? What happens next? And after that? And finally, how does the story end? All those questions will be answered... well, sort of, if you've listened this far into the podcast, you know I'm not one to wrap things up with a tidy little bow, I much prefer to leave room for interpretation, and imagination. Before we dive into the story, I'd one again like to thank Lauren and Rachel for the use of their apartment over the course of this week. The opportunity to house and cat sit for them gave me the calm and space I needed to write. And now, at last, it is my pleasure to invite you to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink, or perhaps, if it is also warm where you are, turn on a fan and grab an ice cold lemonade, and let's get started. ----------- I met him on the train It was a Tuesday morning, and I was running late. The trains had been delayed due to flooding on the tracks after days and days of torrential downpours. I didn't notice him at first, and in fairness, when I eventually did, there was nothing much to notice. He was quite an ordinary man, not memorable in any particular way. I had headphones on and was staring out the window as the train barrelled North. I admired the landscape stretching out in a blur of greens, browns, and yellows as the sun rose over the Scottish Highlands. His presence came to my attention at a quaint little station about halfway between Glasgow and Inverness when I heard him say “G'day,” while my playlist was between songs. I turned from the window to glance at the seat across from me.  Average height from what I could tell with him sitting down. Non-descript features, civilian clothes in neutral colours. Everything about him was... the word generic comes to mind. Never in a million years would I have guessed... well, that will come later. Our gazes crossed paths, and he held fast, staring into my eyes in a way that made it impossible for me to look away. His facial expression, like the rest of him, was completely neutral. I felt a mounting desire to get up and change seats but found myself paralysed by his unwavering stare. Finally, he blinked, smiled a plastic sort of smile, and the spell was broken. Oddly enough, he now looked somewhat friendly and approachable, but with an undercurrent of something terribly, terribly wrong that I couldn't quite put my finger on. “Lovely day we're having after all that rain, don't you think?” he asked.  Something was off. Had his lips moved? I couldn't tell if I'd heard him with my ears or if the words had somehow miraculously been channelled directly into my brain. I nodded silently, still locked firmly in my seat by some invisible force, whether from an outside source or a mechanism inside my body I couldn't tell. “Wonderful town, Inverness, I think you'll quite enjoy it,” he mentioned, casually. Again, I couldn't tell if his lips had moved. Perhaps he was a ventriloquist? I acquiesced with a single nod.  “Lovely town, Inverness...” he mused, letting the thought trail off as he turned his head to look out the window. I noticed his movements were mechanical in nature, not quite human. The spell broken entirely now, I blinked, and also turned to look out the window. The view outside seemed tinged with an indigo tone that hadn't been there before, as though someone had painted over the window with a thin layer of watercolour. Suddenly a thought occurred to me, “How did you know I was going to Inverness?” I asked, turning to look back at him. I stared in shock at the empty seat across from me. My eyes scanned the train car, both in front and behind me, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Had I dreamt him? Yes, that must be it, I must have dozed off with my head leaning on the window, lulled by the steady movement of the train, and had one of those strange dreams brought on by weeks of insomnia and a diet comprised mostly of chips and curry.  I chuckled sheepishly and turned my gaze back to the outside world. The train was immobilised at a small-town station. I let my eyes travel from left to right at the people waiting on the platform, first noting a middle-aged woman with mass of red hair cascading down her shoulders, her coral sundress was blowing in the breeze. Next to her stood a tall man in shorts and a hoodie with a backpack slung over his shoulder, the two looked like they'd struck up a friendly conversation, both flashing shy smiles at one another. My gaze travelled the empty space between them and landed on the third and last person standing on the platform. My stomach churned as I saw the man who, only moments before, had been sitting across from me. I felt the cognitive dissonance shake me to my core as I watched him stand patiently waiting to get on the train. The train doors hadn't opened yet, he couldn't have gotten off the train and onto the platform in the time since I'd last seen him in his seat. The long signal tone sounded and the doors to the train cars slid open. The man in the hoodie and woman in the coral sundress entered the car behind me, and the impossible man climbed into mine. I watched, fixated, stunned silent, shaken, as he made his way down the aisle and slid into the seat across from mine.  “G'day,” he said with a nod. He seemed completely normal. So normal it felt abnormal. His tone was normal, his face was normal, his smile was normal... not a sign of the strangeness the previous iteration of him had been drenched in. He also didn't have that strange hold on me, and I found myself able to respond to him and, thankfully, move. I shifted in my seat and nodded a greeting back at him. “Are you traveling for work or for pleasure?” he asked in a friendly, casual tone. “I'm taking the day to explore Inverness,” I replied, reeling at the impossibility of the situation.  “Wonderful town, Inverness, I think you'll quite enjoy it,” he commented, striking fear in my heart as I recognised the words his doppelganger had uttered before suddenly vanishing only a short while ago. “There's a bookstore there,” he carried on conversationally, as though nothing was amiss... but so, so much was amiss. “It's called...” his voice trailed off and his eyes lifted toward the roof of the train car as he scanned his memory, “...Peakey's... Peakey's Book Shop. It's slightly off the beaten path, but you should take the time to find it.”  He paused briefly before carrying on, “Would you like to know the secret to writing a great story?” he asked. I provided an uncertain nod in response. It was uncanny that he should ask me that, I'd been suffering from writer's block for months, and looming deadlines from my publisher had caused an endless string of sleepless nights. If this strange man on the train had the secret to breaking the curse, I was willing to listen.  “Enduring curiosity,” he replied, his mouth curling into a knowing smile. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes; the surreal conversation was over.  We didn't speak the rest of the way. The train eventually pulled into the station at Inverness and we both got off. I had every intention of following him out of the station to see where he'd go, but he disappeared into the crowd like a plume of smoke dissipates into the wind. I walked out of the station and marvelled at the architecture of the buildings across the street. I had put together an itinerary, but decided to cast it aside in favour of getting lost in the streets and maybe stopping somewhere for lunch if it suited my fancy.  I pushed through crowds of tourists, my eyes scanning for a way out of the madness. “I wonder where this goes?” I said out loud as I veered into a narrow alleyway between two stone buildings. I got to the end of the alleyway and gasped at the view. A joyful smile immediately spread across my face; I had forgotten how much I loved exploring a new city on my own.  Spread out in front of me was a river with three bridges stretching across it, each with their own architectural style. At the far end, on my side of the river, I saw a castle mostly covered in scaffolding. I had read it was under renovation and had no plans to waste my time trying to get a good view through the construction fence, so I forged ahead and walked across the bridge closest to me. The view from the opposing shoreline was lovely. I noticed a series of old buildings and church steeples peeking out from the lush green of the treeline that stretched along the river on the other side. That was one advantage to all the rain we'd had, vegetation was flourishing. I walked along the road that ran parallel to the river until I came to a pedestrian bridge and crossed back toward Inverness. Once back on the other side I decided on a whim to walk toward one of the churches, and discovered a small graveyard tucked away behind it after following a narrow winding trail forged between a stone wall and a row of shrubs. I'd always liked a quiet walk through a graveyard, exploring the inscriptions on the gravestones, wondering about the lives lead by the people buried there. I spent more time in the graveyard than I should have, and my shoes and socks took on water as the overgrown grass was drenched from recent downpours. At the very back of the graveyard, I noticed a tall, slim gravestone with a tangled mass of vines on top. Intrigued, I gingerly made my way over to it. I was surprised to discover, upon closer inspection, that the tangled mass of vines was, in reality, a large bird's nest. I stood on my tippy toes to try and see the contents, but it was too high for me to get a good view. I sighed and took a step back to look at the gravestone, and noticed a faint series of letters mostly covered by a layer of moss. I gently ran my hand over the stone and watched as the moss crumbled to the ground. I gave the stone a series of quick wipes with my palm and squinted to read the inscription. My brow furrowed in concentration as I tried to decipher the name engraved on the stone, but time and the elements had rendered it illegible. Beneath it, however, were the words Lived a life of enduring curiosity, and underneath that: 1905-1974. Enduring curiosity: The same words the man on the train had said to me. I shuddered involuntarily at the memory of him and his doppelganger. A cold drop of rain landed on my cheek, startling me back to the present moment. I looked up at the sky and noticed a band of dark clouds had rolled in while I was busy inspecting the gravestone. I turned and began walking away when a loud screech made me turn on my heel in shock. The bird was huge, I'd never seen one like it. I stared in awe as it landed in the nest, pulling its massive wingspan closed as it curled up and all but disappeared behind the tangle of branches and dry grass. Its colouring was mostly grey and black, and its size imposing, but its most striking feature was its eyes, which were the colour of garnet stone. I shivered and scurried out of the graveyard, exiting through a different gate than the one I had come through on the way in. The rainfall was gaining momentum now, and I turned to look down each end of the small, deserted street I found myself on, desperately looking for shelter. To the left I saw an easel on the pavement with an arrow pointing toward a green door. Whatever business it was, I'd find a reason to be in it if it got me out of the rain. I half jogged down the street to the door and quickly pulled it open. The smell of old books hit me immediately, and I took a step back through the still open door, braving the rain to read the sign above it: Peakey's Book Store. Discomfort set it immediately. The man on the train had told me about this place, and there was something wrong with the man on the train. I took a few steps into the bookstore and stopped to get my bearings. Row upon row of floor-to-ceiling shelving lined the tiny, cramped shop, every shelf filled to the brim with books, and piles of overstock books on the floor next to them. At the center of the store a metal spiral staircase extended to a second-storey mezzanine, also lined edge to edge with books, and also with droves of books stacked on the floor. I checked the signage, the books appeared to be divided by Fiction, Non-Fiction, and Children's Books. I decided to check the children's books first, hoping to find a vintage copy of Alice in Wonderland with original illustrations. I scanned the 3 bookcases in the section from top to bottom, but though there were many copies, I didn't find quite the edition I was looking for. Next, I wandered to a series of shelves labeled Fiction and found they were sorted by author name. I looked for Daphne DuMaurier, one of my favourites, but the three books of hers they had were ones I already owned.  I carried on perusing the store, row by row, shelf by shelf, pile by pile... Not looking for anything in particular, but rather enjoying the warmth of the shop and the endless possibilities within the pages of each and every book. I was also keeping an eye on the weather through the store's only window, which provided a narrow glimpse of the outside world. I wasn't sure how much time I'd spent in the shop, but eventually it looked like the sky was clearing and I decided it was time to head out. I gingerly made my way around the piles of books on the floor and was about to leave when a small book haphazardly placed on top of the checkout counter caught my eye. I picked it up and read the title out loud: “I Met Him on the Train”. It was a relatively small book, hardcover with a dustjacket that featured a view of the Scottish Highlands through a train window. I turned the book over in my hands, noting there was no author listed anywhere on the cover. My curiosity aroused; I cracked the book open to the first page...                    I met him on the train It was a Tuesday morning, and I was running late. The trains had been delayed due to flooding on the tracks after days and days of torrential downpours. I didn't notice him at first, and in fairness, when I eventually did, there was nothing much to notice. He was quite an ordinary man, not memorable in any particular way. I had headphones on and was staring out the window as the train barrelled North. I admired the landscape stretching out in a blur of greens, browns, and yellows as the sun rose over the Scottish Highlands. His presence came to my attention at a quaint little station about halfway between Glasgow and Inverness when I heard him say “G'day,” while my playlist was between songs. I turned from the window to glance at the seat across from me.  Average height from what I could tell with him sitting down. Non-descript features, civilian clothes in neutral colours. Everything about him was... the word generic comes to mind. Never in a million years would I have guessed... well, that will come later. Our gazes crossed paths, and he held fast, staring into my eyes in a way that made it impossible for me to look away. His facial expression, like the rest of him, was completely neutral. I felt a mounting desire to get up and change seats but found myself paralysed by his unwavering stare. Finally, he blinked, smiled a plastic sort of smile, and the spell was broken. Oddly enough, he now looked somewhat friendly and approachable, but with an undercurrent of something terribly, terribly wrong that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  “Lovely day we're having after all that rain, don't you think?” he asked.  I slammed the book closed, my heart racing. What in the world? How could this book in a tiny second-hand bookstore on a quiet street in Northern Scotland be describing the exact series of events that had transpired earlier in the day? I worked to regain control of my functions, and with still-shaking hands reopened the book. I scanned through the pages, and sure enough, the rest of my journey was described in detail. Meeting the first man's doppelganger, walking the streets of Inverness, crossing the first bridge, coming back across the river and exploring the graveyard, the large bird with the garnet eyes, and finally, finding the bookstore. I tentatively turned the page.I'm not sure how much time I spent in the shop, but eventually it looked like the sky was clearing and I decided it was time to head out. I gingerly made my way around the piles of books on the floor and was about to leave when a small book at the end of the checkout counter caught my eye. I picked it up and read the title out loud: “I Met Him on the Train”. It was a relatively small book, hardcover with a dustjacket that featured a view of the Scottish Highlands through a train window. I turned the book over in my hands, noting there was no author listed anywhere on the cover. My curiosity aroused; I cracked the book open to the first page and was shocked to find my own story written and bound within its pages.  I slammed the book closed, my heart racing. After a few minutes of working to regain control of my functions, and with still-shaking hands, I reopened the book. I scanned through the pages, and sure enough, the rest of my journey was described in detail. I carried on reading, finally reaching the point where the book crossed into the future.  Again, the racing heart. Did I want to know what would happen next? I stared at the last paragraph for a solid minute before turning the page.I glanced up from the book's pages, troubled and more than a little uneasy. Suddenly, I came to a realisation that sent me reeling. Every patron in the bookstore looked like the man from the train...  My brow furrowed in confusion. What?? I had noticed a woman with a little boy in the children's books when I first came in, and I had crossed paths with a young couple as I came down the stairs just a few minutes ago, what was this book talking about?! Every fiber in my body was begging me not to look up, but the process was unstoppable. I slowly lifted my head and tore my gaze from the book's inexplicable pages. At the back of the store, I saw a man climbing a ladder to reach for a book on one of the top shelves; from the back he was wearing ordinary clothes and looked to be of average height. I glanced at the second-floor mezzanine and saw a man sifting through a series of war books. I could see his profile and felt a mounting sense of dread rise from the pit of my stomach. My breath caught in my throat as I scanned the remainder of the bookshop. The man crouched on the floor sifting through a pile of paperbacks, the man in the children's section holding an antique book up to the light, the man walking up the stairs in the most ordinary way... all of them identical, and all with the same unsettling mechanical movements and neutral facial expression as the first man from the train. “Wonderful town, Inverness, I trust you've enjoyed it?” came a voice from behind me. I recognized it instantly and had to fight the urge to run. I slowly turned to face the man from the train. The second one, the one who made casual conversation and moved in a human way, the one who had life in his eyes. He was standing behind the checkout counter with a receipt pad in his hand, a gleam in his eye and a smile only slightly teasing the corner of his mouth.“I... I'd like to purchase this book,” I stuttered, stumbling over my words. I felt the room spin, the endless supply of books melding into a blur of paper, dust, and typeface.He nodded and leaned on the counter to write up my receipt. I leaned on the counter to catch my balance. The man folded the receipt in half, then straightened his body and extended his arm across the counter to hand it to me.  I gingerly took the paper from his grasp as I reached my other hand into my pocket to grab my wallet. I unfolded the receipt to check the total, but was instead greeted with a short, two-word message: Enduring Curiosity. Confused, I looked back up at the man, but he was gone. I turned to scan the bookstore, only to find it completely deserted save for the endless assortment of books lining its walls and piled on its floor. I slipped his receipt into the book and tucked it under my jacket for safekeeping, I didn't trust the Scottish weather to behave for very long, and I didn't want the book getting wet. I stepped out onto the street and saw a handful of people milling about, to my great relief each one appeared to be an individual. A woman carrying a bin full of books bustled past me and entered the bookstore, I heard someone inside greet her, it was not the man from the train. I shook my head and carried on down the street, meandering through the heart of Inverness. I wandered into a place called Victorian Market, which contained a food hall. I circled every booth and settled on one that was serving Cullen Skink, a traditional Scottish chowder which I hadn't had an opportunity to try yet. It was wonderful. I meandered through the market's various shops and restaurants, then carried on exploring until I found a small bakery tucked at the end of a narrow side street. I selected two delectable pastries that would serve as my lunch. I sat on a park bench to savour my dessert and take in the view, then eventually made my way to the station to catch the last train back to Glasgow. I sat in the same seat I had sat in on the way to Inverness and stared out the window, listening to music as the landscape outside went scurrying by in a blur of green, brown, and yellow as the sun set on the Highlands. I was sitting backwards this time, always a strange sensation. The train stopped at several small towns, the same ones it had stopped at on the way North. Between two songs I heard someone say, “Good evening.” I looked up to see the man from the train, once again sitting across from me. I felt no shock this time, I simply smiled at him. “Lovely town, Inverness...” he mused, looking out the window.“Indeed, it is, a place filled with enduring curiosity,” I said. He didn't turn to look back at me, but his reflection in the window gave me a glimpse of the smile teasing the corner of his mouth. I turned to look out the window myself, wondering what was behind the mountains in the distance, wondering what would happen tomorrow, wondering whether the man on the train would disappear again in a moment.The man did not disappear from the train, he got off a few stops before mine like an ordinary person. We didn't speak or make eye contact again before he left. I scanned the platform after he got off, curious to see which direction he would go, if anyone would be there to greet him, or if his doppelganger would then climb into my train car and take his place, but he vanished into the crowd like a plume of smoke dissipates into the wind, and his replacement never came.As the train neared Glasgow, I pulled the small, strange, book from inside my jacket. “I met him on the train,” I whispered as I ran my finger over the letters in the title. I gently cracked the book open, only to find every page completely blank. My story was, as of yet, unwritten... but I now knew the secret to writing a great story: Enduring curiosity. I pulled a pen from my bag and got started:  I met him on the train... ----------Thank you so much for listening, I truly hope you enjoyed I Met Him on the Train, an original story written exclusively for The Skylark Bell podcast.  If you enjoyed this episode, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon. Patreon supporters get early access to ad-free podcast episodes, digital downloads of my  music, and so much more. It's the first place I share my creations. However, if you prefer not to subscribe, but would like to make a one-time contribution, you can do so via your podcast platform. Any and all financial support is greatly appreciated.Once again, thank you for listening – I'm Melissa Oliveri, writer, composer, and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/theskylarkbell/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

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We recorded a couple of our Casual Friday events at the Skylark here in Denver, so we've got 8 new episodes coming your way, starting with this one. This episode finds us on April 26, 2024 at 5 PM. This was live and all-vinyl so it may sound a little rough in patches. PLAYLIST:

The Sundilla Radio Hour for the week of 04/08/2024 featuring: Avery Hill “God Save the Watchman” Dreams & Ghosts: A Family Album (2015 Avery Hill) 4:47 Dawn Landes “The Housewife's Lament (1866)” The Liberated Woman's Songbook (2024 FunMachine) 5:32 Sam Gleaves & Tyler Hughes “Bread and Roses”Sam Gleaves & Tyler Hughes (2017 Community Music) 3:13 Valerie June “Big Dream” My Black Country: The Songs of Alice Randall (2024 Oh Boy) 2:23 Noel McKay “An Old Cowboy in Spain” You Only Live Always (2024 McKay Records) 2:30 Crowes Pasture “You At Every Age” Don't Blink (2023 Crowes Pasture) 3:25 Jay Linden “Boat on a River” Ordinary Sunrise (2023 Jay Linden) 2:39 Pat Wictor “What If?” Flare (2022 Pat Wictor) 3:51 Red Molly “Rain” One for All & All for One (2018 Red Molly) 3:38 The Maudlin Brothers “The Old Home Brew” Highway of Sorrow (1997 Skylark) 3:19 Amythyst Kiah “Firewater” Wary + Strange (2021 Rounder) 3:38 Peter Mulvey “500 Days” More Notes From Elsewhere (2024 Peter Mulvey) 2:47 Tiffany Williams “When I'm Gone” When You Go (2019 Tiffany Williams) 3:19 David Jacobs-Strain & Bob Beach “Higher” The Belfry Session (2023 David Jacobs-Strain) 3:21

This week's host, Moe Roddy, is joined by Kristi and Bob Hanelt, who sailed Skylark around the world from February 26, 1972 to July 20, 1974. They covered 31,106 nautical miles and visited 102 ports or anchorages. Hear stories of how they met and became interested in sailing, what planning looked like for their voyage around the globe, their favorite stops along the way, some of the scary moments, and their top highlight of the whole journey. Watch Owed to a Skylark at https://youtu.be/c-V2RlAWMWM?si=nGvlMPfO8mG-PLcQ

We begin our trip to South Carolina with the first of two guests from Columbia. Meet Air Force Jazz musician Tim Leahey and his music including songs No, I Don't Fly Planes, Skylark and Night Has A Thousand Eyes

We have a very special episode for you. On location at the Skylark in West Seattle! I sit down with the NightCry and talk before their Seattle debut show. I had a blast sitting down with these 5 extremely talented people. Give a listen as we discuss their upcoming album, their recently released music videos, what they do for fun, and who is the most competitive amongst them. 

This week, we visit Skylark Bookshop in Columbia, MO, named one of 150 bookstores you need to visit before you die. Owner and novelist Alex George discusses the inspiration and mission of Skylark, as well as the city's prominent Unbound Book Festival, which he founded, happening this spring.Books We Talk About: Splinters by Leslie Jamison, Still Life by Sarah Winman, Now is Not the Time to Panic by Kevin Wilson, and The Book of Delights by Ross Gay.

In episode 198 of the EYE ON SCI-FI podcast, Rod reviews and discusses a sci-fi short film titled ‘Melody Skylark And The Cosmic Soup,' a light-hearted and fun sci-fi romp featuring an average woman navigating extraordinary events. Also mentioned is the new EYE ON SCI-FI Newsletter. This ‘micro' newsletter offers subscribers a single sci-fi or speculative gem every Monday through Friday. Each newsletter can be read in under 60 seconds.To subscribe to the newsletter, explore the podcast archive, support the podcast, and more, visit EYE ON SCI-FI Link Tree.

You are on high country farm road in the Hakataramea Valley in deepest South Canterbury, New Zealand. Skylark song pours from the heavens, cascading over paddocks of ewes with noisy lambs at foot. BBC Countryfile Magazine's Sound Escapes are a weekly audio postcard from the countryside to help you relax and transport you somewhere beautiful, wherever you happen to be. Recorded by Nick Allen. Image by Getty. Email the Plodcast team – and send your sound recordings of the countryside – to: editor@countryfile.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The Man with a Storm in His Eyes – Volume 4NOTE: If you have not listened to Volumes 1, 2 and 3 of this 4-part miniseries, please pause this episode, and go listen to the first three installments, otherwise the story won't make much sense.Over Thanksgiving I spent a few days house- and cat-sitting for a friend. The moment I met Russell the cat I was completely charmed by the milky cloudiness of his eyes. What fascinated me most was that he appeared to be able to see just fine... to the point where sometimes he appeared to be seeing things that I myself couldn't see. I found myself inspired and fully credit Russell with breaking through my writer's block.This story is available in written form in its entirety exclusively to Patreon Supporters, visit the link below to join.Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveriContact: theskylarkbell@gmail.comThe Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.comThe Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbellAuthor/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.comAll music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.comCannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.musicFULL TRANSCRIPT:Things with Wings Productions presents: The Man with a Storm in His Eyes - A Skylark Special Miniseries written exclusively for The Skylark Bell podcast. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  Before I begin, if you haven't listened to the first three installments of this story, I strongly suggest you hit pause on this episode and go listen to volumes 1, 2 and 3, otherwise this episode won't make much sense. In last week's episode, Marie broke the sisters' one rule and brewed a cup of the forbidden tea for herself, but she was interrupted by their early return. Disgraced and embarrassed, she returned home... only for the twins to appear outside her window a few days later.Today we conclude this wild and eerie tale... fair warning, the ending made me cry the first time I re-read the story in its entirety.Lastly, I'd like to thank Lauren and Rachel for the use of their apartment over the Thanksgiving holiday. The opportunity to house and cat sit for them gave me the calm and space I needed to to start writing, and in the end, their cat, Russell, provided the inspiration for the story I wanted to write. The spark has grown into a flame, and there are more stories to come in the future, so stay tuned.But for now, it's time to get settled in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink... perhaps a handkerchief, just in case… and let's read the conclusion of The Man with a Storm in His Eyes. The spell broken, I shook my head and scurried down the stairs and out the front door to collect the book they had left behind. I ran my hand over the smoothness of its cover, and noted the leather was embossed with a collection of odd symbols. I clutched the book to my chest and hurried back up to my flat as quickly as my fuzzy slippers would allow, completely oblivious to the neighbours gawking at the sight of me outside in the cold wearing only a short frilly nighty. I threw myself onto the sofa and placed the book on my lap, puzzling over the symbols on the cover before unbuckling its leather strap and cracking it open. I flipped through the book haphazardly and was met with page upon page of tight cursive handwriting. Every so often I would land on a carefully drawn illustration with labels and notations. About halfway through the book I found a folded piece of paper tucked between the pages. I gingerly pulled it out, the ornate handwriting was different than the one filling up the pages of the book. I squinted in concentration as I began to read:Dearest Marie,You must have endless questions about the goings on at 51 Dimly Court. We did not mean for you to get pulled into the vortex of our stormy existence, and I apologise for our poor handling of the situation the day you left. Winifred and I have decided to share with you the story that is neither ours, nor Russell's, nor even little Jones'. The story is our mother's. Her name was Fiona Merriwell, and she was what many would, for better or worse, call... a witch.  Our mother grew up in the “old world”, a time and culture filled with mystique and superstition. It would be easy to brush aside these traditions as hogwash, but as you now know, there was truth to at least some of it. Our maternal grandmother was a gifted seer and would warn people of things to come, or describe things that had happened long before any of them were born. Our mother was always envious of this gift, but her talents lay elsewhere. She was an expert healer and could create concoctions to heal most ailments common in her time. Her one wish, however, was to find a way to recreate her mother's capabilities using her knowledge of plants, herbs, tinctures, and the like. She made it her life mission... and it cost not only her, but several of us dearly. The teas in the canisters were created by her, and she was the last one to brew a cup, until you came along, of course... but I'm getting ahead of myself. Our mother raised us on her own after our father passed away. She worked odd jobs and kept herself busy making salves and teas to sell at local markets. Behind the scenes, however, she continued to work on her plan to create a tea that would allow her to see through veils of time, and she eventually succeeded, but things did not go as planned. She had just finished perfecting a recipe one day when there was a knock at the door. A young man, sharply dressed in a grey wool suit, stood on our front steps, he was selling top-of-the-line cookware. Our mother, always willing to indulge young entrepreneurs, invited him in and put the kettle on. She was fully intending to simply listen to his presentation, but as their conversation wore on an idea crossed her mind. The young man mentioned that his brother had recently passed away, and that he missed his him terribly, and wished he could see him again, if only for a moment. The gears in our mother's mind began turning; if she served her tea to the young man and it was effective, it might provide him with an opportunity to see his brother again, and if it failed, he would be none-the-wiser and would simply have enjoyed a nice cup of tea, no harm done.I must say at this point that our mother was neither conniving nor cruel, she was entirely under the impression that the effects of the tea would be temporary, there was no way for her to know her spontaneous decision and, ironically, lack of foresight would change the course of all our lives.And so it was that Russell J. Holcomb, luxury cookware salesman, came to sit at our kitchen table and drink the tea our mother had aptly named Violet Storm. He remained in our kitchen for a few hours, demonstrating his goods. Winifred and I came home our jobs at the hospital partway through his sales pitch and sat at the table listening to him, enthralled. Russell was very charismatic; he would certainly have had a successful career in sales if he had never had the misfortune of knocking on our door. Winifred was especially taken with him; she would later tell me it was his smile that won her over so quickly. Little did she know we would only rarely ever see that smile again.We were there when the tea began to take effect. I remember it so clearly because, unfortunately for Russell, there was a storm brewing outside. Winifred and I had rushed home from work due to the dark, threatening clouds hovering in the sky above. We would later learn that stormy weather exacerbates the effects of this specific tea... but once again, I'm getting ahead of myself. Russell was just finishing a demonstration that involved cooking an omelet, he slid it onto a plate and placed it on the table for us to see. It was then that he stumbled backwards and fell to the floor. His eyes darted back and forth as a mist began to rise in them. He started to shake and pointed at something behind us. The three of us turned in unison, but there was nothing there. Our mother crouched next to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked if he was okay. Through rapid breaths Russell explained that he could see other people, dozens of other people, all semi-transparent, moving throughout the kitchen. Walking, cooking, sitting at the table... he could even see different furniture, and he could see grass on the ground as well as different versions of the kitchen floor, layer upon layer upon layer of the past all visible at once. He let out a scream that still echoes in my mind to this day, then squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his head in his hands shouting, “Make it stop! Please! Make them go away! Make it all go away!”Distraught, our mother wrapped a dishtowel around his eyes and tied it at the back of his head, then lead him to the sofa to lay down and wait until the effect of the tea wore off. Once the storm passed the effects did diminish considerably, but the clouds never left Russell's eyes, and he never stopped seeing relics of the past all around him at all times. Our mother settled him in the empty flat upstairs, no one had lived there for years, and it didn't have much of a past to speak of, or see. The outside world was far too overwhelming for Russell, so he remained in the upstairs flat from that day forward. Because he had no family to speak of, Russell decided it was best to leave him flagged as a missing person to the outside world, it seemed simpler than trying to explain the reality of what had happened. The four of us agreed to never speak of that day's events, and our mother immediately set to work trying to create a remedy.Days turned into weeks and months. Winifred spent a lot of time upstairs keeping Russell company, and the two fell deeply in love. One day our mother announced she had come up with a remedy, a tea she called Black Moon. She brewed a pot, and Winifred volunteered to bring it up to Russell, promising to report back if it had any noticeable effects. But as Winifred was climbing the stairs to the apartment, a shadow of doubt came over her... What if this new concoction made Russell worse? Her heart ached at the thought of involuntarily harming him in any way, so she sat on the top stair outside his door and slowly drank the cup of tea herself to see how it would affect her before giving any to Russell. Russell never did drink any Black Moon tea, because within a short period of time Winifred came crashing down the stairs screaming and waving her arms in the air as though swatting away a swarm of bees. Unlike Russell, her eyes never clouded over, instead they turned into two deep, dark, inky pools. We came to discover that Winifred was now plagued with incessant visions of the future: Buildings being torn down, new ones being erected, wars, unrest, and the cacophony of centuries of living beyond anything she'd ever known... Her condition worsened during the new moon when the sky was at its darkest. On these nights, her existence became nearly unbearable. Layers of the future would wrap around her like a snake wraps its body around its prey, squeezing the air out of its lungs, and effectively crushing it. On these nights,Winnifred would wear a blindfold, which helped to alleviate some of the stress of her condition. I paused my reading then, thinking back to Christmas Eve dinner with Russell, and his odd behaviour as the storm rolled in. He must have been suffering through a similar experience, a ramping up of the effects of his condition... My heart ached for him, for Winifred who was similarly afflicted, for Florence who was tasked with caring for them both, and for Jones the cat who had now joined their ranks. I heaved a sigh, then dove back into the letter. In our mother's mind, the tea she had concocted to view the future would have cancelled out the tea Russell had ingested which gave him visions of the past, but after seeing what happened to Winifred, we didn't dare let him drink any. It became difficult for Russell and Winifred to be in the same room, they were essentially living on different plains now, he in the past, she in the future, with only a bridge of present between them so small they could never stand on it long enough to truly be in one another's company. Heartbroken, Winnifred stopped going upstairs to visit, and only rarely ever spoke.Our mother, devastated by the tragedy she had inadvertently unleashed on our family, made one last attempt at setting things straight. She poured over her craft for several months, studying herbs and tinctures used by our ancestors. Some ingredients she foraged for herself, others she sourced locally or from overseas, until finally one day she came to us with the resulting Golden Sunset tea. This tea, she was certain, would fix both Winifred and Russell's conditions, but she insisted she would drink a cup first to ensure there were no unexpected results. As you may have guessed, the results were, indeed, unexpected, and very tragic.The last entry in our mother's book was written moments after she drank the Golden Sunset tea. She detailed a scene from the future, of a young woman living in our flat, and a cat named Jones with glowing amber eyes. She said this woman would be instrumental to the future of our family history as she would carry on guarding the tea until she reached the age of 93. That is where the diary ends, there were no details beyond that.After drinking her tea and writing in her diary, our mother walked out our front door and stood on the stoop. Winifred and I stood at the window, watching her back as she stared at the world outside, motionless. Perhaps a few minutes went by, perhaps a few hours, neither one of us could tell, but eventually our mother exclaimed “It's all so beautiful!”, then she fell to the ground. Shaken out of our reverie we ran to her, but she was already gone. Presumably, whatever it was the tea caused her to see, it was more than the human mind and body could take.In the decades that followed I continued to care for Mr. Holcomb and Winifred. Winifred would provide guidance on future events and occurrences, which is how we knew you were planning on drinking the tea, and that we were going to arrive just in time to stop you. We tried to change the course of history and arrive in time to also prevent Jones from drinking the tea, but as with every other time we've attempted to change the future, we failed.From what Winifred has shared, and she only shares things she feels are absolutely necessary, I am to make you the beneficiary of our estate upon our passing, which, Winifred has assured me, is much farther away than anyone would ever dream. Perhaps our mother's longevity tea worked better than her other ones. I wish you all the best Marie. We shall not see you again after today, but from what I can gather, someday in the distant future, you will once again see us. Take care,FlorenceI refolded the letter and placed it back between the pages of the book, then closed the cover, re-buckled the strap, and placed the book on the coffee table in front of me. There would be ample time to sift through its pages down the road, right now I needed to process the events of the past week.I carried on with my life over the next few days. Those days turned into weeks, months, years, and before I knew it nearly three decades had gone by. In that time, I earned a nursing degree and used some of the knowledge from Fiona's diary to help patients. I married and divorced, had two children whose careers eventually took them to opposite ends of the country, adopted and went through the heartache of saying goodbye to 3 different cats, all with glowing amber eyes, and... well... I grew older. Not nearly as old as the twins however, who died within days of one another at the ripe old age of 103. It was on a Wednesday afternoon a couple of weeks after the twins' passing that my postman Gordy placed a small package on the stoop outside my front door. I happened to be looking out the window when he came and waved to him as he carried on to my neighbour's house. He smiled and waved back; he was always such a pleasant young man. I reached into my post box and pulled out a small stack of letters, then bent down to pick up the package. I felt my stomach tighten when I saw the return address for the solicitor's office on the parcel. I knew this day would come, this wasn't a surprise per se, and I had only briefly met the sisters on two occasions nearly 30 years ago, yet I still felt the sting of tears in my eyes. Inside the package was a letter from the solicitor detailing the legal intricacies of the estate and the steps I needed to take to finalise things. The only other item in the box was an old antique key. I recognized it immediately as the key Florence had left for me that fateful day all those years ago. I placed the key in my palm and closed my fingers around it. If I focused enough, I could almost feel a low electrical pulse emanating from it.My first time stepping back through the front door of 51 Dimly court was surreal. Everything was exactly the same as it had been the last time I was there. Every trinket, every book, every curtain and pillow and blanket, even down to the plush towel and robe set I had used after taking a bath that Boxing Day afternoon three decades ago. I walked through the flat in wonder, gently tracing my finger along the edges of the sisters' belongings, the items strewn atop their dressers and vanities. Winifred's copy of The House on the Strand was still on her nightstand, I understood the significance now, with her experiencing time differently than the rest of us. I stood at the bottom of the stairway to Russel's flat for a long time staring at the off-center number 7 on the door. I'd read his obituary years ago, I'd lost track of how long it had been exactly, but I remembered it said he had passed peacefully in his sleep with his loved ones, presumably Winifred and Florence, by his side. Eventually I made my way up the stairs and let myself into Russell's flat, which was also frozen in time. I stepped into his office, noting his satchel was still on the desk. I peered inside and saw a collection of marketing materials for cookware. This was the bag he was carrying the day he disappeared, that fateful day he met Fiona Merriwell and her enchanted, or cursed depending on how one views these things, collection of teas.I stepped into the little kitchen; bright sunshine was streaming through the window. I smiled as I remembered sitting at the table sharing a meal with Russell, telling stories, and laughing together. He was a lovely man, lovely and lonely. His fate was not one anyone would have been envious of, unable to leave the confines of his apartment, destined to pine away for an impossible love just within his reach but never attainable... my heart ached for him.I lived on in the flat for forty more years, keeping everything the same as it had always been. I eventually retired from my decades-long career as head nurse at a care home, and before I knew it found myself older than the twins were when I first met them. I surprised myself gravitating toward some of Florence's dresses and coats. Winifred's wardrobe, however, remained too gothic for my taste. As time wore on, I became rather uninterested in the outside world, preferring to focus on my own private little secret world inside the sisters' flat. I never stopped thinking of it as the sisters' flat. My children rarely visited and would only stay in town long enough for a meal, always at a fancy restaurant of course, before returning to their busy lives, and I was okay with that because they were happy.And now we've come to today. Today is my 93rd birthday. I am celebrating alone, and rather enjoying my own company. I finished my cup of tea 15 minutes ago; I can feel its effect taking hold. I see a warm glow around everything in the flat, as though every object has been wrapped in goldleaf and the setting sun is shining through the window, even though in reality today the sky is grey and loaded with a mass of storm clouds. I walk to the sitting room and lower my tired body into a chair by the window, turning to face the inside of the room. I watch as the past fades into view. I see Florence and Winifred as children with their mother reading stories by the fireplace, the same fireplace in which the contents of the tea canisters and Fiona's diary are burning right now. I see young Russell looking dapper in his grey wool suit with his satchel strapped over his shoulder, he's coming in to do a presentation of the luxury cookware he is selling, and Fiona is guiding him toward the kitchen. I see all the events Florence described in her letter unfold before my eyes.Eventually I see myself walking into the flat for the first time, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other waiting for Winifred to speak through the garish red lipstick streaked across her mouth. I marvel at my youth, how naïve and innocent I was then. I watch the entire Christmas holiday unfold, cooking for Mr. Holcomb, rushing outside to rescue Jones, cuddling with him on the sofa, staring into his beautiful golden eyes. Then the fateful night when he drank the tea...Layers of past begin to pile atop one another in rapid succession now, and I see events flash before me. First, I watch the twins grow old and eventually disappear altogether. Then I see myself, older, but still young by my current standards, returning to the flat after several decades away. I watch myself age at a breakneck pace and eventually see myself, dressed the way I am dressed right now, walk into the room. I gasp as I catch of glimpse of my eyes, now turned into two glowing orbs filled with a swirling mass of mauve, gold, coral, and burnt orange. Now I understand why Fiona named this tea Golden Sunset. I watch as I gingerly lower myself into the chair I am sitting in at this very moment. That's when things truly take off, when past, present and future finally collide.In a flash of amber, coral, and lilac everything sets off at lightning speed. I see the future, I see what happens to me, what happens in the decades and centuries beyond this moment in time. I see the people who lived here before the twins, before Fiona, and those who will live here after. I see the field that was here before the apartment building, and the structure that will be built after its demolition decades from now. I turn to look out the window, the view is breathtaking. I can see everything that has come before and everything yet to come, all awash in a swirl sunset colours. It's chaotic, it's heartbreaking, it's electric, it's inspiring, it's... life......and it's all so beautiful.Thank you so much for listening, I truly hope you enjoyed The Man with a Storm in His Eyes. It has been my pleasure to write and record this story for you, and I am very much looking forward to doing it again. Stay tuned for more spooky and unusual tales in the future!If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon. Patreon supporters get early access to ad-free podcast episodes, digital downloads of my music, and so much more. It's the first place I share my creations. However, if you prefer not to subscribe, but would like to make a one-time contribution, you can do so via your podcast platform. Any and all financial support is greatly appreciated.Once again, thank you for listening – I'm Melissa Oliveri, writer, composer, and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast. Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/theskylarkbell/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

The Man with a Storm in His Eyes – Volume 3NOTE: If you have not listened to Volumes 1 and 2 of this 4-part miniseries, please pause this episode, and go listen to the first two installments, otherwise the story won't make much sense.Over Thanksgiving I spent a few days house- and cat-sitting for a friend. The moment I met Russell the cat I was completely charmed by the milky cloudiness of his eyes. What fascinated me most was that he appeared to be able to see just fine... to the point where sometimes he appeared to be seeing things that I myself couldn't see. I found myself inspired and fully credit Russell with breaking through my writer's block.This story is available in written form in its entirety exclusively to Patreon Supporters, visit the link below to join.Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveriContact: theskylarkbell@gmail.comThe Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.comThe Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbellAuthor/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.comAll music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.comCannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.musicFULL TRANSCRIPT:Things with Wings Productions presents: The Man with a Storm in His Eyes - A Skylark Special Miniseries written exclusively for The Skylark Bell podcast. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  Before I begin, if you haven't listened to the first two installments of this story, I strongly suggest you hit pause on this episode and go listen to volume 1 and volume 2, otherwise this episode won't make much sense. In last week's episode, Marie rescued a kitten named Jones, and made the startling discovery that Mr. Holcomb had been labeled a missing person decades prior.Now, get settled in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let's dive back into the story.I didn't need to worry about waking the next morning as Jones took it upon himself to serve as an alarm clock when he felt it was time to be fed. “You little rascal, you're just loving this aren't you?” I teased as I placed a bowl of turkey pieces with a strong pour of gravy in front of him. I was about to go take a shower when the phone on the kitchen wall rang so loudly I was sure the neighbours three houses away could hear it. I grabbed my chest with my hand and waited a moment to catch my breath before lifting the receiver off the hook. “Hello?” I asked tentatively. “Oh, hello Marie dear, this is Florence,” came the voice on the other end of the line. “I was simply calling to let you know we plan on returning home early tomorrow morning. I trust things are going well?” she asked.I could still feel my heart beating out of my chest, but I managed to compose myself enough to reply. “Yes, everything is great. Mr. Holcomb is quite lovely. Oh, I should probably tell you, I found a stray kitten that I'm caring for, I hope that's okay?” I figured I should probably make mention of the fact that I'd brought an animal into their home.There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line, and I grew nervous that Florence was displeased. “That's quite alright dear. I'm sure Jones is thoroughly enjoying spending the holidays with you,” she eventually replied, and I heaved a sigh of relief. “Right then, we'll see you in the morning,” she added before promptly ending the call.I put the phone back in its cradle. Something about the conversation was bothering me... I stood barefoot on the cold ceramic kitchen floor running the conversation through my head again, then it finally hit me: How did Florence know the kitten's name was Jones? On cue, Jones wandered into the room and rubbed up against my legs. I picked him up and held him at arm's length. Of course! Jones had a name tag, perhaps Florence had seen him before, maybe he even had a reputation for visiting neighbourhood homes and getting a few extra meals out of it. “I knew you were a rascal!” I giggled. I pulled him in and bumped my nose against his, mesmerized by those unearthly amber eyes, before gently placing him back on the ground.I showered and put on a festive sweater and some dressy trousers before heading upstairs to join Mr. Holcomb for Boxing Day breakfast. I told him about the rowdy boys and the kitten, and how Jones and I had eaten Christmas dinner by candlelight before I spent a couple of hours reading Alice in Wonderland in the reading room. I was itching to ask him about the newspaper clippings, but something about his expression stopped me. His brow was knit, and his eyes had turned that stormy charcoal grey again. I realized then that I'd been speaking non-stop since we'd sat down, so I quieted myself and waited for him to speak.“So... Jones is here now,” was all he said. I nodded but wasn't sure if he noticed as he seemed to be staring off into space. I let the quiet linger between us, hoping he would elaborate, but his lips remained tightly pressed together.“Mr. Holcomb...” I began, unsure of how to broach the subject. “Your questions will all be answered in due time, my dear Marie,” he said, sparing me the trouble of asking. “There are things that should not be known before one is ready to know them...” he mused obscurely, still with that faraway, stormy look in his eyes. I didn't dare ask him to elaborate, I would just have to be patient. We spent the rest of breakfast speaking of innocuous things; childhood Christmas gifts, funny stories about relatives falling off chairs or spilling food and drink on one another at holiday parties. Though we only talked about surface things, the conversation was merry, and Mr. Holcomb's eyes progressively morphed from steely grey to an appealing feathery white.It was past noon by the time I got back downstairs to the sisters' flat. Jones meowed at me in greeting and climbed up my shin to be picked up. I curled him into my arms like a baby and stared into his eyes, bordering on chartreuse in the midday light, while feeling the soft rumble of his purring against my chest. I felt the weight of the world disappear then, there was such comfort in the softness of his fur and his desire for companionship. A sudden chill passed through the air causing Jones and I to shiver in unison. “I think I'm going to run a bath,” I said, lowering him to the hardwood floor. “Don't worry, I have no expectation that you will want to get anywhere near the water,” I laughed. “Why don't I make a fire in the fireplace for you, and you can wait for me on the sofa with a blanket?” I suddenly became aware that I was speaking to Jones as though he were human and felt simultaneously ridiculous and grateful that there was no one around to hear. I got Jones settled then made my way to the bathroom. I took the time to admire the vintage Art Deco tile pattern on the floor and walls before turning the hot water faucet on the claw foot tub to its maximum, then adding a bit of cold water and two capfuls of green apple bath bubbles. I placed a thick fluffy towel and a bathrobe on a nearby wooden stool in preparation for the aftermath of my soak, then draped my clothes over the edge of the sink before carefully slipping into the steaming hot water. I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet, fruity fragrance while listening to the crackling of the bubbles.I sat quietly in the tub, keeping thoughts of cloudy eyes and mysterious disappearances at bay, choosing to think instead of what I would prepare for dinner and which tea from the three forbidden tea canisters I would brew first. Eventually the water grew uncomfortably tepid, and the skin on my fingers began to wrinkle. I used my toe to pull the chain attached to the bathtub stopper and let the water drain a moment before standing to step out of the tub. The towel and bathrobe were both luxuriously plush, and I relished the warm, cozy feeling of being wrapped in them. I walked to the living room and rooted through my weekender bag for a fresh change of clothes. Jones was fast asleep on the sofa, curled up on a throw pillow with the glow of the fire reflecting off the sheen of his velvety fur.I made my way to the kitchen and perused the pantry and refrigerator contents for inspiration. I grabbed some zucchini, carrots, peas, and broccoli from the fridge and a box of pasta out of the cupboard. With a little butter, cream, and spoonful of flour I could whip together a mean pasta primavera, there was even a block of fresh parmesan cheese in the fridge to top it all off. I still had leftover rum raisin cake and custard for dessert. “That will pair perfectly with a cup of forbidden tea!” I chucked to myself out loud in the empty kitchen. I set to work making a roux and roasting the vegetables. My mum had always loved my pasta primavera; the secret was roasting the vegetables rather than boiling or steaming them, the caramelization added a lovely depth of flavour to the dish. “Jones, time to eat!” I called as I placed a bowl of shredded turkey with a dollop of cream sauce at his place setting across the table from me. I set my plate on the table as well, then gave each of us a generous sprinkle of parmesan. “Now I don't want you to think this is what you get to eat every day, this is a Boxing Day special, okay?” I said to him as he hopped onto the table. I patted the top of his head then sat down to eat. A flood of memories of suppers with my mother came to me as I took my first bite. I could see her smile, hear her laugh... what I wouldn't do to see and hear her again...Jones finished his meal long before I did and stretched out in front of the stove, rolling onto his back to let its warmth tickle his belly. I cleared the table and quickly did the washing up, then put the kettle on. While waiting for the water to boil I unwrapped the rum raisin cake, cut a generous piece and placed it onto a plate. “Perfect timing!” I exclaimed as the kettle sounded its whistle. I turned off the stove, then stood in front of the shelf with the three glass tea canisters, I hadn't yet decided which one I was going to brew. I noticed a label at the bottom of each one, and squinted to read the ornate cursive handwriting in hopes it would help inform my decision. I started with the canister to the left, the tea inside was black and appeared rather nondescript. “Dark Moon, sounds like something Winifred would come up with!” I said, laughing at my own humour. I moved on to the next canister, the tea inside was shades of purple with delicate dark pink rose petals mixed in, its label read “Violet Storm”. Intriguing! The last canister was filled with a mixture of gold tea leaves, yellow and orange flower petals, and citrus rinds, the label on that one read “Golden Sunset”. I pondered a moment longer, and decided Violet Storm sounded like a good accompaniment to rum raisin cake. I gingerly lifted the canister off the shelf and placed it on the counter. I popped open its lid, and the aroma of lavender, elderberry, hibiscus, and a strange sickly-sweet smell I couldn't pinpoint rose from its contents. I found a scoop in the utensil drawer and placed three spoonfulls into the infuser part of the teapot, then poured the boiling water in and stepped away to let it steep for a few minutes. I walked to the stove and crouched next to Jones, running my hand over the sleek fur of his body. He looked up at me with those amber eyes and blinked that slow blink cats do when they're rather satisfied with their circumstances; a full belly, a warm napping spot, and a human to do their bidding. I finally admitted to myself that I'd grown unusually attached to this kitten over the past couple of days, as though we were kindred spirits from the start.“Tea time!” I said as I stood up. I poured tea from the pot into the teacup Mr. Holcomb had gifted me. I left the teacup on the counter while I brought my plate of cake and the little pot of custard to the table. Then I grabbed the saucer with the teacup precariously balanced on it and held it up to my face, breathing in the steam. The unidentified sweet smell was even more pungent now, and I desperately wondered what it would taste like. I shifted the saucer to my other hand and grabbed the teacup by its delicate handle, slowly lifting it to my mouth. Suddenly, a loud slam came from behind me. Startled beyond belief I jumped and spun on my heel. Before I could wrap my brain around what was happening the teacup flew out of my hand and went crashing to the floor, leaving the echo of a shattering sound ringing through the kitchen. I stared in shock at the purple streak of tea spreading across the black and white tile of the floor.“I told you not to drink the tea!”I gathered my wits about me and looked up. Standing a few paces away was Winifred. She had a small cut on her hand, presumably from when she slapped the teacup out of my grasp. It took me a moment to notice Florence was standing directly next to her. “Oh dear,” breathed Florence, looking at something behind me with sadness in her eyes. I turned and saw Jones voraciously drinking from the puddle of tea on the floor.“Oh Jones, that's not for you!” I said, bending to pull him into my arms.“It's too late,” croaked Winifred. I instantly recognized the voice on the phone that stormy Christmas Eve night in Mr. Holcomb's flat. What in the world was going on?!“I- I wasn't expecting you back so soon,” I stumbled over my words, both nervous and embarrassed. “Winifred felt strongly that we should come home early,” said Florence. “It's probably best that you go home now, Marie,” she added. Her voice was neutral, neither kind nor unkind, neither soft nor stern. I sheepishly bent to clean up the mess of broken porcelain on the floor. “Leave it,” she said. I kept my gaze glued to the floor and withdrew to the living room to tidy up and pack my things.As I made my way into the hall Jones sauntered over and looked up at me with those glorious glowing yellow eyes. I pondered whether I should scoop him up and take him with me, but Winifred came through the doorway to the right and stood between us, her inky eyes piercing into my soul, and slowly shook her head no. I muttered an apology and made a swift exit.I wallowed in self-pity and embarrassment for a few days, then decided to leave the confines of my flat to take a walk. I wandered through the woods where the crows cawed to one another as though saying “Look at that ridiculous girl, a guest in someone's home and doing as she pleases with no regard for them!” I felt disgraced, and disappointed in myself. Making a cup of tea seemed like such a small, innocuous, harmless thing at the time, but clearly it wasn't, clearly there was a valid reason why the sisters had forbidden it... and I should have respected their wishes.I wandered aimlessly, stopping at one point to select a drink at the local café. I stared hopelessly at the menu board, unable to make up my mind, and finally settled on some iced tea, then chuckled bitterly at the irony of my selection. My walk eventually took me to the top of Dimly Court. I looked down the street past the brick row houses and perfectly manicured shrubs, hesitating. Would it be out of place for me to walk by? The sisters were hermits, the odds of one of them seeing me were rather low. I decided to take my chances and turned onto their street. Every window covering at 51 Dimly court was drawn, but I could see Jones' silhouette sitting on the windowsill, the patterned chenille of the drapes hanging behind him like backdrop. I stood in front of the window, admiring the velvety sheen of his coat. “Jones!” I whispered as loudly as I dared. The kitten turned his head and I gasped. I instinctively took a step back and nearly tumbled off walkway. In the place of those glorious golden eyes that I had stared into just days before were two orbs filled with a swirl of thunderous grey clouds. The cat's head suddenly darted back and forth as though watching something behind me. I turned to look but there was nothing there. I stood on the empty street watching him get increasingly agitated. “Oh Jones, what happened to you?” I choked. Suddenly, the curtain was pulled aside and Winifred's pallid face came into view, that eternal streak of red lipstick still across her mouth. Her carbon-coloured eyes locked firmly on me as she pulled the kitten into her arms, then she quickly stepped back into the shadows from whence she came. The curtain closed behind her, a supple but effective barrier between us.I trudged back home in slow, plodding steps, my head hung low. My mind, however, was in overdrive. Jones' eyes were now in the same condition as Mr. Holcomb's... what on earth could have caused it? I let different scenarios play out my head, then stopped dead in my tracks as it hit me: The tea! It had to be the tea! That would explain why the sisters had instructed me not to drink it. Jones had lapped it up after it spilled on the floor, and now he had a storm in his eyes. I let the swirling thoughts keep coming; perhaps Mr. Holcomb had ingested some of the tea as well, and that's how he ended up the way he did. I suddenly remembered the glimpse of him I'd caught the night of the storm when he'd sat rod-straight in his chair, a blindfold strapped across his eyes. My next thought sent a shiver down my spine... What was it he was avoiding looking at that night? What was it, exactly, that Jones and Mr. Holcomb were able to see with those cloudy eyes that I apparently could not? I shuddered as I realised how closely I had come to joining their ranks.I spent the next few days alone, only going out for the odd walk in the woods and to do a bit of shopping at times when I was least likely to encounter other people. Thankfully, I didn't have to return to work until after the holidays. I rang in the new year by myself in my dark living room, doing my best to ignore the cacophony of the festivities outside the walls of my apartment. I simply wasn't in a celebratory mood, and other people's cheer was the last thing I needed.I woke at the crack of dawn the first day of the new year with the unsettling feeling that something was amiss. I heard the sound of a car door outside my window, and got out of bed, tugging my twisted nighty back into place. I slid into my fuzzy slippers, then walked to the living room so I could look out the front windows. My stomach clenched instantly. There, standing immobile on the walkway to my apartment building, a black 1940s style car parked behind them, were the twins. Winifred was dressed all in black with a black strip of fabric draped over her eyes, which made her white powdery makeup and smear of red lipstick stand out even more. In complete contrast, Florence was decked out in a floral dress with a long brown chequered coat draped over her shoulders. The sisters' arms were laced together, presumably so Florence could guide Winifred who surely couldn't see much, if anything, with the blindfold. Florence locked eyes with me, then carefully and deliberately bent down to place a brown leather-bound book onto the pavers of the walkway to my building. She gave me a small nod, then the pair turned and methodically walked back to the old-fashioned car. Florence helped Winifred get in her seat, then walked to the driver's side, and eased herself behind the wheel. I watched, equally confused, and mesmerized, as the pair drove off.Thank you so much for listening, I truly hope you enjoyed this third installment of The Man with a Storm in His Eyes.Be sure to check in next week for the final portion of the story!If you enjoyed this episode, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon. Patreon supporters get early access to ad-free podcast episodes, digital downloads of my music, and so much more. It's the first place I share my creations. However, if you prefer not to subscribe, but would like to make a one-time contribution, you can do so via your podcast platform. Any and all financial support is greatly appreciated.Once again, thank you for listening – I'm Melissa Oliveri, writer, composer, and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast. Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/theskylarkbell/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

The Man with a Storm in His Eyes – Volume 2NOTE: If you have not listened to Volume 1 of this 4-part miniseries, please pause this episode, and go listen to the first installment, otherwise the story won't make much sense.Over Thanksgiving I spent a few days house- and cat-sitting for a friend. The moment I met Russell the cat I was completely charmed by the milky cloudiness of his eyes. What fascinated me most was that he appeared to be able to see just fine... to the point where sometimes he appeared to be seeing things that I myself couldn't see. I found myself inspired and fully credit Russell with breaking through my writer's block.This story is available in written form in its entirety exclusively to Patreon Supporters, visit the link below to join.Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveriContact: theskylarkbell@gmail.comThe Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.comThe Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbellAuthor/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.comAll music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.comCannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.musicFULL TRANSCRIPT:Things with Wings Productions presents: The Man with a Storm in His Eyes - A Skylark Special Miniseries written exclusively for The Skylark Bell podcast. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  Before I begin, if you haven't listened to the first installment of this story, I strongly suggest you hit pause on this episode and go listen to volume 1 or the story won't make much sense. In last week's episode, we met Marie, who agreed to take on a job house-sitting for twin sisters Florence and Winifred over the holiday weekend and will help care for their elderly tenant, Mr. Holcomb who lives upstairs. When we left Marie, she had just exited Mr. Holcomb's apartment after Christmas Eve dinner went awry as a thunderous storm rolled in. Now, get settled in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let's dive back into the story, shall we?I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time I glanced at the fire it had been rendered to a pile of glowing embers, and a small stream of sunlight was coming through a crack in the floral chenille fabric of the drapes. I got up, neatly folded, and piled the blankets, and pulled the drapes open to let the full force of the sun shine into the room. A cloud of dust lifted from the drapes and swirled into the air before slowly settling onto the surrounding surfaces. In the bright light of day, the space didn't seem nearly so threatening, and I began to feel ridiculous about overreacting to the phone call the night before. The line was crackly, I probably misheard. In all likelihood it was a wrong number, or a prank call. “Merry Christmas, Marie,” I said out loud to the empty flat as I padded down the hall to the kitchen. I cooked some eggs and toast, poured myself a glass of orange juice, and put the kettle on for tea. I eyed the tea canisters on the shelf above the cookbooks but decided to save that for the evening. I washed up my dishes, changed clothes, brushed my teeth, then decided to go upstairs to check on Mr. Holcomb. I climbed the narrow stairs and was about to knock on the door when it swung open, revealing Mr. Holcomb's silhouette in the hallway. “I told you my hearing was good,” he uttered before I could ask how he knew I was there. “Merry Christmas,” he added without any merriment in his voice. He looked exhausted.I opened my mouth to ask what had happened the night before, but he had already started walking down the hallway on velvet feet. I followed him to the kitchen where two cups of steaming coffee and a plate of biscuits sat waiting on the table. “How did you...” I let the question trail, unable to wrap my brain around his impeccable timing.“My senses are above average, I knew you were coming upstairs before you did,” he replied with a wink. I noticed with wonder that when he winked the clouds in his other eye swirled faster for a moment as though a gust of wind was passing through.We sat at the table in silence. I became self-conscious of the crunching of biscuits in the quiet little kitchen and was about to begin a conversation when Mr. Holcomb beat me to it. “I have a gift for you,” he said out of the blue. I stared at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. I had never seen him leave his flat, how in the world did he manage to find a gift for me? He turned to take a small box off the counter and handed it to me. I freed the box from the blue velvet ribbon wrapped around it and gently lifted its lid. Inside was a fine china teacup with matching saucer, both white but painted with a black floral pattern that bordered on ink blots. There was something very Winifred-esque about them and I briefly wondered if this was a re-gift situation, but it didn't matter to me, I was touched by the thoughtfulness of his gesture.“This is lovely Mr. Holcomb, and so very kind, thank you. I'm afraid I have nothing to offer in return, I didn't realise...”“Not to worry dear, I wasn't expecting anything at all, I simply wanted to show some appreciation for keeping me company at this time of year,” he replied. His stormy eyes took on a darker tone then, almost like the deep, heavy grey of a rain cloud about to unleash its tears on the world. “Well, I shall leave you to your own devices for the rest of the day. Nothing personal, I simply prefer to be alone at Christmas.”I frowned but acquiesced with a polite nod as I rose from my chair. “I insist on bringing you a tray with Christmas dinner though, I'll leave it by your door around 6pm, okay?” I asked. He smiled and gave me a nod, understanding my need to reciprocate the kindness of his gift. “I shall see you tomorrow morning then?” my question was tentative; I still hadn't sorted out what had happened the night before.“Yes, I shall cook us a nice Boxing Day breakfast. Now go on, enjoy your time downstairs, there is much to read, much to discover, much to learn...” he said. Had his eyes been clear, they'd have been staring into my soul then. I looked at him intently, his eyes suddenly seemed lighter, almost white, and feathery, there was a calm to them, and I got a shiver down my spine as I realised he was attempting to convey a message.I took the box containing Mr. Holcomb's gift and made my way back to the sisters' flat. I gently pulled the cup and saucer out of the box and placed them on the counter. It was here that I finally noted the black flowers were painted in a swirling pattern eerily reminiscent of Mr. Holcomb's cloudy eyes.I was intimately familiar with the kitchen and sitting rooms already, so I decided it was time to explore the rest of the flat. I first went down the hall and hesitantly stepped into Winifred's room. I perused the items on her dresser, they were few; an empty perfume bottle, a hairbrush with long strands of dark hair tangled into it, a collection of multicoloured glass bottles and vials that appeared to contain various tinctures and what looked like animal teeth... Curiouser and curiouser! Winifred was definitely the creepy sister. Laying askew atop her nightstand was a copy of Daphne DuMaurier's The House on the Strand. I picked up the book and read the synopsis on the back, it had to do with time travel and such. I placed it back down, making a mental note to get myself a copy, I found the idea of time travel fascinating!I exited Winifred's room and let myself into Florence's living quarters. Her space was much larger and included a sitting area. I ran my hand along the wood of her antique loveseat, then down its striped salmon-coloured satin fabric. I walked to her dresser and noticed the top drawer was slightly open. I peeked in and saw it was filled with handwritten notes and illustrations on various bits of paper. I was about to pull it open further to explore the contents when I heard a commotion outside the window. “What was that?” I asked the empty room. I walked to the window and looked out to see a group of boys running down the street at breakneck speed. My eyes followed them until they were out of sight, then darted back to the sidewalk. Sitting just outside the window, quietly staring up at me with stunning yellow eyes, was a kitten, its velvety grey fur covered in mud. Clearly the boys had been mistreating it. Concerned for the kitten's safety, I rushed down the hallway, grabbing the antique key to the front door off the entryway console as I whizzed by, and flew down the steps to the sidewalk. Thankfully the kitten was still there. From this proximity I could see it had a blue velvet ribbon for a collar, with small silver tag dangling from it. I approached cautiously, not wanting to scare it away, and crouched down while reaching my hand out. The kitten immediately got up and walked toward me, pushing its little head against my palm, its friendliness completely unhindered by the abuse it had just suffered at the hands of the unruly boys. “Hello there small friend,” I cooed, running my hand down the softness of its back. I used my other hand to grab hold of the tag. “Jones,” I read, “is that your name, or your family's name?” The kitten remained silent; its amber eyes transfixed on me as I carefully bent down to scoop it up.I cradled the kitten in my arms as I made my way back into the sisters' flat. It took a few tries opening various cupboards, but I eventually found two shallow bowls. I filled one with water, and placed a few pieces of cooked chicken from the fridge into the other one. “There you go, Jones, Merry Christmas,” I told him as I placed the bowls on the tile floor. He meowed at me, and I told myself he was wishing me a merry Christmas in return. I didn't know then it wasn't going to be a merry Christmas for him at all...I gave Jones a bath as best I could in the large porcelain sink, then settled him on a pillow by the stove to dry. I spent the rest of the day in the cozy kitchen cooking and baking. First, I prepared a hearty vegetable soup with cheddar and chive biscuits, then some lentil fritters using my nan's recipe from memory, and finally a rum raisin cake with homemade custard for dessert. I also made a point to prepare a little Christmas meal for Jones using odds and ends I found in the fridge. I put together a tray for Mr. Holcomb and left it by his door, promptly at 6pm, as promised, then came back downstairs to eat. I found a festive tartan tablecloth and some tapered candles with accompanying pewter candle holders on the bottom shelf of the pantry. “It's just you and me, Jones,” I said to the cat, “might as well make the most of it!” I spooned a bit of custard onto a plate for him. His golden eyes glowed with gratitude as he lapped it up.We finished dinner and I tidied the kitchen, then wandered aimlessly about the flat, eventually landing in the reading room.  I perused the books housed on the multitude of shelves, and finally chose Alice in Wonderland. I plopped myself in the leather chair stationed in front of the massive oak desk in the center of the room and lost myself down the rabbit hole alongside Alice for a couple of hours. Eventually, I tore myself away from the pages to give my eyes a break. I set the book down on the desktop and pushed the chair back slightly to take a look at the drawers. The top drawer had a keyhole, which of course made me desperately want to open it. I scoured the items strewn on top of the desk and eventually found a small key with a black satin ribbon tied in a bow around the top of it. I turned the key in the lock and heard the satisfying click that meant my curiosity would soon be satiated. Alas, behind the barrier of the lock, the drawer contained only an assortment of pens and blank notepads.I moved onto the top right drawer and found a collection of folders detailing much of the history of the building including the original owners and a collection of past tenants. Fascinating! I had done so much reading already though, I decided to save this for the following day. I shifted to the left and pulled that top drawer open. At first, I thought it was empty, but just as I was about to close it, I noticed there was a black folder laying on the very bottom, almost imperceptible. The folder was wedged so tightly into the bottom of the drawer I had to use my thumbnail to pry it free. I didn't immediately realise it, but the mystery I was about to discover would call into question everything I thought I knew about Mr. Holcomb and the twins.I lifted the folder out of the drawer and a series of newspaper clippings fell out onto the desk. I turned on the antique desk lamp, picked up one of the clippings, and held it under the light to get a better look. “Young Salesman From Edgewick Goes Missing” read the headline. Despite my tired eyes I dove in, completely enthralled by the mystery. It wasn't long before my breath caught in my throat. The article went on to explain that a young man had gone missing after leaving for work the Tuesday morning prior. He was last seen dressed in a charcoal-coloured wool suit and carrying a brown satchel. His name? Russell James Holcomb. I let the piece of paper fall from my hand to the surface of the hardwood desktop. I stared at the portrait of the young man; with a little imagination it wasn't hard to see the resemblance with the old cloud-eyed man living upstairs. My brow knit as I tried to come to terms with this discovery. Mr. Holcomb had gone missing as a young man, was anyone aware of his whereabouts now? I sifted through the other newspaper clippings in search of answers. Most of them were from the same era as the first one, days to weeks after Mr. Holcomb first disappeared, but one of them stood out. It was written nearly a decade later and was part of a collection of stories about people who had mysteriously vanished without a trace, never to be seen or heard from again. I had half a mind to march upstairs and ask Mr. Holcomb what this was all about, but it dawned on me then that perhaps he didn't want to be found, perhaps he had good reason for never speaking up about his whereabouts. From the news articles it didn't sound like he was the type to have done anything nefarious. I was desperately curious about his story but knew better than to go charging in asking questions. The grandfather clock in the corner struck twice, it was 2am already, and I had promised Mr. Holcomb I would join him for breakfast in a few hours. I wandered back into the living room and settled on the sofa with my trusty pile of blankets. Jones hopped onto the couch as well and curled up on top of my feet. I fell asleep to the steady rumble of his purring as the fire in the fireplace slowly waned to embers.Thank you so much for listening, I truly hope you enjoyed this second installment of The Man with a Storm in His Eyes.Be sure to check in next week for the next part of the story!If you enjoyed this episode, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon. Patreon supporters get early access to ad-free podcast episodes, digital downloads of my music, and so much more. It's the first place I share my creations. However, if you prefer not to subscribe, but would like to make a one-time contribution, you can do so via your podcast platform. Any and all financial support is greatly appreciated.Once again, thank you for listening – I'm Melissa Oliveri, writer, composer, and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/theskylarkbell/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

You never know what—or who—you'll run into In the Aisles. In this episode, Derek from Vice Grip Garage (and his son, Bentley from Little Grip Garage) talk to another father-and-son duo: Kent and Jack from the YouTube channel “Speed Bump Garage”. You'll hear about their favorites: favorite cars, car movies, tools, even their favorite aisles at O'Reilly Auto Parts. A '68 Skylark that's been in their family since it was brand new comes into the conversation. As do potatoes and pumpkins as big as a truck bed.   Follow Speed Bump Garage: ● YouTube: https://bit.ly/3RsUGF7 ● Instagram: https://bit.ly/471igi8 ● Facebook: https://bit.ly/473mwNO   Follow Derek Bieri and Vice Grip Garage: ● YouTube: https://bit.ly/VGGYouTube ● Instagram: https://bit.ly/VGGInsta ● Facebook: https://bit.ly/VGGFacebook ● https://www.vicegripgarage.com/   Shop Dorman: https://bit.ly/DormanOE   O'Reilly Auto Parts presents In the Aisles with Derek Bieri: a podcast of conversations with some of our favorite DIY experts, influencers, online automotive techs and instructors. It's more than just an entertaining podcast (although Derek is a pretty funny guy). It's an opportunity for you to get acquainted with other like-minded enthusiasts and their stories, gather some tips & tricks, and hear advice on how to take your project car from dead to drivable. New episodes monthly.   Email Questions To: InTheAisles9000@gmail.com   Vice Grip Garage has been gracin' the interwebs since 2019 and has pursuaded countless clunkers to run over years. Maybe only half of ‘em had brakes (and that's being generous). Derek focuses on budget builds, rescues, and how to's for the common folk. From classic cars to tractors Derek has been there and driven it home 600 miles.   Website: OReillyAuto.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/oreillyautoparts/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/oreillyautoparts/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/oreillyauto   The views and opinions expressed in this series, including all program participants, are solely their own views and opinions, are based on their own perspective and opinions; and do not necessarily represent the views or opinions of O'Reilly Auto Parts, or its corporate entities or employees. O'Reilly Auto Parts, Derek Bieri and our guests make no warranties or representations of any kind concerning the accuracy or suitability of the information provided in this video. All information provided is provided as is.' Any information regarding vehicle operation and/or maintenance provided in this video is intended solely for general guidance and must never be considered a substitute for advice from a qualified automotive mechanic. For any specific issue or question regarding your vehicle, always consult a qualified automotive mechanic. #OReillyPowered #SpeedBumpGarage #ViceGripGarage #Podcast   O'Reilly Auto Parts, headquartered in Springfield, Missouri, has been a household name for aftermarket replacement parts, repair tools, interior accessories, and even professional-grade shop equipment since its founding in 1957. Since then we've only grown, and now have over 5000 stores throughout the United States and Mexico–all dedicated to servicing the do-it-yourself and professional customer. The O'Reilly Auto Parts YouTube channel provides another way for us to serve our customers by offering reliable automotive repair and product selection information in a way that is easy to understand, no matter the user's skill level. Let us help you repair your car with helpful tips and step-by-step instructions to get the job done right.

Zzz . . . Zoom off to sleepyland with this sci-fi reading of "The Skylark of Space" by E. E. Smith zzz Want to listen to an ad-free version of the show? Just go to patreon.com/sleepyradio and donate $2! Thanks, sweet dreams zzz Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices