That's all she wrote....

We have this wonderful cabin up in Hayward Wisconsin, which we visit as often as possible. The view over our Callahan lake is stunning, and every time I'm there, I can't help but be inspired by the sights, the sounds (or lack thereof), the smells and the atmosphere as a whole. With those senses in mind, I wrote this...piece. Not really a poem, not really a paragraph.

The Cabin


So far away, from who you’re supposed to be.
Re-creation of one’s self, be who, be what you want.
And one’s mind is free to imagine, explore, or simply be quiet.
Inspiration is inevitable, and one will surely find one’s self.


The water is still, like a mirror to the sky
Catching the picture of an ever flying bird.
The silence is deafening, it echoes in your ear,
The fragrance of nothing fills the nose, and it is
stronger than the strongest of scents.

The wind is soft, and dances across the face
And twists one’s hair playfully,
The fish swim lazily in the shadows of the brush.
In the lake which color’s are that of an artist’s canvas.

A grown man is to turn to childhood here,
Exploring, seeking, finding.
Endless days of swimming and fishing,
Without one care elsewhere.

And this place, far away,
Hidden from society,
Is where I’ve spent many a summer,
Just simply taking in the sights.


Keaton Buster
Aug 26 09

Some of my photos

At this point, I'm quite discouraged if anyone is reading this at all. Is this more of a journal to myself, or is anyone actually enjoying my writing? I really have nothing to write today, so it's time to share my photos. Comment, critique, criticize, enjoy?

The beauty of tea. This is my favorite shot, hands down.

The Sears Tower. 'Willis' Tower. I refuse to call it by it's new name, ever again.

The walking path at our Wisconsin cabin. I miss this place.

Bear, the dog with the biggest personality, out of any dog I've ever encountered.

Bear's eye. Such a scary eye for such a gentle dog.