Monday, August 10, 2009

To every thing there is a season

Scio Fram Lupus est scio silva phasmatis

The time has come for the wolf to leave the pack for a while. This is a scout, a reconnaissance, a reconnoiter, a time to search for tomorrow. How long this trek will take is unknown. What regions it will cover are unknown. If it even ever will end is unknown. Well, no. That is being a bit melodramatic. Surely, it will end at some point. Meanwhile, one thing is certain: Fram is on the trail; Fram is on the loose, for now.

During the interlude, enjoy the sound of music ancient to an epoch when time was measured only by the movement of the sun and the moon and the stars -- and there was none to measure it. The names of these singers are unknown, but they have been performing a never-ending generational song and have mastered it well.

Some trails are more fascinating than others

"I said this'd be my last trail," continued Wetzel. "I felt it, an' I know it'll be yours."


"If you get away .... the girl, she'll keep you at home, an' it'll be well. If you don't succeed, you'll die tryin', so it's sure your last trail .... I said it. Somethin' told me -- a hard trail, a long trail, an' our last trail."

A few words from the novel
"The Last Trail"

By Zane Grey

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