Okay so a little about me , I am easy going laid back and got a free spirit I am also staight forward dont want the truth dont ask . Dont like me thats your problem . I hate saying it that way but have been on here long enough to know who is who . I AM NOT HERE FOR CLIQUES , CHILDISH GAMES OR HIGH SCHOOL DRAMA OR NSFW PICS. I know that doesnt make me sound like the above but I am .I just really hate games. I love my fu-family and fu=friends . Mess with my real family and sh!t will hit the fan . so yes I am very protective of the ones I love and care about . Dont poke the bear with the crazy stick .So with that said i like photography , so please dont ask for pics of me when i behind the lense shooting ! Love photographing the local wild life , and nature . In my opinion the best time of the day is at night under the moon against a tree its very energizing , and enlightening . I am not wiccan , I am more heathen than anything . I love all things natural and nature made ! Rain and Snow does not bother me I am thrilled when we get it ! again its energizing and powerful , and intriguing ! I lvoe helping EVERYONE (within reason) . I DO NOT FOLLOW FU-ETIQUETTE for it does not exsist in sooo many ways , Fu-etiquette to me means like rate fan polish . Dont like it get over it ITS A GAME ! so with that NEED HELP ASK ! I AM ON , OFF AND ON , ALL DAY LONG . SHOUT BOX ME AND I WILL GET BACK TO YOUJ AS SOON AS I CAN. LOTS OF BLESSINGS OF LOVE LIGHT HAPPINESS AND LAUGHTER .




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Good Hours
I had for my winter evening walk
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.

Robert Frost 1915