Epic! Just Epic. The Breakfasts my Beloved prepares are Epic!
Hello! Benjamin from Brother’s Campfire here! The sun has set and a day of work is through. It was a tough day and…
I was disappointed in a few areas.
Fortunately for me, I have the kindest, most compassionate, and caring readers on the planet.
I have an intact family and we love each other.
I have a church and a lot of extended family.
I suppose the day has faded from memory. You all are amazing. If there are any of you out there that need anything, let me know and I will try to help you like you have helped me!
With that being said,
Due to time constraints, I was unable to write a blog post about my adventure. Gather round, and I will spin you a tale!
My Beloved needed me out of the house so she could work on her clothing business.
It was time to get outside. The kids were at school. I put on my trail runners and walked out front door, not quite knowing where I would go. I went to an old standby, Fountain Creek. It has always been a place of refuge to be alone.
In my youth, there have been many dark thoughts on the game trails of this wooded area. The inspiration of Jeptha Berengar, the Beast in the Ongoing Tale was cultivated here.
Twelve years of working in prison is a direct comparison to 12 years of school. Some of you know exactly what I am saying.
I found solace and safety, much like Jeptha in my story. That being said,
Every time there is opportunity, I take happy thoughts along to replace the old. I want the region to remind me of good, uplifting things. I sing, play music on my phone and pray.
On this particular walk,The woods were full of animals to include ducks, geese, and deer. Sorry there are no pictures!
A couple of miles in, I rested. I am not at peak condition with the fat burn of a diet. Seeing the creek I was to cross, I opened a refreshing bevarage and contemplated good things.
The crossing was cold. Very cold. So cold the snow felt warm. Seriously.
I was not alone. High above a gorgeous waterfall was a well kept cottage. The inhabitants were peaceful enough, but I kept my distance.
There were many such cottages, this being the nicest. Perhaps the chief lives there. Here is another one.
If you look closely, there is another cluster of cottages across the way in the trees.
After leaving this village, I could not shake the feeling of being watched.
While I saw no one, There were folks about. I was just as suspicious of intent as they were of mine. I continued on. My old stomping grounds were littered with about with artifacts.
This was funny to me. Perhaps this mostly abandoned homeless community was what they were referring to. I was cynical about this shirt, but not this hat.
It used to be pink, like all the clothing and baggage that surrounded it decomposing in the ground like her dreams. It was sobering. Whoever she was used to be a child with thoughts that did not include living here.
I went on my way down the trail. Here is a house where I spent a few years giving the opportunity to explore.
I went to my treehouse, built over 20 years ago. A board is the only remaining evidence. Remember, when you build something, build it to last. I am proud of my young self that even one plank weathered that many years.
The thoughts returned to the homeless. Why were they there? Is it what they wanted? I felt like I had to do something.
Then I stumbled upon this monstrosity. I would have taken a lot more pictures, but I was a little concerned and wanted to remain vigilant. There must have been 60 people living in this cluster of tents, tarps minivans, and tear drop trailers.
When I entered, I was met with stares. They were cordial, but it was clear I was not welcome. One resident began sharpening a knife as I passed. It was at this moment I stopped worrying about the decomposing camp earlier on the trail. It was unwanted trash left on purpose.
These people were making their village home.
8 or 9 miles in, I called it a day. I wanted to be home. A day that started with an epic breakfast ended in delectable dinner.