I heard the squelch of a raptor, a hawk as it sailed by on the wind – he allowed us to pass and to explore his domain. An eagle dived into the waters of life and there he found his dinner.  He sailed away to the horizon and there he found another. A beautiful fawn watched us come and go from the protection of the omnificent trees that covered this sacred land and the trees allowed us to pass in silence. I found a turtle slogging it through the ground cover

on his way to the labyrinth of time immortal as well as a snake sent to us from the deepness of the underground

A fox, like a ghost shape dancer, disappeared into the depths of the forest.

His reflective eyes followed us from the safety of the hidden nooks that he called his home.  The sounds of human life left us – thank God- for the sounds of silence in this world are beautiful. Men – we had a great day, we were invisible and God allowed us to have visions of ecstasy and infinity today – wow

Old man winter :  Old man Winter beaconed us to come out and visit with his delivery of a fresh blanket of white snow. So when everyone one was warm and cozy in their homes, we went out for an early morning mountain bike ride in the bitter cold. The sky was leaden gray and heavy and the sun’s golden eye could not pierce the shroud. The air was bitter and cut sharp on the exposed skin and our toes pained as we pushed the bikes forward.

The only sound was that of the tires crushing the snow that covered the hard land of winter.We entered the living organism on a spindly dirt trail that was covered in a shroud of fresh snow. It was so light that it swirled around like ghost dancers moving in and out of reality as we rode by. We carefully rode the single tracks hopping the occasional logs, letting the bikes run down the hills and cranking it up the gnarly trails. It was so special, no one else entered our realm, just we and the forest and it consumed us.All of the creatures were in a deep slumber, everything was locked in the frozen science, nothing moved, not a sound escaped and everything was muted. The ancient sentinels of the forest stood tall without movement at their posts as they had for hundreds of years, they had lost their canopy but their arms shrugged under the weight of their heavy limbs that were covered in the fresh white blanket. They watched us pass under foot without saying a word.We saw a rather large eagle silently glide through the gray firmament overhead. He disappeared into the grayness across the icy waters. The lake was pewter gray, silent, and cold. Ice covered some of it and the shore line. Even the normally playful, vocal and active canadian geese and the colorful drake mallards, were all hunkered down. They were silent, humble and huddled together as if frozen in time.We passed some deer on the way to heartbreak hill and they were exceedingly silent as they slipped away into the depths of the forest. They wore their full winter coats now for the difficult winter siege that old man winter would through at them. As we passed into a meadow, we saw a small herd of deer bedded down in the copper colored tall grasses under methuselah tree. The tree is unique and stands out as a multi-headed beast of the forest, we paid it our respects before heading onward.After riding for about 1.5 hours, the Sun poked its tired eye through the leaden sky and with that everything came to life. The shadows came to life and danced through and on the forest floor. The light streamed through the flakes of white powdered snow creating a kaleidoscopic array of colors. The prism was blinding, it flowed directly into my brain and life was restored. The animals were awakened and the birds sang melodious harmonies. After the last stream crossing that was frozen, a rather large red fox guided us homeward on the spindly trail only to disappear into the depths of the forest.So back in my home after a couple hours of riding, I sat in front of a fire whose amber rays bathed my body in its warmth while it caressed my face with the softness of a lovers hand. The golden and orange rays streamed outward from the fireplace and illuminated the room in soft hues of light, it was narcotic like, and it lulled one into a dream like sleep. My cat was snuggled in my lap and I was reading a soft bound leather book and listening to the soft sounds of Enya and when the steel guitar and bass came together it was as though the angles and light of God surrounded me. So at that special moment with this mot beautiful music playing, The book , the snow outside, the warmth of the glowing fire and the snuggling cat, I felt all life was tied together in some beautiful way, like a thread that tied everything together that had a pulse and a meaning and I felt so lucky that I gave thanks for all that I had.

NIGHT RIDERS:We are the night riders and we own the night:

We leave when the golden orb has closed its tired eye leaving a blood stained crimson horizon beneath the cold leaden sky that hangs heavy overhead. As we enter the woods it is eerily quiet and dark. There is no light only darkness and everything fades into the darkness. The light from our helmets only illuminates the spindly trail as it weaves through the forest floor, directly in front of us, no light passes that point, it is all absorbed into the maelstrom of no return.It is so dark that the shadows run from themselves. Our lights cast eerie shadows and they run from themselves as we pass. They fade in and out of reality only to return again down the serpentine trail. They follow and haunt us and when you look, they disappear into the darkness.At times these shadows or ghosts of emptiness seem to reach out and try to grab you and all the while it is so eerily quite. The sounds are muted and all is absorbed, nothing escapes. It is way to Twilight zone here. It is though everything has died or gone to sleep except for the innate and those that live in the darkness of the void, they come alive.The eyes golden of the night creatures shine bright and follow us. They are the denizens of the night and the keepers of the forest and they do not like us here. Their are the jackals, their eyes shine into the emptiness of blackness, golden beams of destruction and evil. They fade in and out of sight. Are they alive or dead or in some purgatory station, wicked cool.The mighty trees are going to sleep and have shed their colorful autumn leaves. The leaves carpet the forest floor and hide the enemies of we riders, the rocks and off camber limbs making it somewhat hazardous now. The rocks and limbs lay in wait for us to pass, trying to throw us off our powerful steeds. They do succeed at times. The arms and fingers from unknown and unseen forest demons will grab at you as you pass by from the emptiness. They will rip at your clothing or jump up like a snake and try to hit your legs or bike, the unknown and dead come to life here and become real. The hard land of winter is just around the corner and it is so very special.The ground becomes cold and hard and it is so very fast. Ice can hide beneath the surface and the result is so very painful, yet exhilarating. Mountain biking is very cool in the fist snow.