Penmanship of the Great Outdoors

[Waterfowler84]

I think it might be a well spent thread if you composed poetry, ghost stories or short stories. It might be fun and open minded.

With the positive response from Vegas I decided I would dedicate a thread solely to the form of communication all of us use daily here at Campingforums.com, the written word. If you have composed any short stories (fiction or non-fiction), song lyrics, poetry, or any other form of written artistic expression inspired by anything to do with the outdoors please feel free to share. I would bet that a majority of us on here would enjoy reading, and this can also be a great opportunity to see what others have to say about your work.

I will start it off with a spur of the moment poem I wrote back in '04. It describes our journey through life and how we must follow our hearts and trust in ourselves.

A Walk in the Woods

~As the sun peeks out of the haze in the dawn I hold my breath

Frost kisses the grasses in the fence line, it keeps me in step

As I exhale my moist breath is seen in the coldness of the morn

I turn my ears to the scurrying squirrels vocalizing their scorn

I stop my pace and gaze upon a cardinal sitting on limb

The magnificent scarlet bird hops to the ground and begins

Searching for sustenance to keep him warm amongst other things

As the sun finally takes over the world and warmth to the earth it brings

I begin my pace back where it was and come upon a fallen tree

The broken bark and scarred tissue shows me its age, and it talks to me

Tells me of its many years standing tall, proud, and dominant

And of its demise during a storm when mother nature was ominous

So on this tree I take a seat and ponder life’s great mysteries

And whether or not the path I’m taking will lead me where I need to be

To get to this tree I am sitting on now, as I wonder and gaze in awe

I had to take a certain path, but I know I haven’t strayed afar

I followed my eyes, my ears, and my feet led me to this hallowed place

I did not have a map, nor directions, and now here I sit, amazed

Life is like a walk in the woods when quiet solitude finds you

The one thing that leads you where you go will never deny you

Follow your heart, and all its loves, and you will never lose your way

Off the well beaten path I chose to go, and it is how I am here today

So I leave this place, and will never forget my journey through the woods

Has made me wise and knowing that I walk confident, foot after foot

Until another moment in time when all in the world seems right

I will follow my heart and my soul and know that I am in sight

Of the next tree around the bend where I will stop and ponder

Cause the path of life is like a walk in the woods, never be afraid to wander~

Written by Waterfowler84

[renodesertfox]

Very nice W, thanks for sharing! Don't know how many more poets and writers are campers too, I'm sure there are plenty. Perhaps this will spark a flurry of activity, we shall see.

One of my favorite writer/composer's is Bob Dylan, here's a little sample of his work:

"Bird on the horizon
Sittin' on a fence
Singing his song for me
At his own expense.
Well, I'm just like that bird,
Singin' my song for you.
We can make it through
And you can make it too!"

Once again thanks for sharing!

[Waterfowler84]

Mother of Life

Throughout the life I’ve lived till now at my young age of 25 years

I have loved my Mother Earth, to my heart I have kept her near

For she is my sole provider, the source of all I have

Creator of life, usher of death, the cause of good and bad

She gives without condition, yet we take from her with greed

If she had flesh like you and I so badly would she bleed

We scar the land and clear the woods to fill our pocketbooks

We dredge the seas, pollute the skies, we pillage her health like crooks

Who will stand and fight for her for she has no voice to speak

Who will say “I’ve had enough, my Mother is far too weak!”

Often times we shrug her off, and sometimes forget she’s there

What will it take for all to see, our Mother needs urgent care

Continued abuse and disregard will forever take her away

And once she’s gone it will be too late, please hear me when I say

To my Mother Earth I owe so much, without her I would not exist

I could not behold her beauty, and never would I feel her kiss

The kiss of her ocean spray on my cheek, or the salty wind in my hair

Never stand in awe at her mountain peaks, and breathe her crisp clean air

Never listen to her waters rush by as I rest on her river banks

And stare at her clouds she hung in the sky that float by me so charming and quaint

I ask you now as my sibling in life, help me love her as much as we can

Giving back to our Mother is part of our growth, from a child to a woman or a man

A miracle given to us from beyond the stars, a perfect creation at birth

There is no other that nurtures our lives, quite like our Mother Earth

[Waterfowler84]

Natural Love

Refreshing, like waking in the dawn to the pitter patter of a spring rain


Soothing, like the crackling of a glowing fire with its hypnotizing flame


Comforting, like being wrapped in blankets hearing the winter wind blowing


Undeniable, like the sunrise is sure to peak over the horizon each morning


Irresistible, like ripened fruit begging to be picked and indulged with a bite


Fascinating, like the northern lights dancing throughout the night


Blissful, like a sunrise so beautiful, a portrait painted by God’s hand


Eternal, as true love should be between a woman and a man

[angler57]

Some thing are forever

It's minutes before dawn. Am in that half awake stage of early morning. In only days my seventy-first birthday will pass.
Then I hear them, two men in the kitchen. Mumbled voices and the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying.
I hear the snap of a wooden match and inhale a wiff of a
newly lit camel.
Mixed with the tangy king edward cigar smoke of my Pop.
This can't be right.
How did we get to Michigan. That old summer cabin where Denny and Pop and I spent weeks each year.
I was the guys troling motor. Each morning at daybreak and each evening just befor dusk it was my job to row the heavy old metal Lund bath tube while pop sat in the bow and Denny in the stern.
When fish were being played to the boat, it was my task to have landing net at the ready.
Largemouth bass were usually caught. With a northern pike (snake) from time to time. Pike were all teeth and fury. To be dispatched with an iron bar and discarded.
It is all so real. Then is now. I loved these two men. One was my father. The other his best friend and I carry his name, Denny.
This is not the first time this has occured. Many times Pop says softly. Think need the that net boy. and Denny whispers, Bob looks like a big northern. Best hang on.
Hear the splash of cold spring lake water and fell a warmth that these two always triggered in me. A feeling of being needed and important. Here I mattered and earn my keep. Not something an eight year old feels often.
Each time these moments happen, they are so real that I hate to wake.
I can see and smell and hear all that is happening. But, then the moments are gone as are Pop and
Denny.
Yet that warmth and love the we three shared remains. I only pray I have left my children with the feeling such as these.
Today for most fishing is about bass tourneys. Fancy fast boats and high fives.
But, to me fishing is all about when Pop whispered, "think we need that net boy."

[Waterfowler84]

Angler...all I can say is amazing! Nothing is quite as soul stirring as hearing about other's deepest most vivid dreams, especially ones that touch an individual so deeply that they are in that moment with all their senses. Thank you for sharing that it was very moving and reminded me to appreciate all the time I have left with my father and his best friend, who like Pop and Denny, made me feel as part of something when I was a young boy and formed a bond with me much like yours to them. Kudos!!!

[renodesertfox]

Do you see what you started. Huh...Fantastic! I love this thread! Just don't use green type, please!

This is awesome! A whole new realm is upon us! Thanks Moonshine...I never thought for a moment you a poet! Well done, my friend!!!! And Angler has contributed too! Excellent! Thanks for sharing your soul!:o

We shall have apple pie tonight, by cracky...that's as poetic as I get!

[Waterfowler84]

Just don't use green type, please!

Done and done sir!! :-) Glad you are enjoying this thread, and I encourage more of you all to share with us if you have any sort of writings at all no matter what they may be. If you write about the outdoors let us enjoy your insight and views on the natural world that we all love.

We shall have apple pie tonight, by cracky thats right!

:D:D:D:cool:

[angler57]

For years I fished from smoke pots. Be it 3.5 hp or 65 hp, it was a gas powered kicker. Last boat came off Lake Michigan.
Center console and a treasure.
She was getting a lot of years on her and needed more and more maintainance. Wife and I were in the same condition.
With tears hidden from the new owner, signed papers making her his. Was as tough as losing a huntin dog.
But, that following spring realized it was one of those things that was meant to be. Saw a couple at a local park lake. They were in kayaks. Little 9ft. 6in. boats. After imposing myself upon them with questions, purchased our first of four, pardon,
five kayaks.
Wife and I bundled up in warm gear and vest as our learning began.
Soon learned that moving about using these tiny pieces of fiber glass silently on the water was easy. Shortly after that dumped a brush pile and out came three juvenile otters.
Amazing!!!!. A tiny, silent platform perfect for photographing
wildlife, fishing or just getting out and sharing moments with
nature.
Also found it a wonderful medium to share time with what people call the Great Spirit. God. Or, what ever word suits you best. Maybe just silent moments with your own thoughts.
Whatever you choose to call those special times they are restful and beyond value.
And, oneness with nature. For me they are better than hikes into the bush or sitting in a wooded grove with only the sun and wind as companions.
Admit as I age getting out of my lovely beat up ole boat. It is much like myself. Getting out of the kayak after a couple hours is difficult. Usually just beach her and crawl out. Legs won't pick me up anymore.
But, thats alright. Pride is for young folks. The boat and I have an understanding. I take her to the water and she keeps me safe and happy and afloat.

[angler57]

NOTE
My wife is always quick to make a point to me that like a kid, sometimes I say the darndest things. Once late in the evening I shared a rumanation with her that occured to me as we gazed into our campfire.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Gazing quietly and listening to the sounds of critters stirring in the bush I suddenly could see a fella sitting in a cave enterance stoking a fire.
He was attentive and fearful of the stirring of animals
in the darkness beyond the cave.
Further inside his shelter lay a dozen fur clad men, women and children. They all slept in a half awake slumber.
This fire at their homes door was all that kept them alive.
Then thru the rambling of the mind I could see a man carefully selecting scraps for a fire in the Cumberland gap wilderness. His mind reminding him that smoke or the smell of smoke could mean his death. This land was the scared hunting grounds of several tribes.
A trapper or hunter from the east. The white faced man was not allowed here. Death was the price for entering here.
Now I see four healthy well fed people.A man and a woman from the USA. Graying and a tad past middle age.
Seated across the fire are a young couple from Hamilton
Ontario. As they sit quietly sipping coffee as the northern lights flash on the horizon, they seem so close to those people in animal skins quaking in their sleep, before the fire light.
All of these people finding comfort and hope in flames that have sparkled and danced for thousands of years.
Things are never just a canoe or a camp fire. But, so much more.