Wild Gray Goose

Celtic tradition identifies the Holy Spirit as a Wild Goose. He is the wings of a Wild God best followed by the wildest of men. I'm gray. I'm wild. Like He, I am not always predictable, rational, or safe. I believe my full life and my still maturing years of Walking With God offer both heart and substance for younger lads to consider. Now with 4th stage prostate cancer, following the Wild Goose has a different pace and perspective worth reflecting on...and sharing.

My Photo
Location: Full Time RV, mostly near Temecula, California, United States

I'm a young fella not far from 73 who's made it to the far and frayed edges of the adventures I‘ve been hankering for since boyhood. The age thing and my pursuits are relevant since I now have advanced 4th stage cancer, moved from unsuccessful chemo treatment to oral med...and they seem to be working. Now, after selling the ranch, my beautiful life-mate of 48 years and I live and travel in an fifth wheel RV we call our "covered wagon". The new and rich development of 2012 is our purchase of ranch in the marvelous plateau above GRAND JUNCTION at the head of the Colorado National Monument where my young family with six children run a whole-family therapy ranch, DEEP RIVERS FAMILY RANCH.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

I am wondering

I've been wondering what thoughts are stirring down there, Gary, that will reward me for the effort to do the BLOG dialog. I'm a bit out of currency for spending much personal and spiritual time on the Web--or even in email dialogs with friends--because of a busy life. Will your thoughts slow me down and build me up, will they be easily forgotten like the taste of a mint after a big meal (good, but never the topic of discussion), will they yank my tether strong enough I will see God's hand at the other end? Or will this be fun stuff, good stuff, but nothing that will upgrade my Walk with God or that will channel my energies or sharpen my intentions in serving God, family, and mankind?

Any Mouse

Friday, January 07, 2005

journal of a high plains drifter

 Posted by Hello

heart words
spilling into the journal
sloshing from mind to page
reality of rain soaked freedom
bought at staggering price

smelling of Toffee
of cowboy coffee
mountain rain
etched and stained

heart words
near trail's end
reflection of grandeur
whose journal marks
the trail through time

Vern Hyndman for GT

that's me and my saddlemate

Posted by Hello

That's me and my saddlemate looking into the chilled wind and the misty gray
Not sure what awaits our gait.
But the empty saddle, like the empty chair at sup,
Awaits the Presence of the Wrangler who knows the way
And won't leave our day to fate.

A Cowboy's Prayer
I thank you, Lord, that I am placed so well,
That you made my freedom so complete;
That I'm no slave to whistle, clock, or bell,
Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.
Just let me live my life as I've begun
And give me work that is open to the sky;
Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
And I won't ask a life that's soft or high.

Badger Clark

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

hey... is that you out there?

Gary Posted by Hello

I'm looking out from my blog, and I can indistinctly see a few of you... let me put the Cowboy Coffee on and we'll get on down the trail.