Sportsman72901Landscape Photos on Face's blog: "A New Year, A New Future"

Any one else about to get washed away besides me. Here in Eastern OK, it has rained 7 inches in 24 hours... I don't mind a little rain, but shit this is a little much. Can't even get out to the highway for the 3 different bridges either under water or washed out...

Chapter One: Home Again Tanner continued down the trail, pushing away the briers which over the years had attempted to take over the open space which the path provided. There were also parts of trees which had died since his last passing that lay across the narrow corridor. At times he had to stop and break or drag the old limbs out of his way, in order to get to where he was going. And after a few minutes of clearing the path once again, he was staring at his goal. Finally, his eyes caught sight of the one thing which brought him back on this quest. Sitting upon the outstretched branches of a huge red oak, were the remnants of what he remembered as the one place where his dreams came alive: The old tree house. Time had taken it’s toll on the once mighty fortress. Bits and pieces of boards, all of which he had carried to this place were strewn upon the ground below, poking out of the years of leaves which tried to hide and reclaim the now moss covered and rotting lumber. Tanner walked up to the great tree, and to his surprise the old wooden slats that he had nailed as steps were still there, although covered with the same lichen which was on the boards lying on the ground. He placed his hand upon the third step from the ground, and remembered the last time he had climbed up the old tree.

A Castle Among the Trees By Stephen D. Gould Tanner knew from an earlier time that he had been this way before. The sight of the old oak greeted him, like a long lost friend. It's trunk split in two, with one half laying halfway on the ground, it hadn't changed. Like a lone sentinel, it had remained here, faithful to his memory. In the twenty two years since he had been here before, it had remained the same: Broken but still proud. Twenty-two years, and it still in a way seems like only yesterday. Had it really been that long ago? But yes, he was 16 when he walked down this same path, so long ago yet, still fresh were the happy thoughts of those days. These were the woods that he grew up in. They might be larger now, but he knew them still as he had then: These were his friends, his closest friends. They may have never spoke a word, but they talked to his soul. They were always there for him, they never judged him. This was the place that he felt the safest growing up. As he continued to walk down the old, forgotten trail, Tanner saw squirrels nearby, apparently for the moment unaware of his presence. He stopped to watch them play, as he use to watch the squirrels long ago. As they finally became aware of him, and scampered up a large oak near them, he pondered a thought: How many generations could those squirrels be from the ones that he used to know. He continued down the path, all the while catching a glimpse of things that rekindled memories long forgotten. Tanner was so glad now that he had returned to this part of his childhood. The hustle and bustle of everyday life did not lend to him the courtesy of reflection on such things. So far removed from this nursery of thoughts and ideas had he been, that he was beginning to be overwhelmed at the rapidity which the dreams of yesteryear returned. In this world, he was anything his imagination could think of. Everything in this forest were his loyal subjects. In this place, he was King. And just as these thoughts began to collect themselves, he saw the one thing that he had returned to see: his castle among the trees…

I was in the A.F. for ten years. If I could be of any value, I would gladly go back in. The American soldier has simple rules to go by: We do, to the best of our ability, carry out all lawful orders given to us. We go where we are told to go, any time, and any where. We do have our own political views, however those views are not allowed to interfere with the mission. When the shit hits the fan, regardless what service you are in, we are all brothers and sisters, and we will in need do everything in our power to protect, defend, and stand with those whom we share this bond. All of us share these words: Duty, Honor, Country. However, we are still human. We shed tears. Our bodies are not immune to the cruelties of war. Our hearts fall, just as those whom we talked to as friends only 5 minutes ago have been silenced. We take this loss personally. One of our own is only in memory. When we are no longer in danger, we grieve. However, let it be known that we do not forget. And those who take one of our brothers and sisters away from us should be very afraid. For we are going to track you down and kill you and as many of your "buddies" as we can... With that happy note, Have a nice day. :)

I just wanted to say HI!!! to my friends... Been gone a few days. Ah, homework, tests, and Botany can suck... Till next time.

Little Mary Margaret was not the best student in Sunday School. Usually she slept through the class. One day her teacher, called on her while she was sleeping. "Tell me Mary Margaret, who created the universe?" When Mary Margaret didn't stir, little Johnny who was her friend sitting behind her, took a pin and jabbed her in the rear. "God Almighty!" shouted Mary Margaret.. The Nun said, "Very good" and continued teaching her class. A little later the Nun asked Mary Margaret, "Who is our Lord and Savior?" But she didn't stir from her slumber. Once again, little Johnny came to the rescue and stuck Mary Margaret in the butt. "Jesus Christ!" shouted Mary and the Nun once again said "Very good", and Mary Margaret fell back asleep. The Nun asked her a third question..." What did Eve say to Adam after she had her twenty-third child?" Again, Johnny came to the rescue. This time Mary Margaret jumped up and shouted, "If you stick that damn thing in me one more time, I'll break it in half!" The Nun fainted.

Entry for October 27, 2006 Winter closes in. Upon the horizon, dark clouds loom, marching ever forward to strangle the comforting warmth of the sun. A light absorbing curtain of gloom, with a creeping chill not unlike death's door. It weighs heavily upon my chest, and threatens to take the very breath from my lungs. Enclosed by blackness, as sticky and dark as tar upon the the roof, I feel trapped. Still able to move, but with no effect, as a leopard might have felt in the Pits of Labrea.

Entry for November 15, 2006 The November winds blow across the fields, bringing behind them the biting chill of winter. Huddled up against an old iron woodstove, trying to absorb as much of the heat that the fire within it can muster, a lone man fights against the silent coldness that surrounds him. The northwest wind, howling past his cabin windows, unabated by the trees that surround his safe haven, which have lost their protective cloak of leaves that through the summer, defended him against the burning rays of the summer sun. Oh for just a little of that warmth, the light of the sun streaming through the glass, would be welcomed like a long lost friend... Oh the smell, of hickory and oak burning, and the crackle of the wood as it burns. As pleasant as the sounds of the thousands of geese, that only two weeks prior, had passed overhead on their way to their wintering grounds. Yes, this life you finally have chosen for yourself, might not be the easiest lifestyle you could have chosen. But deep within, you know that this is the way God intended you to live. All of the hustle and bustle of city life, which you were all too happy to abandon, now reserved to just a few fond memories.

Deep in my heart Deep in my heart, I know that there is a woman, perhaps you, that is searching for the same things which I search for: A friend that can be trusted. A love that will stand the test of time. Someone that has weathered storms in their life, but has never let the light of their dreams die along the way. It seems that we both are searching for that special someone, who will hold us when we need holding, cry with us when we are crying, laugh when we are laughing, and walk side by side together for these all too few years we have to share our heart, mind, and soul. We do not want someone who we think loves or cares for us, but someone whom we know, without any doubt, are in love with the unique person we are within, and without. During the time that we have spent on this earth, we have had our share of triumphs and disappointments, joys and sorrows. Like a willow, we bend and sway to the winds which flow over, around, and through us. Yet we continue to stand, held firm to our beliefs as roots into the soil. Yet there are things which we need, that we can't provide for ourselves in order to flourish. I have a faith, a belief, that there is one woman, sitting at home, reading the ramblings of one man, sitting at home, looking for the same things. The same nourishing flow of love, friendship, honesty, devotion, and compassion which they themselves will unselfishly give in return. Are you this woman? If you are the one I have been looking for, if by my words I have touched some small part of you which looks for these things as I do, then by all means I would say to you: All I ask of you, is a small part of your time, to just say hi. To perhaps stop and give that part of me which I have lain upon your doorstep a chance.

Entry for December 21, 2006 Once again, it seems, a cloud looms upon my life. What light I had restored to me in these past few weeks, seems to have faded away, as so much vapors from a fire, extinguished by the tears of a once again wounded heart. I would not wish, the pain I feel, upon even my worst enemy. Must my soul be lain upon the whipping board once again? To what end does this torture relent? Yea, though I desire to recoil from the sting, I will rise. I will rise again, and again, and again, and yet again. For there is one, stranded in the wilderness of life, that I must continue this fight. I believe, with all my heart, with all that is within me, that there is true love in this world. And that love is truly worth the struggle. I pray a simple request: That there be one woman, above all others, that will stumble upon my pleas. That there be one woman, with whom my words will resound within her very core, to stir within her, a force which she has never known. That there be one woman, that longs for the sound of my voice, the heat of my breath upon her skin, the taste of my lips upon hers, and the touch of my finger tips. To share what life we both shall have remaining upon this earth.