....and Atlas has a fumble on the 30 yard line, looks like he's going to take a beating for that one! 

[?] 

Hark Now Young Skipper

Tell me young skipper, where hence you are bound
Off, no doubt, to a land yet unfound
To battle fierce warlords
And merry their kin
Go now young skipper, go forth now and win

But when the tides prove nary unchallengeable
Then forget not the land of your birth
For there lies land yet and far conquered
There lies the land of great mirth

And on the high seas when crew becomes restless
Think back on the days that you have spent nest-less
And see this folly through their troubled eyes
On the high seas where man cannot die

See there young skipper!
Seven silver sirens evoke your requiem
O, but isn’t it sad
To see them make you so utterly mad?

Ha, regard those cattle so fine
They are truly healthy bovine
Who could they belong to if not a god?
The whole thing seems a bit odd…

Look far to the horizon young skipper!
There would appear to be some disturbance
All hands on! The bows pulled by this new force
It is as a bizarre fiendish hell-horse!

And now good skipper, you have no boat, you are alone
Do you not wish to have known?
What would have happened if you’d just stayed indoors?
Instead of venturing out unto the moors

Ah, but there on the shore I imagine your wife a-waiting
She’s been loyal in your time away
Suitors though pressed with, she has held onto her pride
And in good faith has stood by your side

And your own four children are all now full grown
O, how their golden hair has shown
And all the village awaits your return
Dreading that they might soon have to mourn

And yet on the open seas you tarry
Thinking of the days spent merry
Merry and mirth and all such vanities
But are necessary to humanity
You have forgotten; you are not aware
That in Death’s face you stare
What chances have you against the gods?
When faced by an enemy such as the Odds

You surely cannot win
You will die in Battle’s din
And on yonder shore you shall be sorely missed
By the wife you have but once kissed
She is beginning to doubt your return
She wonders if you are not so loyal as she
She wonders is you if with other women you be

But her love runs deep as a golden vein
And thus she is kept most sane
On yonder shore she will for eternity wait
Repenting her sins and dropping her pride
She in Gods name awaits your side

Hark now young skipper; I know where hence you are bound
Not to new lands or countries unfound
You are bound for Nowhere, and no place less
You in tantalizing agony must wait
For what though I think I’ll hate

Here now your tale shall end
Here now the bard must bend
He knows not what is the last chapter
He knows not what will happen after
He suspects and ponders
But at day’s end his only Truth are your wanders
Old skipper melancholy, Old skipper once august
Tell us in which tale we can trust

by god, its autumn! 

yah, they kind of had to tear me away from this pile of leaves to make me stop taking pictures of it (it was arranged by some other people, i just took the pictures and moved a leaf or three) 

same thing, but with only red 

one of those natures bounty shots 

water is fun 

... 

the pieces of paper represent the view from a camera. as you can tell i actually prefer to use a 3x zoom with light filters, but the piece of paper does the trick 

The chef at our school made this. The art club painted the mural, and the pot of flowers put itself there. Nice touch though 

Couple hundred years after our national anthenum was written, but the flag's still covered in light, of a different source though 

Ahem...

In regard to the picture of the tree's leaves at my school, tristan would like everyone to know that he is afraid of the ground, because the ground is lava