TIME TO CHANGE

Lets all help Al Gore “Repower Amercia”.
It’s time to stop using fosil fuel, so let your voice be heard put your face on the wall and together we’ll Repower America” at www.RepowerAmerica.org

peace
Dave L.

ONE DAY

One day we will shed a tear for humanity, not because we feel fear or hatered, but because we’ll finally understand, that indeed we are all one.
peace
Dave L.

RyAnne

RyAnne, originally uploaded by David and Emma.

I am finding I enjoy doing studio style shoots almost as much as the outdoors. Enjoy this image from a non-HG shoot

wintersolstice

I love it when the day start getting longer again. Even though it may start out by just a couple of seconds, that fine by me. I wanted to wish all of the brothers and sisters here in the land of the HippieGoddess love and light.

peace
Dave L.

And it seems, that the world is in motion.

I remember laying in a school yard at night as a teen, my mind swimming with acid and the stars circling above like great gears in spinning wheels that formed an organic and cosmic machine that powered the planes of existence and the dimensions that held the now.
Some time later of course I came down from that trip as I had come down from other similar ones, but never once did I mistake the illusion for the reality.

I traveled down tunnels of flipping poles of light and darkness where a thousand lifetimes blended into one as I believed we are not so much reincarnated as simply immortal as one. We could not as such be reincarnated because it implied I was but a single soul, which of course I was, because after all, there is only the one of us anyways. And I awake, but I never mistook the delusion for the truth.

I watched multi-colored lizards crawl across the carpet while a plane with trumpets flew around on some pink camouflage that still retains the status of legend in the town it was sold. But I always knew what was fake.

And as mymind became swamped and could stand to trip like that no more, as I aged and hardened I never doubted what was and what was not.

When this shell fades, I know I will travel again, and it will seem that only a blink of time has passed, a moment when all in between decays as a husk, returning to the stream.

It was for so long my fear to lose myself, my independence and originality, my definition of self that I was so in love with.

Now I long simply to join the stream and become myself, because after all, there is just the one of us here and though it will seem a short time then, from the now it seems so long, until I find my way home.

Written by David

The Quarry

The quarry is a mystical place that really exists, where young people go to watch nymphs swim naked and bask on granite heated by the summer sun. I wrote this story many years ago. Most of it happened just as I tell it.

The Quarry
by Matthew

I grew up in northern Vermont and lived there, in a rural town, with my brother. There weren’t many jobs. In the winter we worked in the woods, cutting trees for lumber or pulp, or on the railroad, laying rails at thirty below with the wind whistling through the cuts. In the summer we worked on family farms, mostly dairy.

It was summertime. My brother and I and three friends were baling hay, which meant running a baler behind a tractor, breathing diesel fumes, getting eaten by black and deer flies, and tossing eighty pound bales onto a wagon for hours on end. It was hot, sweaty, demanding work, and when we’d finally finished, we knocked off and decided to go to the quarry.

The quarry is old and abandoned and a wonderful place, especially at the end of a hot day. When we got there we parked our car off the road and walked for almost half a mile through a stand of mature hardwoods, mostly sugar maple and yellow birch. It was quiet, peaceful, almost mystical, and the long walk gave us a chance to mellow out.

At the end of the path the trees opened into a great bowl—well, really, a small bowl. It was dainty by quarry standards, but the walls of tumbled granite gave it grandeur befitting its age, and at the bottom of the bowl was a crystal clear pond fed by underground springs. The water was clean enough to drink and icy cold, even in midsummer.

The Quarry

The quarry’s isolation and beauty made it a prime spot for skinny dipping, and except for the most shy it was always used that way. There were five of us guys, hot and dirty and hoping to get lucky, finding a few women to watch basking on the rocks.

I was in my twenties, and my brother and friends were a couple of years younger, and though we were disappointed to find ourselves alone, we had a fine time cooling off in the water, drinking beer, and sitting naked, warming back up on the hot rocks.

The work and swim had primed us with a fierce appetite, and we decided to leave and go someplace to stoke up on calories. Yet, no one seemed in a rush, and so we dressed and swapped tales while we passed around the last bottle of a six-pack. We finished and were about to grab our gear and get on the road when we heard footsteps rustling in the leaves. We turned, and to our astonishment two wood nymphs walked into the clearing. They weren’t real nymphs, but they could have been, with the way they looked and how they surprised us. I guessed them to be about eighteen or nineteen but all grown up, if you know what I mean.

“Hi,” we all said, or nodded, trying to be as friendly and unthreatening as we could. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that each of us guys had the same thought: Are they going to take their clothes off? I was sure the girls knew what we were thinking.

One of the girls came forward but not too close. The other girl hung back. She seemed uncertain and maybe a little frightened. “Hi,” the one that came forward said. “How’s the water?”

“Cold and refreshing,” I told her. I was trying hard not to stare, but she was more than an eyeful, and I failed miserably. She didn’t seem to mind, though. There wasn’t much doubt that they’d come to swim. Thoughts of their nudity raced through the pleasure centers of my brain. I imagined her thinking Do I dare?

“My friend, Connie, has never been here before. She’s visiting. I’m Melina.”

“I’m Matt.” I turned to her friend. “Hi Connie,” I said. “It’s okay, we’re friendly.” The rest of the guys grinned and nodded.

Connie took a shy step forward and smiled hesitantly. “Hi,” she said, still not sure about us. I could sympathize with her fears, but I’d never known anyone who ever went to that magical place to be disrespectful, let alone dangerous.

Melina took the towels and a cloth bag from Connie, put the bag down, and spread the towels out to make a nest. She took Connie’s hand and guided her to their spot, and Connie sat. Melina began unbuttoning her shirt.

The five of us guys watched her undress. She turned to the side, with a hint of modesty, but she still gave us a fine view. She took off her shirt, dropped it, and stood in a bra that fit loose to breasts that didn’t need one and jeans that hugged the curves of her ass. She waited, watching ripples of breeze blowing across the water.

I couldn’t believe the perfection of the moment, watching this nymph of a goddess, anticipating her going the next step. Every one of us—I, my brother, our friends, and Connie— hung on every movement of every muscle of this divine creature who so generously shared herself with us.

It couldn’t get any better, I thought, but it did. A trout jumped, grabbed a fly, and disappeared into the dark, leaving concentric rings spreading across the pond. It broke the ice, and we all laughed, even Connie. We boys looked sheepishly at each other.

Melina undid the button of her jeans. She peeled them down and off, bending and showing us her backside while she balanced precariously, pulling the jeans off her legs and feet. Then she stood again to show us her progress, and I swear that every living thing in that great bowl, and every thing that wasn’t living, every tree that had forced its roots into a niche seeking life among those massive blocks from a time gone by, and every grain of quartz and microcline within those thousands of tons of ancient hard rock, and especially all the souls of all the men who’d ever blasted, sweated, broken and died among those monoliths from earths deep guts—everything, everything—turned her way.

She smiled. She was the center of attention. It was what she had come for. After a moment she reached behind, in that gesture only a woman can make, unclasped the catch of her bra, and peeled it down her arms and off her breasts, revealing them in all their glory.

Breasts are splendid—a pleasure to touch and be touched—but the breasts of a girl just come to womanhood are rare and budding flowers. And that fine day Melina’s breasts were a gift to the five young men she found before her and a gift, I believe, intended even more for her young friend.

There was still one more gift to give, and she gave us that too. She turned toward us and stripped that last slim garment down her legs and stepped out of it, and she spread her legs wide enough to let us see her golden tufts and swirls and the fullness of the sweet lips they adorned. Thank you Lord, I thought. Now I can die in peace.

At this point I believed Melina was a little embarrassed by her performance. She looked to the side and said, “I’m going to jump,” and she gestured to the cliff over the pond, about twenty feet from the water where lots of people take the plunge. I was sure she was embarrassed, because then she said something silly. She said, “I hope I don’t break a tit.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” I replied, and I felt as foolish for my lame comment as she must have felt for hers. The moment really called for something eloquent, insightful, or timeless, but I wasn’t at my best.

We watched her jump and then watched as she swam and gamboled in the water.

Skinny Dipping — photo by Kyle C

Finally, she felt chilled, and she swam to the shore and began to get out, but she looked down at her breasts and was clearly embarrassed. Her nipples were swollen and distended—as much so as I was sure they could ever be—and pointing right at us. I could see, for a moment, she didn’t know what to do—get back in the water or cover them up. She chose to cover them with an arm, as she stood, but hiding her nipples embarrassed her even more, and with a shrug of resignation she lowered her arm and let us look. Then she turned and showed Connie, who was watching as intently as any of us guys. I imagined Connie getting wet between her legs. I’m sure she did, her wetness welling from deep, dark, and secret underground springs all her own.

Melina dried herself, but her nipples stayed hard for a long time, and she got used to us staring at them. After we’d been together long enough to get comfortable just hanging out, she even got to flirting with us by pulling her shoulders back from time to time, and once she raised her arms and stretched. It was hard for me not to get hard, the naughty tease.

“Where do you live?” I asked Melina?

“I live in Woodbury. What about you?”

“Noyesville,” I said. “We must have missed each other in high school.”

“I just got out a year ago. You must have been ahead of me. You look like you were haying.” My scratched forearms were a giveaway.

“Up at Palmer’s farm.”

“Bob Palmer’s my uncle. Actually, my father’s cousin, but we call him uncle. He’s nice.”

“He is. He pays us better than most, and Martha feeds us lunch, which most folk don’t. I’ve worked for him three summers in a row, and I helped him skid logs last winter.”

“I’m surprised we’ve never met.” Melina took a deep breath, and drew her shoulders back again—not that she needed the advantage. “I thought I knew all the cute guys around here.”

“You missed one. My loss, I guess.”

She laughed playfully, and then she whispered, “I’d better pay attention to Connie. She’s visiting from the city. She’s my girlfriend from college, and she gets jealous if I pay too much attention to guys.”

Connie was lying on the towels in the sun, and Melina lay down naked beside her as we watched her every move. She wasn’t showing herself any more, but she wasn’t hiding anything either. She went about her business, her legs would spread or close as her movements required, and we’d catch glimpses of her femininity.

She lay beside Connie and nuzzled her mouth into Connie’s neck. I could hear Melina purr, a sweet gravely growl from deep within. The vibrations from her lips and throat seemed to close her friend’s eyes, and I could see Connie drift to a place where only she and Melina existed.

“You said you would,” Melina said.

“I don’t want to,” Connie whispered, turning toward Melina but with her eyes still closed.

“You promised.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I want you to.”

“Please, don’t make me.”

Melina pulled the shirt from her friend’s jeans. Connie whimpered but didn’t resist, and Melina slid her hand beneath the waistband and part way down, resting her fingertips on Connie’s pubic mound. Her long middle finger must have been a bare fraction from the clitoris below. I could see her finger arching, pressing, and pulling the flesh upward, stretching the skin and teasing, but not touching the sensitive tissue nearby.

“If you do, when we get home, I’ll do what you like best,” Melina promised.

“And if I don’t?”

“I won’t.”

“You bitch.”

“You love it.”

“Can’t we go home now? Please?”

“Not until you take your clothes off.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll let you do it to me.”

“My favorite thing?”

“Mm-hmmm.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

“Oh,” she groaned. “You’d better, or I’ll never speak to you again.”

“I will.”

“Okay. You can take them off.”

“I want the boys to do it.”

“You really are a bitch. I’m going to kill you.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“I don’t want them to touch me, okay?”

“I don’t want them to touch you either.”

Melina turned to me. I’d said the most to her, so I was chosen. “Would you do it” she asked?

I was speechless. I nodded my head, vigorously.

“Come close,” she said to the others. “You can watch.” She looked at me. “No touching.”

I nodded in agreement.

I straddled Connie’s legs and fumbled with the button on her jeans. They fitted her like a glove.

“Go slow,” Melina said to me, and then she passed her hand gently over Connie’s face to close her eyes again. She wrapped her arms around and under Connie, now passively awaiting her fate, and kissed her long and wet with her tongue deep inside her friend’s mouth.

Connie wrapped her arms around Melina and kissed back.

I unbuttoned Connie’s jeans and slowly slid down her zipper. We all listened to the rasp of its teeth. Connie lifted her hips. Cooperative, I thought, and I walked backward on my knees, took the cuffs, and with help from her most delightfully arching and twisting I worked her jeans down and off. Wow, nice, I thought.

Melina continued to kiss and nuzzle Connie who continued to hug Melina tightly, for security, as we guys leaned in close. She was still covered with a string bikini between her legs, but her prominent mons rose invitingly, and her vulva was a tight little handful in a cute cloth pouch. I longed to squeeze her tenderly but firmly in my fist.

Connie raised her knees and closed her legs, but Melina wouldn’t let her and pushed her friend’s legs flat again. She placed the fingers of one hand on her friend’s thigh, gently insisting she open for us.

“Ohhhh,” Connie moaned. I don’t know if it was Melina’s touch or being exposed that caused her to cry out.

Melina looked at me. “Take her panties off,” she said.

“No, no,” Connie moaned and closed her legs tightly.

Melina moved and sat behind her friend’s head. She lifted and placed Connie’s head in her lap and stroked Connie’s cheek. She leaned over and kissed Connie’s mouth, and then she slid her hands into her friend’s shirt and under her bra, cradling her breasts. I imagined Melina had two fingers around each nipple. Her hands worked, and Connie writhed and moaned at Melina’s touch.

I slid Connie’s panties down and off, touching her as little as possible. And there she was—all her womanly wildness bare, smooth, and exposed—not a hair to be found.

“I did that last night,” Melina said. “Do you like it?”

Yes, I nodded my head enthusiastically. Yes, yes, yes. “I wish I could have it,” I said sadly.

“It’s all mine,” said Melina.

I nodded. I understood.

Melina unbuttoned her friend’s shirt, and Connie lifted and helped take it off. Melina unclasped her bra and Connie helped take that off to. She looked at each of us, so close to her, leaning over her body, now completely bared, and how we lewdly inspected each shadow of each hollow of every bone that we could find showing through her skin, every crinkle of each nipple and curve of each breast, the inward flow of her waist, the dimple of her navel, the swell of her abdomen and hips, and the treasure between her legs which she opened, willingly, to let us admire.

“You’re a good girl,” Melina said. “Now I’ll take you home.”

“And you’ll let me?”

“Yes, I’ll let you do it to me,” she said, and she kissed her friend once again. As she did, Connie’s legs spread, and I could see the milky pool gathered there, waiting perhaps in anticipation of Melina’s fine fingers touching.

When the last of the sun sank behind the hills, Melina and Connie dressed, and we walked them to the road and said goodbye. We thanked them both for their generosity.

“You’re welcome,” Melina said. Connie looked away, then back, and she shyly gave me a cute smile and a nod.

“Wow. I never seen nothin’ like that before,” my brother Billy said after the girls got in their car.

“I don’t think I can eat,” Dennis said. We all turned to stare at his prodigious belly.

“That’ll be the day,” said Rob, and we all laughed.

“What do you mean? It’s all muscle” Dennis retorted defensively.

That really got a good laugh.

We piled into my pickup, and as I drove away I glanced in my mirror and saw Melina behind her steering wheel and Connie straddling and kissing her in wild abandon.

Garden Goddess

I was wondering, if anyone has seen Ingrees? I do miss the goddess of the garden.

peace

Dave L.

A request!

There has been a request for me to blog again! I’m honored to be asked to share my thoughts with all of you. Life has been pretty good. Got over a feverish sickness by hiking a bunch in Big Sur and big basin. Big Basin is just about one of the most beautiful parks I have ever been to. But it doesnt quite beat the northern california coast redwood parks near arcata. Those forests will always hold a place in my heart. They are so magical and amazing. I think lots of beautiful fairies live there. They give me a great natural high. Plus, I got to sleep in the new van by the ocean with a near full moon. Completely magical and powerful.

I am in the midst of planning a road trip down to Baja and then through the states. I am very excited, as I have only been to about 8 states in my life. If you have any suggestions of places to check out, please feel free to tell me your stories!

Light and love

Ines

A story request

Matthew, it has been such a long time sense the last time you told all of us a story. I have a request in mind about how Alexia The Goddess of Beauty was wandering until she stumbled upon this beautiful garden and in doing so she befriend Ingress The Goddess of the Garden. or any would be fine.

Peace
Dave L.

The Amazing Storm Large!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HONEY BEES

I was watching a program on PBS the other night and it really made me think about the smaller picture.There are alot of problems that we face on this planet. We look at all the wars, the hatered for one onther the poluting of the waters, the lose of a certain percentedge of the rain forest, the ice caps melting etc. I will have be honest with you when I tell you I never thought that much about the little Honey Bee. Researchers say, that in the next five to ten years if they can’t pin point why the Honey Bees are dying of by the hundred of thousands, there will be no Honey Bees in the US by the year 2035!!!!!!!! No more fruits, no more flowers, no more veggies, no more anything that the little Honey Bee pollinates….. Your thougths?

Peace
Dave L.

We are back after a week of traveling in a big ole 36 foot RV through southern Oregon and into Northern California!

It has been a few years since we have seen the redwoods that were once so much a part of home. They awed us anew.

We traveled with good friends and shared laughter, good drink and fine foods, I miss them already, though we are not far.

I shot a bunch of photos. Ill bore you with them, like Grandma after a cruise vacation.

We trolled the lake on a pontoon boat and swam the cool waters. We sat by the fire and smoked and drank and talked, way too many families close by for us to sing and drum unless we wanted to be rude, which we really did not.

We brought way too much stuff.

Emma fell and hurt her ankle, its still changing colors.

The Puppies were sweetness and playful love.

I lost a shutter release cable.

A good time was had.