Introduction by the Artist

Hello Steemians! As some of you will know, I've been posting my detailed ink drawings from an illustrated novel. These were commissioned illustrations for a fictional novel titled ''Wind in the Arroyo''. The book was written by my mother and her best friend Peter.
Peter commissioned me to do the art for the book back in 2007. Sadly the book was never published. I have the first draft of Wind in the Arroyo in my possession. Today, I have decided to share this book and it's art with the Steemit community.
The story is inspired by the classic ''Wind in the Willows'' by Kenneth Grahame. You can learn more about this timeless story on Wiki: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wind_in_the_Willows.

Wind in the Arroyo is a fictional tale set in a parody of modern day Pasadena, California. Pasadena is a beautiful historic area in Los Angeles. It is full of fantastic architecture and vistas and is one of the prettier parts of L.A. county. You can find out more on Wiki: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pasadena,_California

Wind in the Arroyo is a fantasy story and has both animal and human characters based on real people. It can be whimsical, comical, and a bit dark at times. Keep it mind that the book is a first draft and will be slightly rough in places. Apologies in advance for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. It's still very detailed and entertaining in my opinion. I'd love to hear what community thinks about this book.

What is an arroyo? Wiki: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arroyo_(creek)

I will be posting the book in Chapters along with the illustrations. The book is 200 pages long with some Chapters being longer than others. Wow, this is going to take some time! I really hope you enjoy this :)

Right, without further ado, let's move on to the prologue!

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The Prologue

Present Day

Beulah Sputtered to life on the tarmac beside a private hangar. The sky was a cloudless blue. In the distance automobiles could be seen on the highway bordering the private airstrip. The plane waited, idling smoothly. The pilot finally received the go-ahead over the radio and the little plane rumbled onto the runway, quickly building up speed, and with no seaming effort was quickly airborne.

The pilot flew the little craft in a wide circle around the bay out over the sunlit waters and the golden strip of sand below.

The plane climbed higher and higher, heading eastward and following the line of the great transcontinental freeway towards the tall buildings in the distance. Turning north, just before the sprawling downtown metropolis of glass and steel, the pilot skirted the tall buildings avoiding certain updrafts and strict air traffic controls. The incongruous and fractured image of the little aircraft could be seen reflecting in some of the giant mirrored panels which lined the buildings. The droning of the cars on the freeway disguised the sound of Beulah's engine and they were invisible to those below who rushed about like ants at their business. Leaving downtown, the pilot flew towards the squiggling ribbon of highway known as the historic Arroyo Seco Parkway and the distant mountains, where a few white clouds could be seen. This parkway was the world's first, linking the bustling center of downtown Los Angeles to the miles of mansions, and the millionaires that built them, who lived in the city known as Pasadenaland.

The freeway quickly narrowed to two lanes as the cars disappeared into the deco-framed blackness of the tunnels. The plane skimmed the cluster of hills above. The roadway climbed upwards, paralleling the riverbed and skirting the edges of the tattered Victorian homes that were relocated during the construction of the city below. The pilot veered away from the highway, dropping just above the treetops which lined the concrete riverbed below. The terrain became hillier, and the mountains grew clearer in the hazy distance. The hillside banked on either side of the plane and an erratic shadow soared along the eastern slope. Before the freeway ended the pilot veered left, due north and across the roadway and cars that traveled it. Below was the ''dry riverbed'' of the Arroyo Seco itself, flanked by the wiggly boulevards of gracious mansions, old tress, and the beautiful city of Pasadenland itself, which was in the lap of the majestic San Gabriel Mountains.

A tiny stream of water meandered through the vast fields of California oaks. The hillsides grew steeper, and the views afforded by the stately homes on the plateau expanded. Ahead, the grand arches of the Italian Wedding Cake bridge could be seen spanning the Arroyo Seco, linking the original outskirts of the city of Los Angeles to the fashionable City of Pasadenland. Perched precariously aside the bridge was the Arroyo Vista Hotel and bungalows; for over a century a favored stop of holiday-makers seeking refuge from the cold East Coast winters, It's unfolding view of the iconic bridge was unrivaled to this day, and it's great tiled swimming pool afforded a cool vertical view of the towering span.

Flying even lower, the pilot seemed to throw all caution to the wind and expertly put the plane through the center arch of the bridge at a slight angle to the treetops.

Anyone who saw the aircraft from the ground could only be envious of the two people in their little seats; the cool, smoke-scented wind rushing past their faces. That feeling of freedom must have been truly intoxicating. The pilot brought the plane down lower again, then shot straight up into a fluffy cloud that was brought over the arroyo far atop the bridge, as if by design. The little aeroplane disappeared from view, no sound could be heard. It was as if the plane, the pilot and the passenger had all disappeared from the face of this earth.

Then suddenly down, plummeting from the clouds and eerily silent, closer now to the arroyo's eastern edge, the plane fell down, down straight towards the earth like an arrow from the sun. Moments from the ground, the noise of the engines cut back in. It was deafening. At the last instant, just before the inevitable crash into the side of the hill, the pilot brought the little aeroplane's nose up and they sped away across the arroyo towards the hills of Nimby Vista.

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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the Wind in the Arroyo prologue. I'll be posting the first chapter very soon so stay tuned :)

Feel free to leave your comments below. I'm always happy to receive feedback from the Steemit community. See you soon!