Here's the transcript:
"Dear Barnes,
It was so nice to see you at the conference last week. I’ve missed
our little get-togethers. I think the pub afterwards might have been the best
time I’ve had in months. This job really gets to me sometimes, you know? People
think artists have it easy, but it’s like any other job. I hope Ellen returns
that stuffed blue jay she swiped, though.
I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to ask. Has the committee approved your grant yet? I
hope they do. Sillman can be a real lazy
bastard, though.
I’m heading back up to Boston Corner for a few days next week to
investigate the connection that place has with my dreams. And to investigate
that weird floating roof gable in the forest. The connection is stronger there.
The dreams more vivid. I see the Astarapomp so much clearer there.
God, I hope I don’t see the phantoms again. I get such an aura of
cold malice from them. They do not like that my dreams take me to those places
out beyond the pull of Earth and the familiar planets. I do not know why it angers them so much.
They stayed far far away last time, but I’m afraid to contemplate what might
happen. I would like to see another Bubble-Comet, though. My sketches really
don’t do them justice. They’re like ghosts flickering with St. Elmo’s fire. I
need to do at least a watercolor of them.
I’ll send you more letters once I get there. I found a nice little
bed and breakfast. Really, the only hotel in the place. I don’t think the town
is more than a dozen buildings, plus the railway. I hear the views from the
Taconic Mountains are spectacular, though.
I took your advise with regard to the soldiers at the Schenectady
Stockade. I’ll show you the changes I made when I get back.
Thomas
P.S. Sorry- that book on the microbialites is still checked out.
I’m beginning to wonder if the borrower stole it. I’ll keep checking."
And here's one of his letters from Boston Corner
"Dear Barnes,
I arrived at Boston Corner this morning. Still getting settled in.
Like I said before, it’s a small town. Not even a town, really. A hamlet would
be more accurate.
The place I’m staying at is lovely. As the name says, it’s a
preserved colonial saltbox house. I was surprised at first at how young the
owners were, but the manager told me she’d inherited the place from her great
aunt and had turned it into a rental to keep it from falling to pieces. The
places is full of artifacts, and little plaques everywhere like a museum. I’ve
always wanted to sleep in a museum.
Went for a walk up into the foothills, looking for that piece of
gable roof up in the sky. Couldn’t remember where it was. Most of the area
around the town is hemlock forest, which makes the woods dark and brooding.
There is a feeling of presence. As of something waiting. Watching. Holding its
breath expectantly. I tried not to think about the phantoms.
I was going to take some pictures on my walk, but the film in my
camera is all used up. I’ll have to check at the drug store tomorrow to see if
they have any on hand.
I came across a little peat bog nestled in some boulders and I
swear I have never seen some of these plants anywhere else. There were the
usual cranberry bushes, cat-tails and sundews, but these others I could not
place. I admit I am no botanist, but I feel I have a pretty good grasp of New
England flora, and these were unlike anything I’ve run across before. Yet I
could not help feeling a strange sense of familiarity. As if I have, in fact,
seen them somewhere. As drawings, perhaps? But where? I do not for the life of
me know.
I took a couple samples so I can look them up at the library when
I get home. I also did some drawings of them and made some ecological notes. One that I’m calling the Fig Flower gave off
an audible buzz and a distinct pungent smell of rotting meat. When I cut open a
pod, I found it was absolutely filled with flies. But I don’t think they were
food. They were dusted with pollen. I’m assuming the rotting smell must attract
them. An amazing find. I’ll have to locate some more later in the season and
see if I can get some seeds to plant.
Had an odd incident while coming back to the bed and breakfast. I
saw a black bird soaring overhead. A turkey vulture, maybe? Didn’t really pay
much attention at first, but gradually I noticed something didn’t seem right
about it. The way it flew was. . . off. I can’t describe it very well. I don’t
know why, but I had this odd impression that the thing was not comfortable
flying. As if moving through air was a strange new sensation for it. At times
it almost seemed like a paper cutout moving against a screen. The weirdest part
was when it flew into a cloud bank. At least, I’m assuming that’s what happened,
because it just sort of faded into the gray sky. But I swear, it didn’t so much
fade as come apart, as if it were a stuffed toy and someone pulled its
stitchings out. Just before it vanished, it appeared to fall apart into several
pieces. I don’t want to start jumping to supernatural conclusions. But
considering all the strange things that have been happening to me lately, I
just don not know what to think.
Anyway, it’s getting late here and I’m tired. I’ll write again tomorrow evening.
Sincerely,
Thomas"
I think these two pictures are the strange plants he was referring to. Anybody have any ideas what these are?
Here's the front of one.
In case you can't read Thom's handwriting, these are the notes from top to bottom:
"Devil's Cupola
Asteroidean name: "single wave of three longest tube feet on arm 4. Double wave of three longest tube feet on 5th arm."
"Flower is red. Perhaps to attract a hummingbird analog?"
"red cupola"
"devil horn leaves"
"minute hairs on stalk"
"I have seen no bees, nor bee flies, nor beetles enter the flower"
"Dead leaves around base. Ground under leaves remains moist even when surrounding soil is dry. Perhaps to retain water?"
I'm guessing "Asteroidean" is his term for the starfish-creatures he's been seeing?
Here's the back of this sheet.
The writing says:
"Modular rhizome"
"Could not grow plants from tubers"
"Devil's cupola leaf"
"Perhaps related to the Aristolochiaceae?"
Based on his comment about not being able to grow from a tuber, I'm guessing he found some more at some point maybe?
Here's the other mystery plant.
"Fig Flower
Asteroidean name: Three waves of three longest tube feet on arm 1. Simultaneous triple wave of one long tube foot on 3rd arm"
"Large, wrinkled, purple pods."
"Small white flowers around lip"
"each pod has several holes eaten in it, perhaps by wasps?"
"young leaves are stiff and spiney (sic)"
"Plants are surrounded by an audible buzzing from all the flies trapped inside."
"mature leaves have numerous feather-like lobes."
"base is bulbous. The base of every fig flower pant had mushrooms growing around it. Possible in the family Strophariaceae. Perhaps a symbiote?"
And here's the back
"Interior of Pod"
"Possibly related to the Araceae?"
"Many pods have holes eaten in them, possibly by wasps. Are they eating the flies?
"The pods are pollen traps similar to an Arum or Ceropagia rhyncantha. Flies enter the narrow opening, which is surrounded by white flowers that smell of rotting meat. Inside, the walls are covered with hairs that push the flies deeper. The center of the pod is filled with a gigantic pollen-covered stamen, which thoroughly coats the flies. After two days, the pod wilts and cracks, releasing the pollen-covered flies. I have not seen any female pods yet."
"What will be the effect of this pollen getting into our world?"
I'll have more updates coming soon, so keep watching!
