"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." -Shing Xiong *** "Do not go where the path may lead; instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson *** "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." -G. Randolf *** "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster *** "Imagnination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world." -Albert Einstein *** Defintion of Suburbia: A place where they cut down trees and name streets after them. -(Unknown, found on sticker) :p *** "A lie goes halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." -Winston Churchill***"Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly." -Louis Ginsberg ***"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." -Martin Buber

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Midnight Rain (a poem)

Midnight Rain
Written October 14th, 2011
Sweet velvet rain
Pattering on my roof
Sing me softly to sleep

The gentle whispers
Reach my ears
As you travel in swirling rivulets
Across the shingles
Of this midnight house

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

A Lucky Burden (a short story)

 A Lucky Burden
Written October 12th, 2011
Farmer Joseph made his rounds in the early morning as he always did, delivering to all his animals their breakfasts. First the cows, then the horses, followed by the sheep, chickens, and ending with the pigs.
            As he poured the slop into the pig trough, he watched one swine in particular trot over. It grunted as it walked and snuffed at the smell of food in the air with his slimy, whiskery nose. This certain pig could be identified by his front right hoof, which was pearly white, unlike the remaining three black hooves. Although Joseph called that pig many names, mostly cuss words, its official moniker was Runt. He had been a runt at one point, but now he was two years old and the fattest pig Joseph owned.
            Runt had been the sixteenth piglet of Old Maizy’s sixteenth litter; her last litter. She had died a few hours after giving birth, her seasoned heart unable to withstand the stress. Joseph had been quite fond of Old Maizy, and although he knew it to be irrational, he blamed Runt for her demise.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

The Ice Tyrant (a poem)

The Ice Tyrant
Written October 5th, 2011
The mighty trees burst into flames
Their last stand as forest warriors
Against the sweeping shadows cast by the Ice Queen
Leaves of ember rain upon the ground
And a vibrant wildfire spreads abound
Across the rolling, tumbling hills
Reaching the distant glowing horizon
The warriors crash like a firework meteor
Lighting up the world before descending into brown

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Montville Falls (review, rating)

Montville Falls
Moravia, NY
Hiked: September 25th, 2011
Reviewed: October 2nd, 2011
Interaction: 5 stars
Scenery: 4 stars
Diversity: 2 stars
Accessability: 2 stars
Size: small
Overall: 4 stars

This is an exhilarating, interactive hike that is about ninetry percent creek-walking with no defined trail. However, it is ranked as a difficult hike, and rightfully so. The hiker accesses Mill Creek through on of two cemetaries. We reached it via Section 9 of Indian Mound Cemetary, and began our descent near a large tombstone labeled C.A. Parker.

 Indian Mound Cemetary entrance

Seasonal Spirit (a poem)

Seasonal Spirit
Written October 1st, 2011
The cold surrounds a small house
Moving in with surprising, silent speed
Fingers of frost reach across the window pane
A warm orange glow radiates from the other side
A family gathered around a friendly hearth
Holding back the cold and keeping it tame
With mugs of steaming cocoa at their side
And loaves of toasty pumpkin bread
Fresh from the stove; they keep good mirth

The children huddle on the floor of blankets
Proud parents on the couch holding each other
Looking on with a quiet smile
The cat perches on a shoulder
And the large dog squeezes into a lap
As they smile and laugh they seem not to notice
That outside it only gets colder

Waiting on the Shore (a poem)

Waiting on the Shore
Written October 1st, 2011
Icy September water
Sighs softly as it kisses the shore
Pitch black from the touch
Of a tense, starless night
The water swirls, rolling, undulating,
Lapping at my feet

A breeze rushes by
Lifting and tossing my hair
So it can touch my neck;
Soft, exposed, and vulnerable
Leaving a sinister whisper in my ears
A secret I can’t quite decipher

Little Brother (a poem, a dedication)

Little Brother
Written September 18th, 2011
Little brother
Chase me around the house
Jump and tackle
Trying to take me down
Push my homework
Out of your way
Scatter papers across the floor
Unplug my game
Right when I was about to win
Then stand there and look at me
With that lopsided grin