day terrors

The crows fled before him in splashes of darkness against the coming dawn. It was often said that such birds were omens of ill fortune. He’d never seen them that way. He had always been fascinated by their ability to fly and he had long been searching for a flock of us his own. He wasn’t likely to find one but that didn’t keep him from hoping. He paused long enough to watch them disappear into the gloom where his eyes could no longer penetrate and then he lifted his gaze to the eastern skies. Very soon a new day would start and he still had a ways to go before he was safely within the confines of his home.

The bard had warned them not to get caught outside during the day.

It used to be that there were certain risks that could be taken while the sun was up, to get water, or relieve oneself, or tend to something else immediately near the house. But, the last time the bard had come through to sing his songs and share his tales he had warned all who would listen that the daytime would soon be completely unsafe. Only those who had listened survived the following weeks. The rest disappeared but only after their painful screams floated away from their homes.

Trist had been friends with the bard before he’d taken on the noble calling and so had trusted his word and stopped going out in the daylight. He had spent some time wondering if he would have listened so well if he hadn’t known the story master before. In the long hours of sunlight, there was time to ponder all kinds of what ifs and what could have beens.

Stepping forward again, Trist quickened his pace. He needed to hurry.

He’d spent the night checking on and chatting with his closest neighbors. He did that most nights. Trist didn’t mind that nobody ever seemed to come around to check on him. They were scared or had families to look after or had to spend the safe nighttime hours toiling away to provide for themselves and their loved ones. He understood. That was one of the reasons he was willing to go out and knock on doors each night. He didn’t have those same set of worries and responsibilities.

Being friends with the bard had certain perks like that. Trist did not take that for granted. He took it upon himself to help his neighbors as much as he could.
A hint of sunlight flashed across his path and Trist cursed. How he longed to be a bird. He could simply take to wing and fly away from the danger. He was fairly certain that he would be safe in the sky.

His front door came into view and Trist began to sprint.

He knew he was being paranoid. It was still too dark. There was no reason his heart needed to race the way it did, or his palms sweat, or his mind linger on the worst that could happen. He had heard that worst happening to some of his neighbors, some of his friends, though. And their screams were not easily forgotten.

i am home

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Batter, Ritter and the Minarets stand guard over the snow-covered landscape of the Eastern Sierra.  The aren’t the tallest peaks or even the most imposing, but those sorts of distinctions matter little to me.  In the winter they are hardly ever long from my sight as I snowboard the runs at Mammoth.  In the summer they are a familiar landmark I can use to pinpoint my location while wandering the trails of the backcountry.  Either way, summer or winter, when I see these famous towering rocks I know I am home.

fault

It didn’t look like much from the street.  The two stories were different colors and different shapes and the second floor looked like a manufactured home.  Which made sense because it was.  How it came to be placed on top of a normal single family residence isn’t much of a story.  He paid off a construction crew in cases of beer to make that mistake.  It took four cranes and two giant excavators to hoist the mobile home up there without severally damaging the structure.  Perhaps, if the crew had waited to partake of their spoils until after the job was completed, the large cracks that ran down the two long sides of the unit could have been avoided.  But, we cannot change what has already happened.

He lived alone but had friends over often.  The newcomers arrived excited to tour such a unique building in hopes that the inside was just as eccentric as the out, but they always left disappointed.  Those who came more than once were invited back because they had seen the true worth in what had been created.  Though, they were all surprised they had been let in on the secret.

To his face they praised his ingenuity and preparedness.  Behind his back they laughed at the absurdity of it all.  The waste.  The unnecessary use of time and resources.  They called him a bit off.  They scoffed until the ground began to shake and then they raced to his house to take advantage of the protection they had thought useless.

How could they have known the fault lines would become active again?  How could he for that matter?  But, those questions mattered little when the shaking lasted for days and a canyon opened where their houses had once stood.  All was lost, except for his modified home.

It rode the tidal waves of earth until the pressure became too great and then the first floor collapsed upon itself as it had been designed to do.  The rollers and tethers between the two floors allowed the manufactured home to rise with the crests and drop with the valleys of the earthquakes.  The layered walls of feathered steel plates crumpled and distorted but held their basic shape.  The roof strained against the angles, but remained intact.

Survivors noticed and flocked to his home.  Most didn’t make it to his front door as the earth took them with its erratic movements.  Those who managed the journey successfully were all kept at bay.  He had no room for people who couldn’t see the value of being prepared.  He understood the hypocrisy of keeping some out while letting others in when all had doubted, including his so-called friends.  He had heard their murmurs and whispers at his expense.  But, they had arrived first, and he knew he would need help in the long, hard days ahead.

So, he let them in even though they didn’t deserve to be saved, because he was preparing for what came next.  Rebuilding.  Growing.  Surviving.

Help Save their Home

For those who have already given, thank you, you are a hero. For those who haven’t yet, if you can, please do. If you can’t, please reblog, or tweet, or pass along on Facebook, or do whatever you can to get the word spread around. Spread the big bloggy love.
Imagine if the roles were reversed, if you were losing your home, over a disease that was beyond your control…
http://www.youcaring.com/help-a-neighbor/help-save-a-home/142484

Have I mentioned

How awesome the WordPress community is?

Well, you are awesome.  Normally I would have said awesomesauce, and I might have even said awesomesauceh, but commercials have begun using that so I can’t do it anymore.  I’m in the market for a new word, maybe spectacujam…?  I think I should continue thinking on that…

Anyway, back to the point.  Yes, I have a point.  Hey!  It happens sometimes.  I’m not always about silliness.  Just because I’m silly 99.9999999325% of the time doesn’t mean I can’t be serious too.

I think…

I’m not really sure anymore.

And, look, you got me off track again.  Bad kingdomites!  As your punishment, I need you to check out this link: http://www.youcaring.com/help-a-neighbor/help-save-a-home/142484

Can you believe we have already raised over $1,100 dollars to help out Merry and her husband?  That’s outstanding.  I’m floored by the outpouring of support they have received.

There is still a bit to go before they reach the goal that will ensure they can keep their home, though, so if you can, please send a bit of love, or hugs, or money, or flamethrowers to help torch all those pesky feathers, or whatever you can.

I may have gotten off track there, but I think you got the general message, right?

Good.

And, don’t forget to drop by and thank Zoe for setting up the donation site and getting this all rolling.

Hooray for people acting like, well, people.  I knew we still could if we wanted to.  I know we can help Merry save her home.

…..

What’s one thing you’ve done that you are especially proud of?