Praises be our heavenly Maker

Praises be our heavenly Maker

Tonight I saw the heavens divide

Indeed I was betwixt whilst the waves of

Moonlight washed away the end of eventide

And the shards of that breaking

Left roads of starry paths, ours for the taking

To where the Maker resides

Tonight I saw the heavens divided

It was decided in

A white light, unnatural for the midnight hour,

That their hearts be united

And not in the darkness cower

Tonight I saw the strong man tremble

In that still and silent shaking,

Came conviction – no longer placating

Well be still my beating heart,

Your departure sacramental

Go in fear you benighted thing,

I remain not sentimental

Tonight I saw the devils cry,

Their sanctuary invaded

Run, run, the clouds are breaking

The Lord He hath pervaded

Tonight I saw a vision of the morn’

And it is sworn

Behold He comes, riding on the clouds

With a trumpet call

Do not your sin mourn,

For it is a new day dawning

Behold in the warm light,

The Adorned, He is coming

His truth a pure rend

So stay not your sword,

Nay brother nor Prince

Salvation is here

Rinse our hearts be reborn

In exalting, ovatius

Chord

The Lord,

Has come

Addiction

Addiction

Now, that’s the kind of sin to revel in

The kind the bevels men, once sharp

And sends an arrow to level them,

Doesn’t quite pierce their heart,

But instead leaves it to rot

Addiction

Now, that’s the kind of sin that gives men a fixture

Some fuzzy black center, with a lot of shading

So you don’t notice, that that picture of your family is fading

All the while

Telling you,

 You’re not worth saving

Addiction

It’s like, some sort of curse

With the same comforting verse

It’ll, empty your coin purse and

Set your soul in a hearse

Addiction

It’s like a ghost calling to its master

And it’s seeking an answer

You’re running faster and faster

You’ve got a fever from the separation,

It’s seeking reparation,

And your body can’t take the friction

Yeah, that’s

Addiction

It’s a contradiction

It’s your prescription, and your affliction

It’s a vixen, you can’t evict

Who seeks to inflict a nondescript

Derelict, convict

Empty, soulless, Godless man,

Dead

Your subscription,

It wears at your conviction

Because it’s restriction is out of your jurisdiction

That, was found in

Crucifixion

Peck Ranch - The Beginning

Peck Ranch – The beginning

Our MOFEP housing at Peck Ranch 

(otherwise known as Camp Whippoorwill)

View from our housing

The Place – Peck Ranch

The beginning.  The housing at Peck Ranch wasn’t the cabin I imagined, but it was the beginning – and that’s what was important.  Although the interior of our strewn-together trailers initially felt like a sterile maze, it represented accomplishment, independence, and my future, not to mention tick & chigger bites.  Besides, the view down the road felt like an African Savannah (hey, use your imagination). 

 

The Characters

I lived here with my crew – Ryan, Keith, and our lead Jean; the bird crew, and our housing manager, Robert.  

Ryan is that helpful guy with a good heart.  He fills the silence and makes people comfortable.






 

Keith is our triathlon runner with a penchant for that surprising, memorable one-liner.

 Jean…there isn’t really a collection of simple words to tell you about Jean.  But let me give you this – she gives me a center to talk to through the excitement and the change and really helped me refill after a stressful weekend.







 

Oh yeah, of course, there’s me.  And I guess since I’m writing, I get to be cool.  So. . .

Yes, this is me thinking I’m cool.   

I really enjoyed hanging out with the people on the bird crew.  Amy is a sweet girl who reminds me of an old friend, Jenni.  She has a lizard.  Lyndsey is an awesome cook with a delicate, calm spirit.  She plays banjo.  Doug is funny guy with an easygoing personality.  He does nature photography, entirely self-taught, and writes letters.  John plays basketball and finds endless pleasure from ribbing the others.

The job

This is where I work.  Pretty.

 

Ok, sometimes.  I’ll get started admitting right now, that I romanticized field work, just a bit.  On some days, I work here. 

 

I’ll translate:

 

 

Ok, now that that’s over, I really do love the work so far, and yes, it has been the reflection on life I was looking for.  My actual job has us looking at the ground level vegetation throughout different MO forests and monitoring change over time.  That info tells you about the dynamic ecology of the landscape, and lets you make more informed decisions for restoring our Oaks.

But first, we had to get through Botany Training.  Now, that’s a story in itself, and I’m trying to tell you about the beginning.  The important thing to know is that handling both those good and bad experiences served both to cause that reflection I sought, and to give me an escape from myself when I needed it.  In my time at Peck, I realized that it was ok to let the people at home, be at home.  That I needed to live my life out there, and visit when I could.  It was mostly just the way I thought about things, but that freedom to neglect making a phone call was the first step that would prepare me for the rest of this thing.  As for the next, well, I’m writing to you from Whetstone now, and I’ll let you know as they come. 

Look for more random thoughts and Peck Ranch stories & funnies as they come (like, why I told you this place is called "Camp Whippoorwill".)