Searching far and wide
Encircling landscape
Riding each morning
Cowboy’s day takes shape
Working ‘til sunset
Riding saddleback
Fulfilling life’s dream
Cowboy’s tasks unpack
Tracking each stray steer
Bringing safely back
Riding in cold rain
Cowboy’s small payback
Earning little pay
Tasting land’s treasures
Riding hard saddle
Cowboy’s few pleasures
Living with toughness
Facing shortcomings
Riding treeless range
Cowboy’s homecoming
Sitting eerily silent after these forgotten years
The abandoned firehouse rests without fears
Remaining alive, vivid memories reign again
Quietly remembering all that had once been
Rising above a busy street, the firehouse stands
Firefighters arrive on deck, with powerful hands
Living quarters on the second floor make due
Firefighters’ labors never seem quite through
Recalling a flawless safety record that shines
Teamwork and training work together just fine
Feeling safe, homes and merchants live nearby
They all witness courage as every day races by
Filling the ground floor, two red engines wait
The ensuing alarm will signal their next fate
Waiting side by side . . . shiny, clean, and bright
Pumper and ladder engines, eager to take flight
Providing basic firefighting is the pumper’s place
While the ladder reaches high floors, just in case
Visiting a nearby grade school one October day
The ladder engine shows off in a marvelous way
Encouraging children ask the ladder to go high
Accommodating firefighters look prepared to fly
Returning to the firehouse, a calm and inviting sight
An alarm goes out, both engines prepare for the fight
Sliding down a pole, firefighters destined for action
Their special clothing assembled, ready in a fraction
Rolling out to the street, piercing sirens wail
These seasoned warriors intend never to fail
Weaving through traffic, the engines arrive in time
Quick response calms the fire before it can climb
Remembering the past, the excitement is long done
The old firehouse stands ready for one final, fire run
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it.
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began.
Mary Oliver (1935-2019) was a best-selling American poet, who received many honors for her work. Her love of nature can be found in much of her writing, and it resulted in honors from the National Book Award in 1992 and Pulitzer Prize in 1984.
From the words of American pastor and Christian teacher, Charles Stanley: “Obeying God’s will in our lives should not be a burden but a thrilling adventure that we walk through with Him each day.”
Believer’s obedience
Thrilling adventure
Filled with Father’s blessed grace
Divine, joint venture
Trusting with patience of Job
Faith’s foundation grows
Living upon Father’s rock
His way always knows
One step follows another
Smallest matters count
Daily walk of faith matures
Father’s blessings mount
Escaping from sin’s darkness
Mercy marks life’s route
Repenting for transgressions
Father’s grace takes sprout
Obedience grows with love
Leading back to God
Life’s choices, Father rewards
His glory’s tripod
From Psalm 40:6-8: “Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear. Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required. Then I said, ‘Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.'”
Downstream from the steamboat port of Fort Benton, the currents of the Missouri River find ways to hide a mystery from the night.
Montana Territorial Secretary, Thomas Francis Meagher, has disappeared late at night outside of Fort Benton. In the absence of the Territorial Governor, he is the acting governor.
What has happened to Meagher on this quiet evening on July 1, 1867?
Traveling by steamboat, Meagher appears to have fallen overboard. His body is quickly swallowed up by the Missouri River’s unforgiving waters, never to be seen again.
No one really knows what actually has happened, or better yet, they are keeping quiet about the dark happenings on this July night.
Meagher is known to be a heavy drinker. Is he killed in an accidental drowning when he mysteriously falls overboard?
Or did he succumb to suicide provoked by disillusionment with his shattered, personal dreams?
With many enemies, perhaps Meagher is murdered aboard this steamboat, and his body is forgotten as it conveniently floats far downstream in the swift currents of the river.
This “immortal” Irishman’s life is honored with a high degree of irony. In an unusual tribute for a relatively unknown man with a dubious past, a statue of him is erected in 1905 and placed on the grounds in front of the State Capitol in Helena. In the central region of the state, Meagher County is named for him.
Here are a few additional facts about Thomas Francis Meagher:
He is born in Ireland in 1823.
As an Irish nationalist, he participates in the Rebellion of 1848 and is sentenced to serve in a Tasmanian prison. However, he escapes in 1852, and eventually ends up in the United States.
During the American Civil War, he joins the Union Army as part of the “Fighting 69th” Irish Brigade. He rises to the rank of brigadier general.
Following the war, his dreams take him to the Montana Territory. In his future, he hopes to build an Irish-Catholic colony and pursue a career as a U.S. Senator.
This short story was written in August, 2019. The storyline is loosely based on the personal experience my brothers and I gained from a childhood trip to Yellowstone National Park back in the 1960s.
Chapter 1
The three brothers are excited about the family’s vacation to a faraway national forest. Being an adventurous trio, they always seem to be finding themselves in trouble, and this vacation trip may just punch their ticket once again.
The family makes a stop on their first day out. There is a gorgeous canyon with an incredible waterfall. All of this waits for the family, nestled and hidden in the tall pines of the dense forest.
While Mom and Dad are gazing at the spectacular scene and taking photographs with their new high-end digital camera, the brothers three take an excursion to discover more about the waterfall. The sound of the cascading water can be heard for miles.
Gene is the youngest brother, and the biggest risk-taker. Nothing ever seems to frighten him. He leads the way through the thick pines as the boys find themselves closer and closer to the roar of the falls.
The oldest brother, Pete, follows close behind. He tries to be alert because Gene usually marches straight into harm’s way. Trailing behind, follows the middle brother, Craig. Barely noticed by the boys, the terrain begins to slope more and more, downward towards the dangerous canyon.
The pace of the brothers walk quickens, and their excitement grows with each step. Gene shouts over the noisy falls, “Let’s see how close we can get to the water.”
Little does he know how prophetic his words may soon become.
Craig’s steps even more tentatively through the challenging terrain and the pines. He notices the steep drop through the trees to the rushing and roaring river below.Pete calls out, “Keep your eyes looking up.”
Oops . . . too late!
Chapter 2
And the story continues . . . more trouble awaits the threesome of adventure-seeking brothers.
The charging water from the falls nearly drowns out Pete’s warning. The trio of boys has ventured far past the safety zone.
Craig stares straight down at the bottom of the deep canyon. His eyes fill with frightened trauma. The angry river below, with the deafening sound of the falls, is too much to bear.
He grows more and more terrified, and his eyes are locked on to the danger below. With his eyes no longer watching his step, Craig feels his feet sliding on the steep ground, surrounded by prickly pine branches. He doesn’t see a protruding tree branch.
Colliding with the stiff branch, Craig’s body spins around as he is knocked to the ground. No longer on his feet, his body propels down the slippery slope like a missile. Closing his eyes, his hands miraculously grab hold of a stout pine branch above his head.
Craig lets out a scream, “Help! Help me!”
Pete and Gene can’t believe what has just transpired. Somehow, they have managed to stay on their feet. As Craig tumbles towards the canyon’s rim, he narrowly misses taking both of them with him.
Hearing Craig’s continued screams for help, the brothers need to come up with a rescue plan . . . immediately! They are too far from Mom and Dad for any help to arrive from them. They need to deal with the situation on their own.
Cautiously, the two boys slowly move down towards their brother. One misstep and one of them (or both) could be taking a plunge. The prospects of all three brothers making it out of this jam in one piece grow dimmer by the minute.
Gene steps gingerly, closer and closer, to reach his stricken brother. He sees Craig’s grip growing weaker as the pine branch appears to be breaking loose. Pete follows close behind, ready to help Gene rescue their brother.
The two boys stop just inches away from Craig’s hand, which has a death grip on the weakening branch. Pete anchors himself to a larger pine branch with one hand. His other hand reaches out to Gene.
The boys attempt to create a human chain to bring Craig back to a safer place. Suddenly, Pete’s hand slips away from the pine branch, and he tumbles into Gene. Both boys nearly join the river below, but Gene finds another branch to grab as well as more solid footing.
Pete’s hand replaces Gene’s hand on the branch as his other hand connects with Gene’s hand. The boys know this might be their final attempt to save all of them from the pickle they are in.
Craig continues to shout for the boys to save him. His impatience only makes the situation even more precarious.
Gene and Pete anchor their feet on the firmest ground they can find. Their feet dig in for balance and stability. With their human chain stronger than before, Gene reaches towards Craig’s hand.
The three brothers have reached a final destination, without any more chances. Gene calls to Craig, “You need to be ready to release your hand from the branch as I grab your hand.”
Craig nods in silence. He is much too petrified to say anything.
The rescue line is ready to make one final attempt. The wild river waits below as well. The next few seconds will decide everyone’s fate.
Gene reaches for Craig’s hand while Pete provides the anchor to hold all of them up. In an instant, Craig feels his brother’s hand and grabs hold. Together, Gene and Pete carefully pull Craig up the slope . . . one step, then two, finally three.
At last, the brothers are united again. They slowly and cautiously crawl and walk back up from the treacherous canyon rim.
In a few minutes, they emerge from the pine trees. Their arms and legs bear several scratches, abrasions, and bleeding from the spiny tree branches and the hard ground. Their dirty faces are topped with matted down hair full of pine needles. This disheveled threesome of thrill-seeking comrades is finally safe.
Mom and Dad turn around. They have been oblivious to everything until now. They both say in unison, “Were you boys playing again?”
Early morning’s reversing wind
No longer facing fierce headwind
Life takes comfort in day ahead
Thrilled to be awake, out of bed
Skipjack sailing away from home
Leaving Choptank’s berth, free to roam
Adventure waiting, take it on
Facing nature, ready with brawn
Pride of Maryland’s Eastern Shore
Nathan of Dorchester explores
With summer day’s life-giving breeze
She skims across these waves with ease
Distant river shoreline fading
Chesapeake Bay, now invading
Each crew member tackles his tasks
Loving this boat, each effort basks
With warm breezes, life’s sails now fill
Each port of call, sharing goodwill
The inspiration for this poem comes from my travels to Maryland’s Eastern Shore along the Choptank River at Cambridge. While I haven’t sailed on the Skipjack Nathan of Dorchester (yet), it is something I would enjoy experiencing during a future summer trip back to my wife’s hometown.
Little Johnny hurried down the sidewalk. Catching his breath upon reaching his school bus stop, he waited and waited.
Soon his fate began sinking in. He had missed the bus . . . again!
The warm and sunny morning invited him to walk across the street to a park. Curious and feeling playful, he explored and enjoyed some spontaneous fun. Readin’ and writin’ and rithmetic could wait a spell.
Minutes turned into a couple of hours. Feeling hungry, Johnny discovered a perfect hideout under a nearby pine tree. He pulled out his brown bag lunch.
Following a quick lunch, he felt a bit sleepy. Fresh air, plenty of exercise, and a filling lunch made him drowsy. Curling up under the tree, Johnny was soon snoozing on a bed of soft needles.
Stirring awake, the noise of his rickety school bus shuttling down the street reminded him that school was over for another day.
Upon reaching his house, Johnny’s loving mother met him at the door. Her stern-looking frown told him to watch out . . . caught again!
Kayaking the whitewater on the West Fork of the Stillwater River seems like an easy adventure to enjoy for Pete and his pal, Bill.
Bill, the daredevil of the twosome, pipes up, “What can be so tough about navigating this river?” The duo has spent many hours on the water back in Billings at Lake Elmo, a serene and small lake at a city park.
Now traveling to the Beartooth Ranger District of Montana’s Custer National Forest, the two men figure they can comfortably kayak the Stillwater as well.
The adventurers arrive at the river, and they have never seen whitewater turbulence quite like this. The river is running fast as the thundering rapids bubble with extra amounts of energy splashing off of the numerous, large boulders in the channel.
Thinking to himself, Pete looks with a bit of apprehension upon the scene, “This might be more than we bargained for.”
Bill looks ready to take on anything, and soon the adrenalin rush consumes any nervousness left in the kayaking tandem.
Both men are equipped with helmets and wetsuits, and each will be piloting his own kayak for the next few miles.
A harrowing journey awaits the two river crusaders. Their eyes grow bigger with worry as they pilot around blocks of stone in the water. The spray from the fast-moving water hides some of the other dangers . . . concealed tree snags and submerged rocks. Occasionally, tree branches reach out into the river from the bank.
Paddling and steering their small crafts, the men try to allow the river’s downstream current to propel them along. Soon both men realize . . . much too late . . . the Stillwater reminds them of who really is the one in control.
Just missing another oversized boulder, Bill flips his kayak over and then pops back up above the river’s boiling, frothing surface. His “Evil Knievel” eyes are filled with fright. He thinks to himself, “This ain’t Lake Elmo!”
Pete dodges a series of low branches near the far shoreline of the river. He overreacts and dumps himself upside down into the river as the kayak takes him for a short submarine ride. He loses sight of Bill as his kayak returns to the surface, minus his paddle.
Eventually, the tired and haggard pair of kayakers stagger to their destination, pull their battered kayaks out of the river, stumble into their pick-up trucks, and cautiously drive over to the Cowboy Bar and Supper Club at Fishtail. As the humbled duo walks into the restaurant for a quiet, relaxing meal, Pete is heard to say, “Lucky we made it!”
While I have never used a kayak, I have floated a few rivers. However, they seem quite tame compared to the energetic Stillwater River. The story is pure fiction, but the locations are “real” Montana places. Here’s a short video clip of kayaking on the Stillwater. Enjoy!
Here is a sneak peek of a short story which has been sitting in my “to later be finished” folder. This preview presents the beginning of the story in a very unfinished format. There is more editing and work to be done. Right now, the title is “On the Run.”
Dateline: St. Louis (30 years ago)
The First National Bank was robbed at gunpoint this morning. The amount of cash taken appears to exceed one million dollars. Police confirmed that the outlaw couple of Liz and Winston pulled off the heist.
Thirty years later . . .
On a bright, sunny May morning, Carl steps into the kitchen to kiss his bride of 30 years. Emma is preparing his favorite breakfast with an extra helping of love. The kitchen is filled with the delicious smells of crispy bacon, hot coffee, and perfectly browned waffles.
As Carl enjoys a perfect breakfast with Emma, their thoughts center on the plans for the day. The couple, living near Noxon, appreciates the isolated beauty of northwestern Montana. With a population just over 200, the small town atmosphere suits Carl and Emma just fine. Noxon sits along Montana Highway 200 with the Clark Fork River flowing about a quarter mile from their cozy cabin.
Today is Wednesday, which means a trip to town for Carl and Emma. They complete their weekly shopping one day each week, and Wednesday offers them a chance to leave their pristine, yet isolated home. Since Carl and Emma arrived in the area nearly 30 years ago, they live almost like hermits in the trees along the Clark Fork. Very few of the local folks pay much attention to the quiet, retired couple.
As Carl and Emma prepare for their weekly shopping in Noxon, a newcomer arrives in town. Pete Martin, formerly Chief Detective Martin of the St. Louis Police Department, has traveled to the northwestern corner of Montana for a long-awaited fishing trip. Since losing his wife to a long-term illness a few years ago, his friends have been urging the retired detective to take such a journey.
Now that you have read the beginning of the story, I am sure your mind is filling with what may happen next. There is much work to go on this story, and dialogue needs to be added between the three main characters. I don’t have an exact completion date in mind, but sometime this fall should be a tentative deadline.
Big Sky Buckeye 