gold fish
Bronze Member
- #1
Thread Owner
I got to go out Metal Detecting, with my trusty and much-loved Tesoro Cortez. I remember it fondly, even tho' the memory is viewed through, what seems to be, the smoked glass of many passed years. Ahhhh, November, the falling leaves, and dying underbrush. A perfect day in the woods, or a new-found friends yard, peacefully digging my beautiful silver coins with nary a care for the chaos, destruction, and will breaking oppression of the worst that this infernal states weather has ever thrown at me. I cannot begin to describe the depths of loathing for snow that I have uncovered within myself this past season. A man's soul can be a very dark place, very dark indeed.......
At the long end of this time of despair, I again find myself turning to thoughts of new turned earth, with the shine of another time's precious labors awaiting me at the pinnacle of the search. Spring has been an eternity in coming, and no amount of remorse can ever repay the precious moments that mountainous piles of white misery have stolen from my life. With merely the memory, I feel the wafting lump of new-formed tears in my throat, such waste, such loss, such pain........
As this story goes, as it has so often before, I look on the horizon to new winds, south winds. Winds that bear the promise of warm, wet dirt, dirt that yields to my blade as I cut to the heart of my chase. The new hunt begins, a new year, and with it, a first of a new season. Oh to free my spirit, and dig again !!! Oh to hold that rich loam in my hand !!!!! The winter has been hard on my senses, and sanity. So with all the enthusiasm, and sincerity that my mortal mind may muster, I say halleugiah, and D@mn, you winter, d@mn you to the depths of your cold, dead, black heart !!!!!!!!!!!
At the long end of this time of despair, I again find myself turning to thoughts of new turned earth, with the shine of another time's precious labors awaiting me at the pinnacle of the search. Spring has been an eternity in coming, and no amount of remorse can ever repay the precious moments that mountainous piles of white misery have stolen from my life. With merely the memory, I feel the wafting lump of new-formed tears in my throat, such waste, such loss, such pain........
As this story goes, as it has so often before, I look on the horizon to new winds, south winds. Winds that bear the promise of warm, wet dirt, dirt that yields to my blade as I cut to the heart of my chase. The new hunt begins, a new year, and with it, a first of a new season. Oh to free my spirit, and dig again !!! Oh to hold that rich loam in my hand !!!!! The winter has been hard on my senses, and sanity. So with all the enthusiasm, and sincerity that my mortal mind may muster, I say halleugiah, and D@mn, you winter, d@mn you to the depths of your cold, dead, black heart !!!!!!!!!!!
![:-\](https://www.treasurenet.com/smilies/undecided.gif "Undecided :-\")
I hear you!
