Richard Shindle Biography

The night was clear and beckoning as the dawn approached another sunrise
The campfire's ghost sent its last grey shadow soaring towards the towering mountain
Like the silence of death, the sun appeared along the misty horizon
The camp came slowly to life as a new fire kindled the figures below
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Of the high lonesome mountains I dream.
Of glacier fed rivers and clear mountain streams.

The peaceful stillness of a clear mountain lake,
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Death comes unexpectedly in the waning hours of darkness and another spirit ascends into the heavens at the crack of dawn.

A far away quake sends the tsunami rushing to shore where unexpected souls await their fate.
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The last glimpse of sunset infiltrates the giant red cedars as eerie shadows appear on the landscape below in the old growth forest.

The small unnamed island in Puget Sound settles in for the night, as night life sounds abound.
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The old man sat in his chair looking out the window, as the sunlight cast his shadow on the wall behind him.

Trying to kindle a fire that burned out long ago, memories raced thru his mind of times gone by.
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