For the next week I will be in northern Yellowstone on a photography mission. We will be following wolves and other wildlife in the snow from dusk till dawn each day. I will be updating hopefully with pictures and stories of my days, stay tuned. I am planning on posting some good stuff, you will just have to wait and see.
Do you remember the path We once walked together It was so long ago In a childhood dream It led us to nowhere But we where still happy It didn’t matter We had everything We didn’t need a tour guide Or a guiding hand Just each other and a smile To follow a path Yet to be paved Here we were safe Amongst the guardian trees Where the strongest voice Was the quietest And the world belong to our dreams Were has it gone now I can’t remember where it is I lost it in time Lead me back To the path we dared to pave I fear it is gone now If it couldn’t last The test of time What can? What about our dreams Will they be forgotten to In the end of time Remind me Guide me We will find it together And never forget That once we walked A path unpaved With the world in our hands And the future in our minds
My mom and I found a beautiful little niche in the woods full of rock piles. It was astonishing. There were so many of them of all shapes and sizes. Even some on tree branches. It amazed me because people took such care and time to make this little corner of the woods into an amazing place. I just wanted to thank those people for brightening up my day.
Today I shook The hand of a man Who truly has suffered But lived his life He is from Sudan On his face A story is told Sun made wrinkles Make him look old His dark complexion Shows who he is A Lost Boy He saw death But refused to die He fought for his life And earned every second His parents shot down Right before his five year old eyes So he turned and ran And never looked back Through starvation and thirst He walked the hard land Over one thousand miles Ethiopia, Sudan, Kenya All called home But never truly settled His entire past gone Lost in gun shots and screams Blue rivers run red But still this boy ran Trying to keep up his head Trying not to fall in the sand His fellow comrades The other lost children Trek along desert ridges Across barren lands Nowhere in mind Just trying to survive Carried everything on his back His history and hardships A burden weighed down Something pushing from behind To keep him from falling down So many fallen who never get back up His name on a board That guided his destiny Brought him from nothing But gave him everything From Kenya to America He traveled at last To freedom, a home But her could never forget his past So he took what he had And made something of it Finally coming to our school To tell us his story Of a time so sad He stands here before us Showing his burden Sharing his life At the end of it all I shook the hand of a man Who had earned his way Rough calloused hands With a strong hard grip That never let go But yet still he smiles Even after his time Traveling through lands Of blood and fire To find a home He is a Lost Boy Torn from his home At only five years old
I find myself standing downhill sometimes and feeling that the way to the top is so very far. When you stand at the bottom of the mountain everything else just seems so much bigger. Everything gets out of perspective and it is during times like these that we need to remember that things can seem out of your hands but nothing ever truly is. You just have to be up to the task. You have to start walking up the mountain at some point. It will be a long and hard journey, but the top will be insight eventually. Laying at the bottom of the hill doesn’t make it seem any better and won’t get you any closer to the top. So get up and climb. Let the journey begin.
