[at-l] Helping a newbie UPDATE

[shane@theplacewithnoname.com (Shane Steinkamp)]

Well, I finally got the Black Creek journal up.  It can be found starting
here:

<http://www.theplacewithnoname.com/hiking/journals/shane/020524.htm>

Here is a brief excerpt:

Some people might think it strange to wander naked in the dark, but I have
always had a long love affair with the night.  As I wander along a stanza
from Far Places by Martha Hunter came to me, "On a night such as this, I
keep a tryst with old desires that unappeased persist..."

I meander along the creek, listening to the music of the water and watching
the moonbeams dance.  Eventually I can no longer resist the temptation and I
work my way down the bank and into the water.  I sink my pole into the sandy
bottom, loop my light around the pole and let it drop into the water.  I
step into the middle of the creek and join the moonbeams on their rippling
dance floor.  The cool, sandy bottom squishes up between my toes, and I
wiggle them with joy.  How long has it been since I last played like this?
Too long, but I remember the way, and as a cool breeze caresses me gently, a
satisfaction fills my spirit.  I stand there for a few moments, alone in the
dark, but I am not surprised to suddenly hear a familiar voice call me by my
real name and speak to me softly.

"You still cannot escape my charms, my love...", the River Spirit sings to
me.  "Where have you been, all these days, while I have longed for you?"

"Down to speak with your Father, the Sea, and dancing with your Mother, the
Rain.  I have been wandering in the World of Men, waiting for the time when
I would return to you."

"My Father, then, did not lie, and my Mother has told me the truth.  No
matter; come to me now and be with me as in days long past."

Seized by, and unable to resist my lustful desire, I lay down beneath the
coverlet of the water, snuggled in the sandy bed.  The River Spirit takes
hold of me and we made a kind of love that has been almost lost to mortal
man...

For about an hour I visit with the River Spirit, and our pillow talk in that
place is private.  Eventually I thought about Bob again, sitting alone with
the night, so I bid farewell to the River Spirit with a promise to keep our
trysts through all the years...

Shane