When I was young and unafraid

Beside the house at my grandparents farm

He stood very tall and wore his leafy branches like a crown

From a lower limb, my Grampa had hung a swing

The old oak had watched three generations grow up

Swinging from that limb and dreaming of what they would be

I was one of the third swinging into the sky

He was a mighty patriarch of his kind

For he was taller then the ones in the forest behind the hen house

He was the oak in 'Golden Moments'

I loved that old tree, for he was a part of my growing up

It broke my heart when they cut him down

I only loved one tree, the graceful willow in the front yard, as much

They both were destroyed on the same day

There is now a Staples where once they both stood, with the house between

But both still live in my heart and memory

There, they can never be cut down

I have added some photos of the farm. The oak is in some of them.

Sharon Pribble

Has anyone gotten tired of me saying how beautiful it is here ? I sure hope not.

These  following shots are from my trip to Williams camp site on October 23rd, 2009. A lot of the area around the road is sage brush but there is farm land and forest as well as a creek. The road itself is dirt or that day mud, most of the way. It comes out in the Sela, Yakima, Washington State area on the Wenas Road then onto on Sheep Camp Road.

This is my favorite shot from the trip showing the road and surrounding hills. All photos taken with my Kodak Easy Share DX7590, all but the last shot.

Lots of rocks and sage brush.

Autumns colors showing through.

In places the view seems to go on forever.

Here and there there are homes all with  private roads. For those who like to live way away from it all. I do believe this person can't see any of  their neighbors.

A ranch seen off the road is beautiful in it's autumn glory.

More of autumns beauty.

Headed home looking off from the road, into the Kittitas Valley below. We are surrounded by these foothills with mountains beyond. The mountains can only be see on a clear day, which this was not.

Ellesnburg below.

Just as the pavement starts.

This last shot was taken in the morning with my Olympus C2500L. I love the morning mist or clouds as they hug the hillsides.

All photos taken by me.

Frozen

in it's space

upside-down silliness

the drop that has fallen toward the sky

has me sitting in the brisk of the morning

and wondering, and wondering and laughing.

I know something we can do for Halloween night, my friend Dennis came over to our house all excited. His family rented the first house in the duplex by the side of the driveway.  We were both about eight at the time.

I had never seen him so excited.

"What do you want to do?" My cousin Eddie was all agog. He loved doing anything exciting.

"You know that old deserted house over by the lake, its got a graveyard. All covered up with weeds and stuff." Dennis grinned. "We can sneak out and spend the night there."

Of course, the boys were all eager to do it, which meant we girls had to of course. No way we were going to be sissies.

So about nine o clock that night, Joyce and I snuck out to join Dennis, Eddie, Don, Karin, Tricia and Bobby.

The deserted house was about five blocks down the road. I don't think it really had a name. It went down the hill past our farm, and through a gravel pit.

the house was back from the road, and behind some trees. Only a path led to it. We kids had made the path when we went snooping around the pile of rubble and one partial wall that were left of the house.

I had never found any graveyard. But trust Dennis to find one if it existed. He was a born explorer. Should have been born in the wagon train days.

The graveyard was behind the house and down a slight patch of lumpy ground. It wasn't big enough to name a hill.

The graves were covered by long grass, some blackberry briers, and lots of weeds. Even a patch of nettles. I managed to avoid it, but Eddie had to touch it just because I said it would give him bumps. It did. He scratched and griped the rest of the time we were there.

Joyce got scared every time she herd a noise. She was the youngest at four. We had to keep telling her what animal made the noise, and then of course, Dennis and Eddie kept saying it was ghosts or boggles.

About two or three in the morning (none of us owned watches back then, but the moon was past the top of the sky), we all jumped at a -  "Whoooo." -  sound.

Bobby said it was an owl. Dennis thought it might be the train up by Black Lake Boulevard. No one really knew.

Then something begin creaking over to the south of us. At least Bobby said it was the south.

A few minutes later, something shook a tree over to my left. I just about jumped a mile in the air.

Then there was rustling in the grass. Bobby insisted it was just a mouse. Joyce didn't believe him and began crying.

"Oh no, its Mr. Strong!" Dennis cried out.

Sure enough, my grandparents had heard Dennis's big scheme and they, Uncle Melvin, Tricia and Bobby's dad, grandma and my mother had decided to give us a Holloween to remember.

As you can see, I still do.

Sharon Pribble