Venture #2 | Christopher Tash

When I see a creek, river, or any body of flowing water I end up thinking about one of two things. The first is a large herd of wild horses. With wind ruffled mains and dirt dusted hides they travel close and along carved valley. The cramped space spooks the poor animals and they always begin to charge ahead faster when the walls get closer. Muscles fire off and they let out cries when they drag their skin across the rock beds and each other. Surging onward with a frightened pace so intense that there is no time to avoid any obstacles; the herd slams into rocks, logs, other anything in their way, several topple over each and others swell up over them without stopping. The earth slowly gets pulled away from their friends and family. The dirt and minerals are stripped from their calm and enjoyable lives like those drafted into surprise wars. Where do they go? To the end of the stream, when it broadens and the horses have more space to roam. They're dropped on their face, used, they have no more purpose and sit in the slower, shallow pools for the remainder of their existence. Sometimes the pebbles tell stories to each other, of their ride with the horses.

The other image that comes to mind is that of architects from ancient civilizations. They see the stone river bed and devour it like a starving artist devours a white open canvas. Each worker has a true passion for forming the old stone. They were all employed by some force that no one knows. All they truly know is that it's their job, their life, to conform the ancient stone. The earth is one way, right? It was created that way. The architects, water, want to change it to something more efficient and they work tirelessly to complete the job set for them. Each has a hammer and a chisel; tools as old and primitive as ever, but it works. One stroke at a time, one ring of the rustic hammer at a time. Each stripping a tiny bit more from the rock. The chips of rock fall to their feet, and when the old men shift their weight they kick the pebbles and stones to their neighbor, who, in turn, kick it a bit further. As they slide along the polished floor the chips themselves begin to smooth out. Some even start to bare precious metals and gems. The worth of the rock means nothing to the carvers though. They don't want it, they want to rid the world of these flaws. To them, it's not what the rock is, it's what the rock is hiding. They never end or tire. With a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other the men happily sing while they wither away the flaws of their world. You can hear their chat. It changes constant. Some roar and boast while they carve waterfalls. Others quietly babble in shallow brooks.

Listen..

Venture # 2| Kimberly Bennett

The night has eyes that burn in ways
that man can never understand.
Perhaps that’s where the fear comes in
when darkness falls across the land.
Night masks distractions of the day,
that pretend we’re bigger than we are,
and opens doors to unknown worlds
that once seemed way too far.
We hear the wind that speaks in ways
that are different from the day,
It does not laugh in mockery
But lets strange music play.
It echoes of a different world,
a time that man forgot,
that left behind a silent epitaph,
but did so all for naught.
Until we open up our souls
To see beyond the doubt,
The wisdom that they left behind
We will have to live without.
But when we let the night come in
And show the greatness of a star
It won’t really matter
How small we really are.
A different star a different dream
our sky no longer holds us down,
we look beyond our own storm tossed souls
to see the eternal crown.
Night frightens many wearied souls
for, it’s hard to feel so small
when compared to so great a universe.
And our God made it all.
Some fear the night because they can’t see
what’s always told them where they are,
for in the night time your only guide
is a distant burning star.
A star that burns in gratitude
that tells us stories old,
that fills the rift of misery
and makes our hearts grow bold.
Sometimes we don’t know where to go,
we’re lost in endless night,
but maybe what we need to see
is our own inner light.
I cannot pretend to know for sure
what happens when I let go,
when I step into the darkness
and hope that I will glow.
But night is not what we should fear,
for night is just like day,
it has its time, it does its work,
it glories then goes away.
What we fear is the unknown,
and how vast the unfamiliar night,
but sometimes seeing is what really happens
when we loose the gift of sight.

Venture #2 | Tawn Jewkes

(It was definitely a hot day. Too hot to be walking around Canyon Park looking for a college class might I add? The whole time I was walking around I was wondering if it was some sort of sick joke the class was playing on us freshman. Ok, now since that is out of the way…)

In a quiet trance, I stare at a family having a barbecue luncheon. The sizzle of the juicy burgers and the smell of the beef from the rising, steam vapors fills my nostrils. I hear a drip from the one of the burgers into the orange flame below, followed by a quick, split second sizzle. My attention is turned to three teenaged girls sitting on a blanket in the shade giggling, probably about boys. All three faces are smiling and lit up with laughter. I then notice the parents and grandparents. One father takes a baby from her mother and tosses her into the air over and over again as she squeals and grins with her two baby teeth coming into her soft, baby gums. I never knew so much went on at a simple family barbecue.

Venture #2 | Benjamin Dowse

About halfway up the red rock face, the telltale white-washing of their droppings on the rock gives away the nest's location. Its location is the first clue as to the incredible lives these creatures lead. Although not one of them is in sight, enough can be gathered simply from observing their home.
Two boulders jut from the side of the mountain and the patterns of white on their faces show exactly their favorite spots to sit on the rock, as they use their incredible eyes to survey their territory.
Their territory. Clearly this includes the sky. Only absolute masters of the air could even manage to reach the nest, let alone live there. The falcon owns the sky. It is the fastest animal on the earth. Looking up onto the majestic mountains that are its home, it is clear that I am merely a visitor.

Venture #2 | Celeste Johnson

(NOTE to Dr P - After today's class, I realize that I misunderstood the assignment and wrote a story revolving around an object I saw instead of just describing what I saw. So here is a different thing I saw and wrote about. Hope you understand!)

Soft brush strokes, followed by a few dainty smatterings, are just part of the painted canvas in the Cedar canyons. Like a sponge, I try to soak in all I can see. One in particular is a majestic mountain side which caught my eye. The coarse red rocks jut out here and there in askew angles. Some of the etched grooves look like the inside of a half-eaten Butterfinger. Other parts look crumbled, from years of varying weathers. Sparsely dotting the side of this mountainous face are little green fluffs. It kind of looks like Mother Nature took her paintbrush and flung green globs of paint at the canvas. Mother Nature's artist ability constantly astounds me.

Venture #2 | Janette Jones

As I sit in the hot, hot sun
I ponder about what I have done
As I sit and bake my skin
I think about how I have been

I think about how I'm so small
Compared to the world around me now
I see the sky so blue and bright
Without boundaries or limits in sight

I often think "Why did God pick blue?"
Why not red, pink or a golden hue?
There is so much blue, and so much sky
If I stare too long it makes me cry

Oh, how my eyes do burn
For the cool shade I do yern
Am I getting delusional
This heat makes me feel unusual

Venture #2 | Marjorie Riches

Leaves twinkle joyfully in the lazy blue daylight
Bouncing bright sunbeams off their faces,
Shining, trying to stand out in a sea of millions.
Wanting to be the biggest most beautiful on the tree,
The most important
Yearning for the sky to notice them and tell them,
You are a very special leaf.
Not realizing that they are only one leaf
Just one leaf on a huge tree
Just one leaf on one tree in the middle of the forest.
The sky, with the whole world to explore
Will never notice one little leaf.

venture #2 | Naiomi Hoggan

Red cliffs surround me. Jagged and rocky luming above me. The many cracks I see, makes me think that there could be something in these cliffs, or a hidden cave that waiting to be discovered. These red cliffs seem to becon me to come and explore, but do i dare? Standing next to any cliff, I don't dare to set a foot on them try and climb. I fear too greatly of falling to my death. I also feel as small as an ant next to a cliff. So for safety's sake I'll keep my feet firml y planted on the ground.
I love to be in the mountains and see the natural beauty of the world. The quietness of the mountains that calms the troubled noise of everyday life, sooths the soul and quiets the loudness of the city that ring endlessly in the ears. Give me the gentle breeze in the trees, the trickle of a stream, and the shatterless quiet that only gets disturbed by birds singing in the trees and I'm a happy person.

Venture 2 | Katrina Cox

The sound of multiple cars passing by this canyon in which we students sit in brings many questions to my mind. Human society in general is so caught up in their own lives that such places as this canyon are often passed by. Why stop in a natural park when there are other places--like clubs, bars, and cinemas--in which one could enjoy themselves? It makes me wonder if the passersby even notice our c ars parked alongside the road. Do they even have curiousity for why so many people are here at the canyon at this specific hour? Do they even care at all? How blind society is with all the rampant, technological advances and inventions! All anybody really needs to do is turn off their engines, open the door, and step out into what God has put on this planet. Listen to the flowing river, watch the trees and desert sage sway in the wind, watch the insects go about their daily routines, and just be . . . .

Venture #2 | Life Like A Rock | Chase Ferguson

Less than a half mile away sits an incredible huge walk wall. Where did it come from and why does it sit there? However after closer observation it appears not to be sitting but leaning. I wonder if it once stood straight and simply got tired of it. Like each of our lives it has a story to tell.
It has beautiful colors to show its’ diversity. The shades of red and orange that face this cliff are so deep no human mind could have created them. On the edges of the cliff are white streaks. Like many of us after years of stress and life’s weather beating upon us causing our edges to turn grey or white. Years of erosion have caused this cliff to take on its’ own shape. It is interesting how cliffs and mountains vary so much with geographical location. Even while in the same location you can never find two that are exact. And so it is with us. We all come from different walks of life and no two of us are the same. The erosion has also caused many cracks on this cliffs surface. I’m sure each tell its’ own story, some go deeper then others. Like an old persons’ face tells a goofy story as their wrinkles crinkle so does this cliff. And yet it seems that wisdom comes with these gray lines and cracks.
Should we go through so much trouble trying to shade and shelter ourselves from life’s storms? I have yet to find a cliff build a wall around itself or apply wrinkle cream to its surfaces. To me I think beauty comes with wisdom. So like a rock I’m going to stand up strong for whatever life throws at me.

Venture #2 | Rachael Fawcett

Its gentle slopes caress the brilliant cerulean sky above. It reaches a mighty height, reaching for clouds that today do not grace the sky. Its pristine beauty surrounds, and feels like new Earth. Its colors are great and dazzling. Sunset reds and oranges. The cliff face is almost serenely placed, straight and forward. Upon its sides rest small patches of green, great big trees and grass unseen. Its sheer faces smile down upon the road below. Where cars go zipping to and fro. They do not see what is up above, that soars up through the Autumn sky. Its wings caressing colorless air. It swirls in circles way up there. Its magestic beauty only matched by its cousin who is bald. It is alone and if one knows, it'll go on alone in that unending blue. Its a startaling black against the bright blue sky. So small it rises, by and by.

Today the sky is different, so covered by the clouds. The mountains don't look as pretty, and neither does the ground. The lovely hawk or eagle that I saw the other day. Has now but taken refuge from the thunderstorm today. Oh I wish it was like the other day, so clean and bright and pure. But that's the way the world works and I am sure there will be more. For clouds drift away someday and again the sky is bright. The rain brings up new life, and restores the Earth again.

But what will happen tomorrow? Nobody can fortell. For tomorrow could be a sunny day or wetter than today. It is for life that all is done. Its mighty forces loom. And to the mountains we must go to face the utter gloom. But then new life comes again, with springtime growing near. And sunny days do come again, to lighten up our fear. So let us learn from mighty mountain and hawk who soars so high, that tomorrow is another day to live and never die.

The Car Door - Venture #2 | Celeste Johnson

There it sits, lonely and bored, wishing for human contact. A boy walks over and carefully touches the paint. It feels smooth to his touch. “Dad, come here, I found one I want!” Dad walks over, sees the numbers listed on the glossy window; perfectly priced. The boy gets in to drive it off the lot.

*SLAM* The door closes and the car is excited to have its human counterpart.

“Hey everyone, I got it!” the boy shouts out the window as he drives up to school the next day. His friends rush over and excitedly chatter. “Awesome man! I love the sweet paint job!” The car beams with pride.

*SLAM* The boy gets out and goes to class.

A couple of years go by. The boy washes his car everyday after school, whether it needs it or not. The car knows his owner loves him. The boy goes many places and on many dates. Time keeps rolling on like a fast freight train.

*SLAM* The boy steps out in his high school graduation robes.

The boy goes off to college. The boy and the car share many adventures. The car has taken him to the mountains, the beach, friends’ houses, and on many dates. The boy makes a bad decision one night. The car is sad, how can the boy he loves and who loves him, make such a stupid choice. The car tried to stop him by not starting, but the boy was insistent and kept turning the ignition over and over until finally, the car started and reluctantly drove away from the curb.

*SLAM* The boy staggers out of the car with a bright light shined on his face.

The policeman asks him to walk a straight line. The boy can barely keep his knees from buckling but attempts to walk the simple lined course. The car sadly watches as the boy looks like a newborn deer trying to walk for the first time.

*SLAM* The boy is put into another car with handcuffs around his wrists.

The car despondently watches as the police car take away the boy. A tow truck comes, hooks him up, and takes him away to a place where he sits, for days and days, getting dirtier and dirtier. The car starts to give up hope of ever seeing his boy again.

*SLAM* The car is awoken from its glum existence as the boy gets in and drives away.

They are finally together again. The car runs smooth and is practically shining with excitement. The happy moment is cut short as the boy drives the car with less care and love than before. He hears the boy muttering to himself but can’t quite make out what he is saying. The car feels a few splashes on the leather upholstery, the boy is crying. With reckless abandonment the boy takes the curves in the canyon a little too fast. Suddenly….

*SLAM* The car door crashes against a big rock and is ripped from the car with sheer force.

The car flips over and over again until it finally stops upside-down a good distance from its door. The car realizes that the door wasn’t the only thing thrown from it. In the dirt across the road he sees a mangled mess. The car watches as another car with bright flashing lights comes and stops near the boy. There is nothing the car can do as he silently watches.

*SLAM* The doors of a hearse close, taking the body of the boy to his final resting place.

To this day, the car door still sits on the side of the road, all worn out and decrepit; a reminder of the reality of our choices.

Venture #2 | Brian Wall

The muddy water splashed up against the banks of the river as it hurriedly rushed through the overhanging trees. The water was not so fierce as to move a person or large animal, but enough to carry away stray branches and it filled the grove with music. One branch hung so low that its leaves brushed the surface of the stream and broke it into brown crests of water. Broken twigs and leaves flowed swiftly down the river bend.
Over the years the river had cut a gorge through the valley. High rocky outcroppings towered over the river like sentinels. They clearly stood out in the valley against the thick green foliage that was nourished by the small river. Beyond the valley lie barren desert and hot sand, but here protected by the high cliffs, the valley was an oasis.
The stream issued forth from the lone mountain peak miles away, and flowed down into the small valley providing much-needed sustenance to both plant and animal.

Venture # 2 | Samantha Gay

The amazing red mountains soared into the sky, standing silent and tall. Underneath the giants’ stoic and watchful gaze, a winding canyon road raced along their base. Mirroring the road was a river, babbling and prattling on, oblivious to the world beyond its high riverbanks. Bright green trees and shrubs lined the water bed, creating small but relieving patches of shade from the hot afternoon sun along a pathway made of cement that walked alongside the river. The trail branched out occasionally to create an overlook of the stream. On one such overlook there sat a bench. A normal bench by most standards, but the extraordinary environment added an allure to the bench, giving it a sense of greater purpose. This bench was bright green, a contrast to the red rock landscape surrounding it. It sat on a small hill facing the mountains, providing a beautiful and impressive view. A small tree grew next to it, providing a small portion of shade from the sun. It sat there; as afternoon turned to the coolness of evening, lengthening shadows and nature added crickets to the gentle soothing music of the river. Soon, up the empty pathway, came an old married couple. They walked slowly, swinging their joined hands gently and talking quietly about life and tiredness. They came to the bench and sighed as they sat down, easing the complaints from their tired legs and feet. The old man put his arm around her and the old woman leaned against his shoulder. They gazed at the beautiful and impressive view, the sky as it darkened and the stars as they came out, completely content in each others silent company.

Venture #2 | Robin Cole

Our little feats
of whatever miracle technology,
have nothing
on this, this upheaved slab of sandstone.
Something big, a very
big something happened here.

It was a chilling moment,
to be pulled back millenia
to the big event, a moment
pulled out of the car engine,
computer tower, TagHeuer swiss
mechanics ticking away on
my tiny wrist.
Unfocused on literature,
checkbooks and dog training,
writing and words, numbers
and science.

Here was a point where it happened.
The earth shifted, grated, lifted.

And here was a cracked face created,
a stretch broken into a vertical stance.
We found the pocket, ledges,
and holds. Our skitterty hands
and feet clung fearlessly

with chaulk bags, harnesses, ropes,
figure eights, biners, shoes,
and belayed egos. But it took

Instinct,quick pops, and jerky
demands. To top out,
our hands were unrecognizable
as they locked into stone, each
fingerprint ridge wedged, each
nail retreated and flushing
white then red. Shoes
smearing the rock with a
dime's worth of rubber. Each
head rush bringing up far too much
logic, each muscle clench
draining the blood back down
to go up, reach, step, go,
step, move, go. Up the face,
over the crux, upon the rock
we stand still.

Venture #2 | Tyson Pulsipher

Some things go unappreciated in life. From where I am sitting I can see two of these unappreciated “workers” going about their daily business. Though usually regarded as a pest or nuisance, it is quite seldom that we take the time to understand and appreciated the importance of these creatures. I remember my dad teaching their importance in our small garden as a boy. “If they did not come and pollinate the blossoms, then we would have to do it by hand with a Q-tip” he said. It’s thanks to them that we ever had delicious home grown tomatoes and squash, or that we enjoy the blooming of flowers in the spring.

Not only do they help with the blossoms on plants, they make our lives a little sweeter. I have always wanted to know what honeycomb tastes like…

Venture #2| Craig Vernon

Upon returning to my full conciseness I was instantly overwhelmed by the enormity of the sandstone mountain directly in front of me. In my mind I could hear Perry Ferrell singing, "I wish I were mountain size, no one moves you man no one tries." This is no plain mountain it is awash with the colors of life. This giant creation, in accordance with the time of mountain, the sand had become infused with Iron Oxide coloring the rock a thousand different shades of red and probably just as many shades of orange. The cedar pine and the sage brush give the hill side green freckles. The shadows are scarce here in the mid day sun, however the discriminating eye will pick out one or two defining the vertical crevices. A soft wind blows in my ear and the serene majesty of this rock near lulls me back to my meditative state. In the grand presence of nature's masterpiece, I have achieved serenity.

Venture #2 | Little

Did someone cause you pain and strife?
Retained on your fascade: the scars of life.

Do you hurt with all your lines?
You've been mounted, carved and pierced with time.

For each scar that you now bear,
where did they come from, can you tell me where?

I want to know if you feel like me
Standing tall for the world to see

On display, yet no one cares
to visit you in your despair.

What do you do in times like these?
You have no voice, or knees like me.

But then again I don't know
what is inside, what you don't show.

You let me sit inside your home
no complaining, not a single moan.

And it's with the same respect I'd give
a chance for you to observe where I live.

But once your sight is through my eyes
you will know how closely we live our lives.

Wanting scant, but giving spare
just hoping for the world to care.

And maybe by example we can try
show that nature isn't that different from mankind.

Venture #2 | Kaytlen Bennett

How would it be to stand on top of the world? When looking out would it be humbling? That is to say if one could stand on top of the world. Where would the top be? What would determine it the top of the world? I assume you could get pretty close when standing on top of a mountain, and then when on top of the mountain you could search for a lone tree to get higher off of the ground. It may take a while to find a tree depending on the height of the mountain. When that tree is found standing proudly at the top of his world (for that mountain would be the only world he would know), with his branches stretched forth into the sky and out into the surrounding area around him. He’s sat on top of that mountain and seen the rest of the world from a view from the top.

When you arrive at this strong tree you reach up and lift yourself into the first layer of braches and leaves. The bark is thick and matured with age. Steadily moving upwards you make your way up into the tree. You stop to take a break half way up the tree and sit and listen to the light breeze bring the leaves to life. After a moment you begin your climb again, once or twice you may scrape your skin, but you’ll keep going. Finally you emerge from the leaves. The sun caresses your skin with her warmth and you look out. You are alone at the top of the world. You are away from the cares of your everyday life. The gentle wind does not care about your graying hair, it blows through it happily.

But what would you see as you gazed out into the world? Would you be amazed at the beauty or would you see the scars left by people such as yourself? Would a smile fill your face or would tears flee your eyes? I cannot tell you’d what you would see. It is not for me to tell you. You must experience it for yourself to truly know what you would see.

Venture #2 / Karrie Gull

The water flowed continually through the mountains, it had done so for many, many years. Some years had brought forth a greater abundance of water while other years only supplied enough water to trickle down through the mountain paths. Many droughts had encumbered the land and effected the water abundance, but the course of the water was unchanging running free and true. The water is not and was never selfish for it gives freely to all who desire it's fresh cool taste. Many nearby trees have pulled their roots up from the dry soil in pursuit of the water below; though many had not as yet to reach the cool and quench their thirst. The life around the water is strong, it is the greatest friend of the fellow ant who scurries this way and that. The greenery is lush and colorful along the water's edge, and creates if you will a mini paradise for the insects who crawl and climb below. One by one all creation comes to and depend on the water, and one by one all thrive and live from it's juices. The water helps bring and sustain life.