Post by Bishop Morse on May 5, 2012 12:41:36 GMT -5
The Venerable Virtues
That gentle is the wind as it moves across your skin. The breeze is one of those little things that you welcome only in your subconscious thoughts. It doesn’t trouble you much as you’ve gone through the years, but sometimes it’s just didn’t see coming. But this walk is going to take quite a bit of time, so you best not spend to much of it entertaining those consuming thoughts that creep on you. My minds a bit rusty from the last time I was here, but I can never get enough of that wind.
The short, mossy grass is a wonder beneath your feet isn’t it. It’s cool to the touch, and its remarkable to consider that you may have been the first person in years to set foot upon each individual sprout of it. Last anyone was heard coming up here was Old Mr. Connor, who decided that the last thing he wanted to do with his life was see that great basin. The Universe is sure full of wonderful things, both big and small. And it’s no wonder why he wanted this to be the place he decided he hadn’t lived till he’d stood above it.
Whoops watch your step. Don’t worry, those little patches of white sand get carried in during the season of rain, they get caught up in those great gusts and gather together. When I came here the first time I got caught up staring at Greentop Rock too. But Greentop’s got a bad history of tricking people into tripping. I suppose that’s just how he gets his kicks. That great rock looks exactly the same as he did when I was last here. I sure don’t, but I’m sure he knows me.
These little hills on the big hills always got to me. I still think it was a little joke that providence had, making the ground on this fine planet lift and shift like waves on the ocean, and then freezing it right in the middle of it. Well I wasn’t the only that thought that, a lot of the others of my age thought the same thing. Caused a great deal of discussion for us in the older years, though an exact conclusion was never thought of. But I’m pretty sure I’m right.
Oh do be careful here. These bright granite rocks sure seem fine for stepping on, to test your balance, but some are loose. It’s all the wild growth here. They get up in between the rocks, and split them apart like a knife through freshly prepared cheese. It’s all right to take it slow here. You may be young and resilient, but I’m old and brittle. My minds still as strong as ever, but my body just can’t keep up with it. I suppose that happens to us all so we don’t get bored of life, the Lord on high sure knows I’ve never been bored of it.
Well, well, would you look at that? Those wild flowers sure blossom in nice don’t they? They’re as beautiful as any botanist or fancy gardener could make them. But they’re wild, you see. They’re free to roam and grow to wherever they choose. Nothing holding them back, nothing to stop them. Seems as though they’ve decided to stay here, and I don’t blame them. If I could I would have done the same, but I’ll settle for what I’ve gotten. And do you smell that potent scent they put in the air. It’s sure to drive anyone with allergies mad, with a sneezing fit more powerful then a tornado traveling across the plains. You’re mother had allergies, you’re lucky you didn’t catch them yourself. Comes from the other side of the family I think. You got my genes. We’ve got some of the strongest noses and lungs around, and that’s mighty fine if I do say so myself.
Spotted sidings of this hill really are something. If Greentop Rock has a full head of hair, then this hill has a hairier chest then your cousin Joseph, and that was a mighty thick coat that boy grew. But hey, if you look closely down there, you can almost see one of those little rucker-bushels you grabbed some berries off of. Maybe when you get home, your grandma can bake you up a fine pie with that. And if she can’t, well I’m sure your aunt would be more then happy to oblige that request. Don’t think ill of your grandma though, she’s getting on in years. She’s more mobile then I, but maybe that’s because I have a years on her. But even as she gets on in years, she’s as beautiful as she was that day I met her at the Gershals Ball, all those years ago.
My, those clouds certainly are a strange cluster aren’t they? A bit fluffy on the left there, but they get smoother the farther right you go. Funny how in this light, they look a bit dark, but when they were over the farm they were probably as bright a white as a baby’s first tooth. Reminds me of the Dorsal X5 flyer I saw once when I went to the “Big Town” back in 37’. Sure was an amazing machine, fastest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I wish I could have taken her out for a spin. Of course that models probably been out of service for decades now, but it was a sure shiny thing way back when it…….. was……….new.
My God, we’re here. I can’t believe we’re here. Those mountains, they’re as beautiful as remember. I counted them, I remember, there were five of them. Look hard off in the distance, you can see the fifth just peaking over its neighbor. I hadn’t realized that the snow was still stuck upon its face. It’s like a long white beard, to show everyone that they are men of age, and should be respected. And oh boy, do I respect them. It’s just pristine. It takes your breathe from you, just looking at them. It’s as though the words, just, don’t exist to describe them, and it suits those fine old men just fine. Yes, you can leave the stone right there. That’s perfect, right there overlooking the mountain. Just one final thing to do I guess.
Well, this is it I suppose. Thank you for making this trip with me. I’ve always wanted to do this at least once more. And now I have. There you are, just twist that off. That’s perfect. Ah, I can feel that cool air it licks the skin just like a bead of ice on a hot day. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching over you all. I’m sure I’ll see you again one day. Till then, thank you for helping an old man keep his venerable virtue.
The stone at this sight still sits today, and it reads.
Across this Basin lie the remains of Frank Thomas.
March 16, 2428 – August 4, 2516
That gentle is the wind as it moves across your skin. The breeze is one of those little things that you welcome only in your subconscious thoughts. It doesn’t trouble you much as you’ve gone through the years, but sometimes it’s just didn’t see coming. But this walk is going to take quite a bit of time, so you best not spend to much of it entertaining those consuming thoughts that creep on you. My minds a bit rusty from the last time I was here, but I can never get enough of that wind.
The short, mossy grass is a wonder beneath your feet isn’t it. It’s cool to the touch, and its remarkable to consider that you may have been the first person in years to set foot upon each individual sprout of it. Last anyone was heard coming up here was Old Mr. Connor, who decided that the last thing he wanted to do with his life was see that great basin. The Universe is sure full of wonderful things, both big and small. And it’s no wonder why he wanted this to be the place he decided he hadn’t lived till he’d stood above it.
Whoops watch your step. Don’t worry, those little patches of white sand get carried in during the season of rain, they get caught up in those great gusts and gather together. When I came here the first time I got caught up staring at Greentop Rock too. But Greentop’s got a bad history of tricking people into tripping. I suppose that’s just how he gets his kicks. That great rock looks exactly the same as he did when I was last here. I sure don’t, but I’m sure he knows me.
These little hills on the big hills always got to me. I still think it was a little joke that providence had, making the ground on this fine planet lift and shift like waves on the ocean, and then freezing it right in the middle of it. Well I wasn’t the only that thought that, a lot of the others of my age thought the same thing. Caused a great deal of discussion for us in the older years, though an exact conclusion was never thought of. But I’m pretty sure I’m right.
Oh do be careful here. These bright granite rocks sure seem fine for stepping on, to test your balance, but some are loose. It’s all the wild growth here. They get up in between the rocks, and split them apart like a knife through freshly prepared cheese. It’s all right to take it slow here. You may be young and resilient, but I’m old and brittle. My minds still as strong as ever, but my body just can’t keep up with it. I suppose that happens to us all so we don’t get bored of life, the Lord on high sure knows I’ve never been bored of it.
Well, well, would you look at that? Those wild flowers sure blossom in nice don’t they? They’re as beautiful as any botanist or fancy gardener could make them. But they’re wild, you see. They’re free to roam and grow to wherever they choose. Nothing holding them back, nothing to stop them. Seems as though they’ve decided to stay here, and I don’t blame them. If I could I would have done the same, but I’ll settle for what I’ve gotten. And do you smell that potent scent they put in the air. It’s sure to drive anyone with allergies mad, with a sneezing fit more powerful then a tornado traveling across the plains. You’re mother had allergies, you’re lucky you didn’t catch them yourself. Comes from the other side of the family I think. You got my genes. We’ve got some of the strongest noses and lungs around, and that’s mighty fine if I do say so myself.
Spotted sidings of this hill really are something. If Greentop Rock has a full head of hair, then this hill has a hairier chest then your cousin Joseph, and that was a mighty thick coat that boy grew. But hey, if you look closely down there, you can almost see one of those little rucker-bushels you grabbed some berries off of. Maybe when you get home, your grandma can bake you up a fine pie with that. And if she can’t, well I’m sure your aunt would be more then happy to oblige that request. Don’t think ill of your grandma though, she’s getting on in years. She’s more mobile then I, but maybe that’s because I have a years on her. But even as she gets on in years, she’s as beautiful as she was that day I met her at the Gershals Ball, all those years ago.
My, those clouds certainly are a strange cluster aren’t they? A bit fluffy on the left there, but they get smoother the farther right you go. Funny how in this light, they look a bit dark, but when they were over the farm they were probably as bright a white as a baby’s first tooth. Reminds me of the Dorsal X5 flyer I saw once when I went to the “Big Town” back in 37’. Sure was an amazing machine, fastest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I wish I could have taken her out for a spin. Of course that models probably been out of service for decades now, but it was a sure shiny thing way back when it…….. was……….new.
My God, we’re here. I can’t believe we’re here. Those mountains, they’re as beautiful as remember. I counted them, I remember, there were five of them. Look hard off in the distance, you can see the fifth just peaking over its neighbor. I hadn’t realized that the snow was still stuck upon its face. It’s like a long white beard, to show everyone that they are men of age, and should be respected. And oh boy, do I respect them. It’s just pristine. It takes your breathe from you, just looking at them. It’s as though the words, just, don’t exist to describe them, and it suits those fine old men just fine. Yes, you can leave the stone right there. That’s perfect, right there overlooking the mountain. Just one final thing to do I guess.
Well, this is it I suppose. Thank you for making this trip with me. I’ve always wanted to do this at least once more. And now I have. There you are, just twist that off. That’s perfect. Ah, I can feel that cool air it licks the skin just like a bead of ice on a hot day. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching over you all. I’m sure I’ll see you again one day. Till then, thank you for helping an old man keep his venerable virtue.
The stone at this sight still sits today, and it reads.
Across this Basin lie the remains of Frank Thomas.
March 16, 2428 – August 4, 2516