Stand My Ground

Today, Thursday the 30th of September, instead of taking the bicycle to Alligator Lake, I decided to walk. Often, when riding the bicycle, you come upon a scene, and before you have time to park the bike and get off, the scene evaporates. Today, walking slowly along the dike, all creatures seemed quite joyful with the day. It is a terrible thing to equate human characteristics to animals, but the way they darted about in the breeze, one could not help but think they were quite elated with the cooler weather. I certainly was.
About midway through the walk, this Palamedes Swallowtail landed beside me and would not move. It was as if he was standing guard or protecting me. I crouched low and took several photographs of him holding onto the blade of grass swaying in the strong breeze. Then,
out of focus in the frame, I noticed a black glob moving into the frame. I thought it odd and moved the finder away from my eyes to take a look. Out from the underbrush, a black snake had crawled out to take a look at us. The Swallowtail continued to hold its ground.
I got this photograph, then lifted up. In that moment of lifting up, the snake darted back into the underbrush. The Swallowtail stayed a moment and then flew on.
A passing encounter between a Swallowtail, a Black Snake and a Sojourner. Was the Swallowtail warning me? Was it just a chance happening? In the kingdom of the wild, it would be written off as a chance encounter. In the Kingdom of the Imagination, the valiant Swallowtail was willing to stand his ground and give his life for me, if that is what it took to protect me.

Secret Shores

Secret Shores
by John Stokes

Flowing Southward on silvery leaves,
The faerie armada enters the stream.
As luna blinks above the tupelo trees,
Lightening bugs awake from daylight dreams.

Swirling slowly on currents dark,
Sweeping strokes with oak stem oars.
Water nymphs ride on boats of bark,
As high on mists the dragonfly's soar.

O'er beds of gold hid since DeSoto came,
The invisible ones seek a higher calling.
On maps of sand marks the meeting land,
Source of seasons end, of season coming.

To secret shores the minute journey,
Icy breeze whispering to the Southern wind,
Bring nectar and honey forth from the bee,
Tell the Monarch his regal queen to send.

Around the sparkle of the frozen stone,
Long into the chilly night they come.
A bobbin' along to the secret throne,
Cicadas and crickets strum and hum.

As the leaves and bark cluster and dock,
The gathered speak forth the decree,
That tonight, winters grasp will stop.
Tomorrow, Spring shall ride her winged steed.

A hush and prostrate lies the throng.
The Eastern skies afire come alive.
A crescendo lifts in glorious song,
The Monarch and his queen have arrived.

Flitting forward the Royals take court,
The great steed of spring paws the earth.
With a shout the Monarch says, Go Forth!
And Spring rides, ending Winter's mirth.

So should you see Monarch and his queen beside,
On secret shores of faerie land lore so true,
You have been given eyes to witness Springs great ride,
Through Winters warming skies of royal blue!

Michtam of John

Adapted from Psalm 16
Taking the first three words from each line.

Preserve me, O God from the lifting of the waves.
O my soul, guide me Jehovah, all my days.

But to the lovers of darkness, who would my soul ensnare.
Their sorrows shall increase as they fall in their own lair.

The Lord is able to guide me through temptation,
The lines are set and I await your day of salvation.

I will bless thee Yahweh today and always!
I have set my feet to forever walk in your praise.

Therefore my heart in stillness awaits the quieting of waves.

For thou wilt raise this soul so broken and lame.
Thou will shew sinners the power of your Holy name!

Edge of Gloam

Edge of Gloam

by John Stokes

They tell of a water, unbroken by time
Still, dark swirling through the night
Beyond the last bridge above Roline
Near Tupelo blooms hidden from sight.

Brightly glows the dawning of the gloam.

When moon gleams full above the cypress,
The red eyes of Leviathan rise and pierce.
In limestone caves the ferns swaying caress,
As downward the spin of saurian fierce.

Brightly glows the dawning of the gloam.

From tannic waters rise sandbars steep,
The roil of deep rippling far below.
In the distant den coyote pups sleep,
Awaiting Luna's command to rise and go.

Brightly glows the dawning of the gloam.

On blood tinged bank the arrow rests,
Vultures soar above a still stench.
Gut shots slow death of final rest,
Fawn's thirst for Suwannee never quenched.

Brightly glows the dawning of the gloam.

On to shoals below flows the dark parade,
Secrets untold, mysteries hid from ages.
Mists eternal rise deep within the glade,
Calm the surface, under tow of rage.

Brightly glows the dawning of the gloam.
Barred owls call, echoing, This is home.

To the unbroken waters, we yearn to roam.
Brightly glows the dawning of the gloam.

Suwannee Firelight

Since Landon and Jordon were little boys, Melanie and I have taken them to this large sandbar on the upper Suwannee River. To get to this sandbar, you travel on US441 15 miles North from I-10. Cone bridge landing sign is on the left. This dirt road is about a mile to the river. From Cone Bridge, the sandbar is a mile of paddling upstream.
Knowing that the moon was going to be full, Jordon and I wanted to take the opportunity we have never done at the sandbar and camp out. Yesterday we loaded the vehicle with the tent, sleeping bags,beach chairs and a cooler with cokes and hotdogs. We were at the sandbar by 5pm, set up camp then went for a wade in the now shallow Suwannee. It has been awhile since the river has been as low as it was. It was quite a sight to see the many gnarled and twisting tupelo and cypress roots, which normally would be underwater.
We were even able to see the two bridge pylon's of Cone Bridge, which also are normally underwater. The limestone caverns with overhanging vegetation was spectacular to behold as well. We saw two small alligators, one ibis and one turtle. Creatures were not in abundance. We came upon a doe deer that had died from an arrow wound, the arrow laying next to the carcass where the vultures discarded it. And one preying mantis that crawled up to my head.
The evening was filled with fun as we hiked through the dry stream bed to the backside of the sandbar to photograph the rising full moon.
It was there we met the small alligator by seeing his red eyes in the dark water. We hiked back,gathering firewood along the way. Supper were hot dogs without any fixings and cokes. We then played around with werewolf poses before taking a moonlit canoe trip upstream.
After midnight, we decided to move the tent from under the trees out onto the open sandbar where we could look up at the moon. After a few hours of restlessness, adjusting to the lumps, we dozed off. The night sleep was constantly interrupted by a distant coyote, a nearby barred owl and other unidentified sounds. My dreams were prophetic, but as usual, forgotten by six o'clock rising.
We packed early, paddled upstream a ways, catching mornings first light, before heading back to the ramp. We again loaded the truck, tied the canoe as snug as possible, then
made our way back home. Our only loss, the cooler top and lots of blood from mosquito's and ants.
There were way too many photographs taken, as I was overcome by the thrill of being here and not having to be rushed to return home by nightfall.
I will post the efforts at Smug Mug, eventually. For now, I am simply savoring a good time spent with Jordon and the creatures of the nocturne.

Dreams of Katie

Years ago when living in Williston, each Sunday afternoon I would take my guitar and help Mrs Rutland and her daughters teach Sunday School to the 'retarded' folks at Garden Park. This was the only group of people I ever played a guitar in front of, strumming simple songs in about the only three cords I knew. No matter. They thought me a Segovia. One particular person who took a particular liking to me was a lady named Katie. Katie was extremely affectionate and had no qualms about letting you know her affections.
For the Christmas party we held for them, Katie presented me with a book of neatly handwritten simple poems she had composed.
As she shyly handed me the poems, like a little girl she blushed and said "I love you Mr.Stokes!" "Now pluck that guitar for me!"
That was the last time I ever saw Katie. I often wonder what became of her, if she is still living, if she continues to write poetry. It is my continual search for this little book of poems, I trust has not been lost.
When I think of the long winter, and the coming hope for the spring thawing, the warmth of the memory of Katie helps break another ice crystal from the heart, as it flows on this tear stained cheek.

Will it always be winter?

The Long Winter

Day fifteen of the journey came with abysmal failures in purpose and direction. Failure to the point of sitting upon the road side and weeping, as if overtaken by a highwayman thief, beaten, robbed and left for dead. Day Sixteen dawned into a fog, covering the land with the mists, simplifying the complex landscape into only the essentials. Robbed of all my treasure, that is where I begin again. No good man is seen upon this highway. All pass upon the other side. Alone I stumble onward, this prize they say awaits at the end, this crown of life. Can this dead man walk again and claim this elusive, mysterious reward so many have trod before in search of?

A book arrived today, Olney Hymns by John Newton and William Cowper. It is written in the old English, with f's for sés. I leave you with a poem by Cowper.

Winter

See, how rude winter's icy hand
Has ftripp'd the trees, and feal'd the ground!
But fpring fhall foon his rage withftand,
And fpread new beauties all around.

My foul a fharper winter mourns,
Barren and fruitlefs I remain;
When will the gentle fpring return,
And bid my graces grow again?

Jefus, my glorious Sun, arife!
'Tis thine the frozen heart to move;
Oh! hufh thefe ftorns, and clear my fkies;
And let me feel they vital love!

Dear Lord, regard my feeble cry,
I faint and droop till thou appear;
Wilt thou permit thy plant to die?
Muft it be winter all the year?

Be ftill, my foul, and wait his hour,
With humble pray'r, and patient faith;
Till he reveals his gracious pow'r,
Repofe on what his promife faith.

He, by whofe all-commanding word
Seafons their changing courfe maintain,
In ev'ry change a pledge affords,
That none fhall feek his face in vain.

The Kniforspoonpod

Necessity is the mother of invention. My poor little tabletop tripod lost a leg recently. Do not know what happened to it. I took all the legs off the tripod several months ago to rig up a bicycle pod. That was a failed experiment and the pod pieces were relegated to the junk bin.
In the process of getting together a camping kit for the kayak, I had this genius thought. Why not make the tabletop tripod double up as a way to keep my knife,fork and spoon from getting lost by making them into a tripod?
So I drilled a hole through the utensils, twisted the ends in a vise and attached them to the head of the pod. Now I can go about taking photographs and at a moment notice, when hunger strikes, all I have to do is stop and start eating. I am sure that soon REI and LLBean will be calling, so let me go so I can continue perfecting my kniforspoonpod.

Caleb and Shellie

Pearce and Lois Mills

Sixty to One

Two events took place at Grace Church this week-end. The 60th wedding anniversary of Pearce and Lois Mills and the wedding of Caleb Jones and Shellie Kepner. The ends of the spectrum of life. The photographs shown at the Mills anniversary mostly black and white with film camera. The photographs of Caleb and Shellie, digital.

A bonus was having Melanie present at the wedding, despite being in Binsfeld, Germany. Landon set the laptop up, called her Skype number and voila, there she was, able to interact with us. It was great for her and us, as she was able to see and hear the wedding live, and talk to many of her friends in attendance today.

Mr Mills, about to undergo chemotherapy and ozone treatment for colon cancer, had to leave today before the wedding got underway, feeling bad. We need to lift him and his wife Lois up in prayer.

Seraphim Skies

Hymn 112

Angels Ministering to Christ and Saints
Isaac Watts

Great God! to what a glorious height
Hast thou advanced the Lord thy Son!
Angels, in all their robes of light,
Are made the servants of his throne.

Before his feet thine armies wait,
And swift as flames of fire they move,
-To manage his affairs of state,
In works of vengeance-and of love.

[His orders run through all the hosts;
Legions descend at his command,
To shield and guard our native coasts,
When foreign rage invades our land.]

Now they are sent to guide our feet
Up to the gates of thine abode;
Through all the dangers that we meet,
In traveling the heavenly road.

Lord, when I leave this mortal ground,
And thou shalt bid me rise and come-
Send a beloved angel down,
Safe to conduct my spirit home.

Coming out from work, heading for home, I looked up as always. There above was my guardian angel, awaiting me.
I exclaimed to those about me, Ahhh, Angel Skies as I took the ever present Canon A540 out of the front pocket of the shirt and took this photograph.

We the rational, the pragmatic shun the realm of the spirit, the mystical. It is to our sorrow that we walk in a darker light, when all about the brilliant aurora of the uncreated light sparkles His glory. Grant us eyes of faith to see beyond the obvious, beyond the here and now, to the possible eternity.

The Lonesome Lane

Melanie had a good flight to Washington, DC. She sat next to a gentleman from India, living in Texas. They had a good conversation. In DC, she had a stop over for a few hours. There she had a smoothie and a bagel. From there, she boarded a very crowded plane for Frankfurt,Germany. Having a center aisle seat, she was unable to prop her head on anything, did have no familiar shoulder, and thus got little sleep. The ipod she thought was loaded with many songs, only had four.
At 3AM she made it to Germany where Heather met her in the auto. She got to see firsthand the high speeds of the autobahn. She said it seemed only Mercedes and Volvos traveled the roads over here.
She slept most of the next day and has mostly lounged around the house. The house is upscale from the average house in Germany. The lady they rent it from lives in the states as well. It has a goldfish pond with bridge, the woodwork throughout like a swiss chalet.
Already, Melanie is putting in to move. She is in love with the pastoral scenery of rolling hills, crops in the fields, cattle and sheep. There are no large cities. Only villages. In the village she is near, you can hear the church bell tolling. She says it is like going back into the sixties.
We are able to communicate daily via the computer, with Skype. Skype is a free software phone for the computer. You can talk and
see the person if you have a webcam. I can even talk to her via my little ipod touch, which I downloaded Skype into and use a cell phone set of headphones with the built in microphone.
That is the latest and most up to date. She was keeping Ryland and Ella last evening for Heather, who was out. The kids go to bed at 8PM.
This Saturday she is going with them to Rylands soccer match. Just doing simple things, enjoying the laid back way of life.
Wonder if Germany has a need for a nurse and a photographer?

Travelling Home

Hymn 337


The Pilgrim's Hymn
Isaac Watts

Children of the heavenly king!
As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour's worthy praise,
Glorious in his works and ways;

Ye are travelling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now,---and ye
Soon their happiness shall see.

Shout, ye ransomed flock, and blest!
Ye on Jesus' throne shall rest;
There your seat is now prepared;
There your kingdom and reward.

Fear not, brethren! joyful stand
On the borders of your land;
Jesus Christ, God's only Son,
Bids you undismayed go on.

Lord, submissive make us go,
Gladly leaving all below:
Only thou our Leader be,
And we still will follow thee.

From Nightfall

Sanctum Come

Hearts of Fire

Waiting on Wings

Psalm 55:6

And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! [for then]

would I fly away, and be at rest.



Today we spoke with Melanie via the Skype on the computer. Two O'Clock our time, 8 in the evening, German time. Yesterday she took to the heavens via United Airlines and flew from Jacksonville to Washington, DC, then to Frankfurt, arriving at 3AM. For the next six weeks we will be able to communicate daily via the Skype, making the separation not as bad.
Last year when Melanie was in the coma, unable to communicate, all we could do was sit by, pray and watch. Though she will be gone this year for the same duration she was in the coma last year, we are most grateful for the advances in communication that allows us to stay in touch.
In an effort to break from the day, Jordon and I took the kayaks for a short trip on Alligator Lake. Jordon had a sore throat and thus we cut the time to just after sunset. We had planned on staying into the night. Perhaps we shall try again when the moon is full and hopefully, the weather cooler.

The six week journey to Binsfeld, Germany for Melanie has begun. We left Lake City around 12:30 with her 48 pound suitcase and a ten pound carry-on bag. Thinking we had plenty of time for the 4:51PM flight, we set out at my usual slow pace. Looking closer at her flight schedules around Olustee, Melanie let out a Oh My. The Oh my meant she had read the schedule wrong, and her plane was to depart at 2:51PM for Washington, DC.
At that point, the little PT cruiser with Jordon,Melanie and I was upped to around 80MPH, a realm of speed unheard of since pregnancy days. After a few near wrong exits off I-295, we made it to the concourse, then to the parking garage. The United Airlines check-in was inside the terminal. We got her checked in, and walked her back to the point of no entry. My taking a few snaps drew the attention of a plainclothes security officer, and I thus assured him my interest was not in the security officers. He believed my story of Melanie going to visit Heather in Germany, and thanked Heathers husband John for serving in the Air Force in Afghanistan.
Jordon got us a Burger King in the airport restaurant, and we made a slower trip back to Lake City. Tonight we plan to go out to Alligator Lake and kayak around in the evening. Perhaps we shall catch that elusive turkey going for the roost, or the ten foot long alligator that swam ahead of the kayak last week. We shall return in the darkness to a lonely home, void of warmth and happiness, as we miss Melanie and pray for her safe journey to Germany.

Behold how good

Psalm 133

Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!

It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard;
that went down to the skirts of his garments;

As the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion; for the LORD
commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.

Sing Out

I Chronicles16:33

Then shall the trees of the wood sing out at the presence of the LORD, because he cometh to judge the earth.

His glory covered the heavens

Habakkuk 3:3


God came from Teman, and the Holy One from mount Paran.
Selah.
His glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of his praise.

Ye So Foolish

Galatians 3:3



Are ye so foolish? Having began in the spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?






Hymn 161. C.M. Reading,[b]
Christian virtures; or, Difficulty of going to Heaven.
Isaac Watts

Strait is the way, the door is strait,
That leads to joys on high;
'Tis but a few that find the gate,
While crowds mistake and die.

Beloved self must be denied,
The mind and will renewed;
Passion suppressed and patience tried,
And vain desires subdued.

(Flesh is a dangerous foe to grace,
Where it prevails and rules;
Flesh must be humbled, pride abased,
Lest they destroy our souls.)

The love of gold be banished hence,
The vile idolatry;
And every member, every sense,
In sweet subjection lie.

The tongue, that most unruly power,
Requires a strong restraint;
We must be watchful every hour,
And pray, but never faint.

Lord! can a feeble, helpless worm,
Fulfull a task so hard?
Thy grace must all my work perform,
And give the free reward.

Last evening was spent in the kayak upon Alligator Lake, sitting for the longest time in this dark lagoon, watching for this beautiful blue necked turkey to return. I used the turkey call several times, but no response. The turkey first appeared when I was busily photographing cypress knees next to the shore. Perhaps the flash attracted her attention. Sensing something in the hammock, I looked up, and there she was, then just as quickly, she was gone.

I had this dream last night, that we were at the final judgement. It was like a gator game, with thousands streaming down the walkways, into these huge convention halls. The line I was in kept breaking down into smaller, then smaller lines, until I was directed into this little tent off to the side and given a ticket. I came back outside, thinking, what now? Thinking perhaps I had entered the wrong line, I again got back into the long line and entered this grand arena, where thousands were happily cheering and waving, as on the jumbotron, they were listening to a speech by Glenn Beck and others. A man from the audience came up to me and we compared tickets.
I looked on his ticket, then mine, and said to him, perhaps you have been deceived. Where on your ticket is it written, Salvation by grace alone? I hurriedly left the large arena, returned to the small tent out of the way from the lights and the crowds, got it punched and entered in.

Be My Shield

Psalm 3:3

But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.

LM Worship. Armley[b] ver. 1,2,3,4,5,8
A morning Psalm
Isaac Watts

O Lord, how many are my foes,
In this weak state of flesh and blood!
But my defence and hope is God.

Tired with burdens of the day,
To thee I raised an evening cry:
Thou heard'st when I began to pray,
And thine almighty help was nigh.

Supported by thy heavenly aid,
I laid me down, and slept secure;
Not death should make my heart afraid,
Though I should wake and rise no more.

But God sustained me all the night:
Salvation doth to God belong:
He raised my head to see the light,
And make his praise my morning song.

Riding along the familiar pathway at a slow pace, a brisk breeze pulling me along. Weak in the flesh from the previous days efforts,
today was a relief not to push the pace. Coming to the tracks leading into the pine wood barrens towards Olustee, I stopped to raise an evening cry. Down the tracks toward town, the sunset glistened off the steel and my thoughts returned to those in need, in desperate places. This journey is not just for the inner man, but for those residing alongside tracks, broken, weary and worn, laying down their head at night, sleep eluding them. May they have their heads raised to see, to make his praise their morning song.

Saw Ye Him?

Song of Solomon 3:3

The watchmen that go about the city found
me: to whom I said, Saw ye him whom my
soul loveth?


Banquet of Love Hymn 68
Isaac Watts

Behold the Rose of Sharon here;
The Lily which the valley's bear;
Behold the Tree of Life, that gives
Refreshing fruit, and healing leaves.

Amongst the thorns so lilies shine;
Amongst wild gourds, the noble vine;
So in my eyes my Saviour proves,
Amidst a thousand meaner loves.

Beneath his cooling shade I sit,
To shield me from the burning heat;
Of heavenly fruit he spreads a feast,
To feed my eyes, and please my taste.

Kindly he brought me to the place,
Where stands the banquet of his grace;
He saw me faint; and o'er my head
The banner of his love he spread.

With living bread and generous wine,
He cheers this sinking heart of mine;
And opening his own heart to me,
He shows his thoughts, how kind they be.

O never let my Lord depart!
Lie down, and rest upon my heart;
I charge my sin not once to move,
Nor stir, nor wake, nor grieve my Love.

By the rail tracks of Still Road this evening we met and conversed. The shining rails disappearing into the distance, bringing to mind the journey towards Taboric light. The days turmoil a distant thunder, the calming presence of evening light sending rays of comfort.
Tomorrow holds anticipation of direction, of a journey under the banner of love, to an coming victory.