Archive for romantic

The Waterfall That Sings

Posted in odds and ends, Photography, scripture with tags , , , , on September 10, 2011 by Tim R Wilson








A “secret place” I happened across. Here is Henline Falls, located in the Santiam Foothills by the Cascade Mountains in Oregon. The streams of these falls run a different volumes and together they sound like an ethereal chorus! I found the trail to these falls quite by accident, and alas alone, but next time I have to bring someone special with me yo enjoy the beauty and sounds of this wonderful area!

Psalm 42:7 NASB “Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.”


Carly’s Violin

Posted in odds and ends, story with tags , , , , , , on July 1, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

Another short story I did for lasts years fiction class ….

Carly’s Violin

The wise, ancient, musky scented wood felt velvety against her pale cheek. How it glistens and gleams. Hollows like windows into the soul. Who owned that violin? Whose hands slid, who admired the body like you? Like strings, it can respond to a single touch, playing out the notes you desire to hear. The violin can scream and whisper in crescendos, and for your great amusement, it sings high, low, every note in between.

She ran her thin fingers over the grooves and indentations, as if she was following a map to her destiny. In many ways she felt as though it was … Her muse and her meaning. Each string was plucked once with careful precision, checking for clear, clean tone, which called out to her very soul. It was perfect. The girl inhaled, pausing in that essential moment before the fragile strings of the bow make contact with the instrument below. The two were like temperamental lovers, and she brought them together to make magic, and the sweet music was born.

The world was lost in the moment. Half notes, whole notes, quarter, eighth, sixteenth notes. Unlocking hearts she plays, her fingers shifted around the neck, shimmering and shaking. Her eyes were closed, and to anyone who looked upon her, she appeared as a angel. As the music trembled into silence, she was surprised to see a young man standing so close. With a reluctant smile, he held out his hand.

In a moment the violin was in his hands. The girl stood behind the boy, pressing his soft, powerful fingers against the hard strings, molding his opposite hand around the wood bow. Momentarily the staccato, col legno, vibrato, crescendo were mastered with magical hands. She breathed with him, moving together to create that special moment. The music burned between them, and special it was. They had not experienced anything like it.

The boy surrendered the violin back to the girl, his face elated even as tears formed in his eyes. Quietly he reached into the depths his pocket, and dropped a few coins into the ragged fedora on the sidewalk.

“Please, play on.”

And so the girl did …

The Delight

Posted in story with tags , , , on May 14, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

Another short story for my fiction class at KCC.

The Delight


The lady’s house sat alone, down a dirt road in the middle of a rolling field. Her lawn consisted of dazzling yellow dandelions that were blooming in full. In her garden were fruit trees and climbing Romano beans, every kind of tomato, numerous vegetables ripening in the warm summer sun. Off to the side of an octagon cedar gazebo was a particularly noticeable raspberry bush.

Behind her porch was a single stone path that ambled straight through corridors of lavender, chamomile and an assortment of mint. It met a small koi pond that had blooming lilies floating on its surface.

The dress she had on was silk, very fluid and perfectly white like fresh snow, or perhaps a swan’s wing. The skirt was full length and golden ribbons served as a belt and trim to the neckline and hem. Her mahogany hair had been curled and hung in long loopy tendrils past her shoulders to her mid back. She looked in a word stunning, and yet …

She invited the gentleman in and showed him her cottage. It was hand built of stones and bricks, with wooden rafters from which there were thousands of scented leaves and sprigs drying. There were large glass windows which let in the moonlight and stood open to let in a gentle breeze tickling the Scottish Lace Curtains. Her bookcases were filled with knowledge, adventure and mystery. A river rock fireplace took up a wall of the kitchen, a large stone basin stood next to it.

The lady had counters of polished blonde oak, and cabinets full of dishes, some brightly colored, some of simple clay, all of her hand. She smiled at him and produced an old copper pot, which was filled half full and set over the stove. She turned on the burner as she rolled fresh Moroccan mint and buds from the lavender and set them afloat in the water. After it had boiled, she strained the moss colored liquid into two simple clay mugs ….


“Where is this place?”

“You’re only dreaming”

Blow the Rest Away

Posted in Philosophy, quote(s) with tags , , , , , on July 11, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

Friendship is the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weight thoughts nor measure words, but pouring all right out just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful friendly hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of comfort, blow the rest away.”

~Arab Proverb, quoted in H. L. Roush, Jesus Loves Me, (Roush, 1978)


Posted in odds and ends with tags , , , , on April 17, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

This one is making the rounds and I think its pretty cool. Here it is submitted to you minus the “send to X amount of people to get blessed this much” tag line ….




* * .* *.*.*.* OF HEAVEN

.*) .*) *.*.*LOOKED AT ME

. (.` *.*.*.**.*.*.*AND ASKED,

..*(`.) .*.*.*.*.* **.*. *WHAT IS YOUR

* .`.(`.) * . * . * .* *DREAM

* .*.. *`..* (`.) * .*FOR

.. *..(`.). *`..* .*TODAY?

.* … *`.. * *. * . * .**I

. * . * . . * . *.*. * . **ANSWERED:

__00000___00000 *.*. * .* .*GOD,

_0000000_0000000. * . * .*TAKE

_0000 OOOO 00000. * . * .*CARE

__0000000000000 * . ** .*OF THE

___00000000000 * . *. * . * .*PERSON

_____0000000 * . *. * . ** *.*THAT

_______000 * . *. * * * .*.*IS

________0* . * .. ** .. * .*.*READING

. * .. ** .. * . * . * .* . *.*THIS

. * . (.. *** /) * .*.*.*MESSAGE,

* . * ( ..(_)/ ) * * .BECAUSE

* . * (_ /|.. _) . *.* THIS PERSON IS

* . * . /___.. * . .* .*SO

. * . * . * . . * *SPECIAL!

What Kind Of Romantic Are You?

Posted in quizzes with tags , , on December 18, 2009 by Tim R Wilson

Had to check this quiz out of course! What Kind Of Romantic Are You?

 Click here: Quiz – What Kind Of Romantic Are You? – relationship love quiz – Quizilla Quizzes

  My result:

~*~Disbelieving Romantic~*~
The disbelieving romantic does not believe in love until he/she finds herself/himself in it.
You are not sure love exists until it hits you in the face. You feel (or will feel) lucky to have your partner and it makes them feel the same way. CAUTION! Because of your views on love you may seem cold or suspicious of people who are interested in you.

~Perfect First Date~
Anything with a lot of ice-breakers: a double date with friends, a date involving games like laser tag or bowling, casual hang out date with movies. Basically anything to bring out the real you.

~Perfect Anniversary Date~
You take your partner to a special place for you that you don’t share with anyone else so they wil realize that they mean more to you than anyone else.

The Brothers Karamazov/Father Zossima on Love

Posted in God, quote(s) with tags , , , , , , , on April 27, 2009 by Tim R Wilson


In The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Father Zossima’s humanity and his simple faith in the healing power of love were stressed. Now, another dimension is added. In these chapters we see that he can easily maintain an intellectual argument. Here is his response to a woman who tells him that she is afraid to die …. What do you think?

Go and Fear no More

“Don’t be afraid of anything, ever. And do not grieve. AS long as your repentance does not weaken, God will forgive everything. There is not–there cannot be– a sin on earth that God will not forgive the truly repentant. Why, a man cannot commit a sin so great as to exhaust the infinite love of God. How could there be a sin that would surpass the love of God? Think only of repentance, all the time, and drive away all fear. Have faith that God loves you more then you can ever imagine. He loves you, sinful as you are and, indeed, because of your sin. It was said long ago that there is more joy in heaven over one repentant sinner than over ten righteous men. Go now, and fear nothing. Do not be offended if people treat you badly. Do not hold it against them. And forgive your departed husband all the harm he did you. Become truly reconciled with him. For if you repent, you love, and if you love, you are with God. Love redeems and saves everything. If I, a sinner like yourself, am moved and feel compassion for you, how infinitely much more will God! Love is such an infinite treasure it can buy the whole world and can redeem not only your sins, but the sins of all people. So go and fear no more.”