Just A Glimpse Of The Take, The Toll, The Days In A Lifetime On These There Miles

Salt tears that have taken my breath in gasp on the long mile of unspoken,

that traveling Narrows of Plains in galloping the Minds lens,

echoes of the Harps on the say chord of deep throttle,

a best to foot forward on the sleeve in all the shallow says.

True form is that the belly time of gut talk on the groan,

still in silent calm that hugging strum of the guitar,

in those days of growing sewn so blessed I had been to have Sing,

low the call with a few giddy up's a couple of chords and the Gibson struck.

That deep yodler on the sublime,

his voice roles my shore to know of signs,

the ground on the base of just love in my bones,

raising a vernacular to jazz through all the dead zoned.

Swinging his lullaby to this sand of print shop stone,

pen and pencil to etch his Hymn sole as the support of a special bring,

the grand stance of rhythm to an eternal phone.

From ear to piece the puzzle of such a riddle,

stringing with a say to comfort the hugs I miss,

such is the forest on the groves,

trunks Shoulders with a tad bit of sweets.

The golden state California on a journey so fad,

back in the 60's a walking grace filling those keens,

rumbling The Blues like a chase of the butterfly sigh,

flying a fabulous truth in these ladder plays.

Short comings Falls water on the river of life,

sent a CD to mark the flavor of the compass spice,

directions that give my Vista that value of fumble,

there on the stand my radio grands a good friend sing touching the dice.

Given duck the feather and the tone,

I bellow his basis as more than back to sitting a floor,

never throwing more than the best on sensitive drawl,

oh for memory on treasures I hold.

Daisy banks to deeper wealth these are the founds on climbing paves,

soaring a candor that gift of balance on a society cold to company,

I have watched in the trouble years and this Man made the path I just ran,

one of steady to handle the shacks,

people with skulls that scrap lives to venture the big dollar hides,

than at the moments parade those same persons dump like a vegetables style,

lush in picture but that first revelation of open mouth crushes like a hammers head batched.

Put them all together and the line to get a dirty clay is longer than history had vein,

planks that burn the hand holding pleasure to fill the pause with stink of shred,

even on that divide of contact to unknowns it is the reality that Society crowds nostril blares to loving care,

trading on the screen to advertise for a pylon on the taffy,

the spill and the catch has become like a pickle dill on a ferrets stole.

Chance brought this concert to my heart today,

brave authority to listen to a wonder on my life of chest,

the pulse of heavy times multiplied by losing a familiar I just beam the pigeon side camp for a fires same,

warming my internal locks so long on the tolls,

this is a bridge level coming down a Hi Ways jump,

I was four years old the first time he spoke a sing on the dimes,
he never did carve or shred my mind he just held a tune to sing the boon,
an old cowboy that loved his coffee too.

loving dg and a handful of tunes

Reining Frogs

Scuba Divers & Forest Fires, Movies Park & Magnolia Sharks

1998 Urban Legend

So you think you're having a bad day? In California, wildfires are part of the natural cycle of the forest. They are caused by lightning, by arson, by acts of God. Brave firefighters earn their livings extingiushing these ravenous blazes.

Recently, Fire Marshals found a corpse in a rural section of California while they were assessing the damage done by a recent forest fire. The deceased male was dressed in diving gear consisting of a recently-melted wetsuit, a dive tank, flippers, and facemask. Apparently the man had been participating in recreational diving fairly recently.

A post-mortem examination attributed death not to burns, but to massive internal injuries. Salt water was found in his stomach. Dental records provided a positive identification of a man who had been reported missing a week before, and the next-of-kin were notified. Investigators then set about determining how a fully clad diver ended up in the middle of a forest fire.

It was discovered that, on the day of the fire, the deceased had set out on diving trip in the Pacific Ocean. His third dive was 20 kilometers away from the location of a large brush fire which which was threatening the saftey of a nearby town.

Firefighters, seeking to control the conflagration as quickly as possible, had called in a fleet of helicopters to saturate the area with water. The helicopters towed large buckets, which were dropped into the ocean for rapid filling, then flown to the fire and emptied.

You guessed it! One minute our diver was marveling at the fish species of the Pacific, and in the next breath, he found himself in a fire bucket 300 meters in the air. He experienced rapid decompression caused by the altitude change, suddenly followed by a plummet into burning trees.

As a consolation to bereaved relatives, investigators calculate that the man extinguished roughly 1.78 square meters of the fire, approximately the area covered by a splattered human body. Bereaved are also consoled by the knowledge that he had enjoyed two rewarding dives preceeding his fatal third dive.

Divers and pilots alike are being warned to remain on the alert. Divers are encouraged to remain calm if scooped from the water, and to hang onto the bucket when the water is dumped on the fire. Decompression chambers will be available immediately upon landing.

Classified Urban Legend 17 October 1997

The sister of the deceased in Scuba Divers and Forest Fires shows us his last email message to her in Bad Day at the Office.

Hi Sue,

Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job. As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit.

This time of year the water is quite cool. So here's what we do to keep warm: We have a diesel-powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temp. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a damn good plan, doesn't it? I've used it several times with no complaints.

When I get to the bottom and start working, what I do is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my neck and flood my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until my ass started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my itchy ass started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done.

In agony I realized what had happened. The hot-water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. This is even worse than poison ivy under a cast. I had put that hose down my back, but I don't have any hair on my back, so the jellyfish couldn't get stuck to my back. My ass crack was not as fortunate.

When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into my ass. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communications system. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he and 5 other divers were laughing hysterically.

Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make 3 hellish in-water decompression stops totaling 35 minutes before I could reach the surface for my chamber dry decompression. I got to the surface wearing nothing but my brass helmet. My suit and gear were tied to the bell. When I got on board, the medic, with tears of laughter streaming down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to coat my ass when I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't shit for two days because my asshole was swollen shut.

We've since modified the equipment to filter out most sea creatures.

Anyway, the next time you have a bad day at the office, think of me. Think about how much worse your day would be if you were to squash a jellyfish on your ass. I hope you have no bad days at the office. But if you do, I hope this will make it more tolerable.

Original source: forwarded email in August 1999

courtesy of : http://www.darwinawards.com/legends/legends1998-03.html

The Caliber Of Grand Pea An Knows

What a beautiful Sun blossoming on the horizon of gold in just this Mornings long rose,

the light sheds a toss of sighing colors breath,
the hill on tips of leaves at banks spy whispering each shadows lie,

still scenes of grace,

those boughs of a trace that kind nuzzle of Warmth from the big Hello of the hugs on goes.

Each gasp of treasure on this Planet of Waist,

hands that dash to grip tell Face,

music on the space,

shouts with days,

plates on the earth Arbors of girth!!

For the classical waters of salts shined,

veer dial And base a feat,

speeding with the shores of sight,

by ways of enjoying the gift of bind.

So tightly knit at Moons in sphere,

imagining the Wares of life on steer,

that in the ground of past grand sound,

wonderment of same in reins of grain.

Rice Hulls wheat & rye,

pickled bellies Jars orphans and dies,

graves with lawn telling of tomb,

the gather of collective on spoke tales!!

Sheer in valley the depth of carriage,

rivers that have spelled the slide,

bunches of trunks Sticks and ka plunks,

that sign of operators on changing tides.

Charts that Men sailed the globe,

pieces of lands Mass to Continent springs,

birds Eggs nests with brings,

flights that must have soared to the bearings of such things.

Flat World Round World rounding those Capes,

cloaks Pirates rows of those boats,

news coming channels lagoons at bay folks,

excitement surely filled the fear on dust groats.

Salts Pepper spice on the Clue,

placed in appropriate mention of the shoe,

prized hours Minutes blink of choose,

I am filled with gratitude for the love of the . . . . .

you are more probably bored with my think of Nature,

so I will just say that its all about the hum drum,

whistle stops Cafe and coffee on the plums,

cherry pickers with chew bugs and a bit of sticky pay purr.

In paddles of the blues singer at the ashes on the sail,
another found that jump to be the only pen,
it tally on this mourning I scramble words to place fragile thoughts to memory boots,
so the scene of two such men I knew flew this road stirs dead,
one from self the other on the harp of vase on the stun,
to both I ring my love to the chores and doors that rank my Mind,
I have scene to think on smile and dim,
natural and thump,
I put the license of what is a hour on this gentle remind of talking a deed,
pain is the thimble of the Needle that darns the eyes with thread on the bare in sole.

I walk a traveling sleigh to harness the known,
to foundation and to those tears I say it is the piers,
what is such ducks in a row that geese have pond and moves have most,
of the interesting endings to beginnings of lives that play the guitar of the times,
I thought many a moon mile on this inch of connects,
it plundered me,
but at that falling tear I said to bell oh's,
it must be simple,
the company of a sign meants.

The Breadth Of Rice Wind

Stride the dreams with color enhanced a state of digital graph to pace,

with dynamics sip say to lip an expression of the ancients stroke,

paints on sky time glowing roll with beauty at the seems,

in this each independent foot will Thought a great lakes Moon.

Sewn in with life a streaming Creek,

there on that balance of blinking lens A Camera from the seed,

does with a dainty chorus sing of where the shelf did breathe to brush,

that incredible state of frozen rein,

directing choir of simply done.

Tall are Mountains falling Snow,

touching Opera of the lathe,

shingle brought to a sending delve,

duck Crackers geese Buffalo lease.

Across the Might tea Plains of sway,

dishes for the sticks on brae,

rail roses thorns with Wreath,

Pines Redwoods in Birch beam Stood.

Field on Fire field on Digs field with ditches Fields with lived,

shells of Snails shell Oyster grit Shells that Muscle of simply equipped,

an Ankle of the solar Star those glimmer Schedule of dark lights bar,

treasures Arid dry chalk with Floor,

what is Wisdom but that Why's a waist??

I love the fox As the wolf does Howl coyotes Yip the Snails bough,
ask each bless said sing of print It is so held in genomes Tend,
to have that stretch as breeze in rent,
the body Mind and leaven blend.

A flea hop goes to say Hello,
that computation of laptops lanes,
write or reason itself a deed,
for with the feather a draw of Ye.

BBC Earth ~ The Shapes We See In Starling Murmurations

Flocks of starlings, like clouds, can form some interesting and sometimes seemingly familiar patterns; what shapes do you see in these murmurations?

• By Jeremy Coles

23 October 2015

Mushroom? (credit: Tim Graham / Getty Images)

An easy one to start! This murmuration, taken at Avalon Marshes on the Somerset levels, looks a lot like a mushroom to us.

Snail with a conical shell? (credit: Nature Picture Library / Alamy Stock Photo)

This murmuration was taken in December 2012 in Gretna Green, Scotland. We think it looks a bit like a snail with a conical shell.

Seal? (credit: Arterra Picture Library / Alamy Stock Photo)

This large flock of starlings are being harassed by a bird of prey at sunset. We think it looks like a seal; look closely and you might be able to make out the shape of a flipper.

Jumbo jet taking off? (credit: Bill Coster / Alamy Stock Photo)

A huge flock at a roosting site by a motorway in southern Scotland. Does anyone else see the resemblance to a jumbo jet taking to the skies or an old fashioned airship?

Seahorse or dolphin? (credit: Bill Coster / Alamy Stock Photo)

This is an interesting one with different people seeing different things! Is it a turning dolphin or a seahorse? Or possibly something else entirely!

Snake slithering away (credit: Mike O'Carroll / Alamy Stock Photo)

We’re back to the Somerset Levels for this one. We reckon it looks like a slippery snake slithering away from us.

Pouncing small mammal? (credit: Andy Rouse / naturepl.com)

Is it stretching the imagination too much to see a pouncing mammal with a long tail, such as a stoat or a ferret, in this murmuration? It was taken in Gloucestershire as the starlings were coming to roost one evening.

Dinosaur? (credit: Keith Douglas / Alamy Stock Photo)

Looming large in the evening sky of Cambridgeshire, this ‘dinosaur’ was captured at sunset.

Find out more about the starling murmuration with the RSPB, and where to visit if you’d like to experience this spectacle for yourself.

Do you have any pictures of flocking birds making shapes? If so we’d love you to submit them to the Autumnwatch Flickr strand and don’t forget to tell us what shape you think they make.

Autumnwatch is back on our screens Monday 2 November at 21:00 on BBC Two.