Cedar Valley Sunrise

Quiet darkness lies gently over the sleeping valley. Fog provides a cold cover, wrapping around the hills. Light from a new day turns the darknes blue. Every imaginable shade of blue shades the morning. Deep rich navy at the base of the hills, shimmering azure shines from the morning sky. The snow is the soft blue of a baby's blanket and the fog gunmetal grey. Distant farm houses with their tendrils of smoke and twinkling lights appear from the depths of the valley. Woodsmoke passes briefly on the air. Rich reds and purples color the clouds and white crystals of frost hang heavily on the trees and brush. The sun crests the mountains and the sage erupts into millions of twinkiling lights, every branch tip holds a spark, melting frost turns the valley into a sagebrush chandelier. The valley stirs, stretches and comes to life, refreshed, renewed and full of promise.

This Long and Lonely Road

It has always been there, laid before me by fate, this long and lonely road. Love I have, love I know, but still I face, this long and lonely road. I can't see another path, so I'll carry on, down this long and lonely road. Friends and family are achingly few, they can't save me, from this long and lonely road. Darkness,demons and dread await, I face them all, on this long and lonley road. My strength is failing, my heart is weak, and to the far horizon it stretches out, this long and lonely road. So through the falling dusk I carry on, I can't stop now, I have come too far, down this long and lonely road.

Autumn, The Herald

How we rejoice with the first cool days of fall. Summer is past, the dust is gone and the sweltering heat an unpleasant memory. Bright sunlit mornings fade into short refreshing afternoons. Orange, gold and yellow cover the hillsides with soft memories of summer sunshine. The mountains have donned their winter nightcaps of snow. Flights of geese pass overhead as they sojourn to warmer climes. Sunrise backlights steam rising from ponds and streams as ducks settle to feed. Squirrels scamper frantically to hoard food against the lean season ahead. Deer and elk begin to migrate to lower ground to take the last of the green forage. Leaves rustle underfoot as they carpet the ground. It is the year's sunset.

Fall serves it's purpose as the harbinger of the coming darkness. The last chance to prepare for winter's reign. It is coming with all it's fury. Cold short days lead into long frigid nights filled with winter's emptiness. Death awaits the weak and unprepared. There is no mercy for the unindustrious laggard. Snow will cover the once green fields with a barren blanket of despair. Life will struggle in vain against the icy grip of death. Once strong, vibrant life will be crushed under the onslaught. Night approaches.

Prepare, for now is the time.

Magic Mountain

A fall campout is always a special time. With the changing foliage, cool air and relief from summers oppression it is a sure bet to revive the spirit. Recently I had the chance to share just an occasion with my children.
It all began innocently enough. A long walk through a bright fall afternoon, the kind that seems like it is evening at noon. A constant wind was our companion for the day. Fresh air and solitude lifted our spirits as the mountains tested our legs. Soon enough it was time to retire to camp for the evening. The pines towered over our little camp as we prepared the evening meal. Sunlight played among the branches and chased shadows around the forest. Robins, jays and woodpeckers provided the entertainment as dusk captured the sun and sheparded it out of sight. A campfire to warm our hands and conversation for our hearts lessened the deepening gloom of nightfall. Sleep beckoned my little ones and could no longer be ignored. Soft goodnights and sleepy I love you's accompanied blinking eyes and stifled yawns as they drifted off. I was left to the tender mercies of the mountains and the night. The quiet even breathing of my life's light filled the tent with sweet music. Outside, our companion from the day's hike roared through the treetops. Branches creaked and groaned as the trees swayed to the winds persistence. All, for one brief moment in time, was good. There was magic on the mountain.

Walk With Me, Hold My Hand

The day to day grind wears at my spirit. The tasks before me seem to swell instead of shrink. My hope for a better life fades with each day. It is my nature to see what is heavy and burdensome; to dwell on that which drags me down. Yet there is light in the gloom, a spark to illuminate my heart. Take a walk with me daddy, hold my hand. The night is dark and I am afraid, hold my hand. I need reassurance, hold my hand. I am growing older, I need you still, hold my hand. Life is short and will end all too soon, so walk with me and hold my hand.