FREE eBook on being a leader! A two day offer.

Dec 30-31 I am making an eBook free for downloading. If you have ever thought that maybe you should be leading in your church or ministry, check this book out. A good "first look" at leadership, especially for young people. As a former church leader and missionary team leader, I felt that writing such a book might help some younger adults who desire to step out and take leadership positions.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LPZEAFU

The Christmas Challenge

(This is a sequel to “An Under-the Pier Christmas” which I wrote and posted on my blog in 2011)

It had been a rough year. The Under-the-Pier neighborhood had gone through a lot. First, there was the sinking of the old tug boat tied up to the St. Simon’s Island pier. Though the humans had raised it and taken it away, it had caused quite a bit of damage to the sea creatures’ homes.

Then there were the two big storms which had caused such damage with their winds and messed up tides. The bottom had been badly affected by the shifting sands and mud banks. Once again many sea creatures had lost their homes. Why, Billy Crab was missing for a whole week before he managed to tunnel his way back out of the mess!

Then there was the invasion by the dolphins. These playful creatures often visited the area daily, but this time they came in such numbers and were so playful that they had unintentionally wreaked havoc on the community. Several of Billy’s cousins had been playfully carried far out into the sound before they had been dropped off by the dolphins. They thought it great fun to use the crabs as objects to be playfully thrown across the waves and then rapidly retrieved. Then teams of the dolphins would use the crabs to play keep-away, also.

All in all, it had been a rough year for the sea creatures which normally lived somewhat peaceful lives below the St. Simon’s Island pier. And now as Christmas approached, they were exhausted from dealing with so many events. As some of their leaders gathered to discuss how the holiday would be observed their meeting was somber. So many homes had been lost and damaged. Few of their decorations were to be found. “What to do?” they wondered.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Someone later said they thought it had been Wiley Sea Turtle who came up with the idea. No one really remembers for sure who it was, but a gentle voice spoke above the din of discussion and asked, ”What about borrowing some decorations?” Sally Starfish asked immediately, ”From where?” The crowd looked around as the question sank in on them.

“Well… there is the old abandoned cottage just near the lighthouse. Those people used to have a lot of decorations around on their little pier. They just drove away one day and never came back. At least that is what Herman Crab told me last year. Maybe they left their decorations.” For a few minutes, no one spoke. The thought began to bring smiles of relief as the creatures suddenly erupted into many “Maybes” and “Could be’s” and several “Let’s go look’s”. Soon a decision had been made and several brave crab folk volunteered to approach the long abandoned cottage along the beach and scout out the possibilities.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The day before Christmas several of the Under-the-Pier folk were hanging out near Ralphie Crab’s lunch bar admiring the decorations gently swaying in the morning’s current. “That was a GREAT idea!” stated Billy Starfish with a huge smile on his face. “Yep!” chimed in the crowd. “Who all participated in bringing the decorations back from the cottage?” asked Lily Starfish, as she looked around. “Oh those guys are easy to spot,” said Herman Crab.  “They are the Crab folk with the long scratch marks on their shells,” he said. “No one knew that a wild house cat claimed that cottage as his own and they had to wrestle him into a knotted pile of garland in order to get the rest of the decorations out of there.”

“Well, they sure are brave Crab folk!” declared Lily. “Yes, they are!” agreed the crowd. “And,” chimed in Herman, ”They have already agreed to return the decorations after Christmas. Seems that now, every time that cat sees a crab, he spits and hisses and runs off! They don’t think he will be a problem for them next time!” The crowd laughed as they all admired the beautiful decorations.  

THE END

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

READ THE REAL CHRISTMAS STORY HERE IN THE 

BIBLE...Luke 2:1-20.

	MERRY CHRISTMAS!

 

Attack of the Raccoons!

(This little true story is from my book, Okefenokee Tales, which is available on the sidebar.)

Like that title? Well, it was not exactly an attack...more like a raid.

You see, many years ago we were canoeing through the Okefenokee Swamp from the east side entrance near Folkston, Georgia, headed for the southwest exit at Stephen Foster State Park.

I had my little brother with me then and a group of boys and men from a church. We were about 15 miles in and had stopped for the night near the end of the Suwanee canal run. We made camp, cooked supper and had plans to sleep peacefully through the night after the many hours of paddling. I knew we might be visited during the night by raccoons or some other critter, so I instructed the group to hang the garbage bag from a high tree limb, which they did. In fact it was hanging slightly out over the edge of the water in which there were alligators going to and fro on their alligator business.

About an hour after sundown, with darkness in full mode, the raccoons began their attack! Padding almost with ghostly silence they suddenly were everywhere! They first made for the canoes and found our full size ice chest in one of them. With almost no effort, they pulled the lid off which landed with a loud clatter in the bottom of the canoe. This loud, unexpectedly loud and echoing, noise seemed to call the alligators to zero in on the raiding raccoons. It also startled the raccoons themselves.

Our guys shot out of their tents to save the food in the ice chest! The raccoons scattered, the alligators whipped to and fro in the water's edge looking for a careless meal...animal or human would probably have been fine with them. The boys quickly secured the ice chest's top with a menagerie of ropes and crisscrossed paddles and whatever other gear they could find. They also canoed out and retrieved a floating vest which one of the raccoons had knocked into the water. This vest had attracted the attention of an alligator so a paddle was used to whack him in the snout and retrieve the vest. 

Now, the second wave of the attack was launched! The crafty critters climbed up into the large tree and out on the limb from which our trash was suspended. At that point one of them dove down onto the hanging bag and crashed it to the ground! The trash was everywhere and the buffet was open!

Our guys grabbed paddles and shoes to throw and launched a counter attack to try and save the mess from being carried off into the swamp. After a momentary standoff, the raccoons retreated. The trash was gathered and someone allowed it to be put into their tent for the night. Everyone settled down and lay awake for a while inside their tents recounting their individual acts of bravery to their tent mates (in case they had missed it during the fracas). It was a while before they could sleep after so much excitement.

The next day saw us exit the swamp after a difficult push through some very grown over spots along the trails we followed out. We had no further issues with wildlife and the boys (and the men) loved the trip!

For weeks afterwards, boys recounted this night's adventure to anyone at church or school who would listen. I am sure the size and ferocity of the raccoons grew as the stories were told and retold.

The End

If you would like to learn more about the Okefenokee Swamp (America’s largest fresh water swamp), check out these websites:

http://www.okeswamp.com/       (I work here part time)

http://www.gastateparks.org/info/scfoster/

https://www.fws.gov/refuge/Okefenokee/visit/plan_your_visit.html

My Latest Published Story

Folks, check out the summer edition of Waycross Magazine here to read my latest published story, "The Night Hunter". The story is set along the beautiful Satilla River of South Georgia. I hope you will like it.

cb

Satilla River of South Georgia with early morning fog. Near Waycross, Georgia.

The Heroes

The new coach stood in coat and tie,
The boys in the hall emotions strung high.

Together they awaited the announcer's call,
Trembling with excitement they proudly stood tall.

Finally the call and roaring of cheers,
Faithfully they answered hiding their fears.

Every self-doubt hid with bravado and bluff,
Each of them wondered had they worked hard enough?

As they run through their lay-ups and shoot free throws,
Nervousness dies and anticipation grows.

Stuck alone in the open clipboard in hand,
Stands the nervous young coach their number one fan.

Has he forgotten anything - - is their strategy sound?
Heaven only knows but soon truth will be found.

The whistle blows and play begins,
Tiny flaws in strategy coach quickly mends.

Action ebbs and flows in a tense ballet,
All on the line it's won with a masterful play.

Players and coach are praised high and low,
Passing into the night they leave the gym in a glow.

And the good thing about it as memories dim,
All will be heroes that night in the gym.

Clint Bowman
21 Nov. 1995

Little Bill’s Last Run

(Average reading level: grade 8.7)

The old warrior was impatient. He quivered and shifted nervously. Suddenly, he blew hard, an exhalation of nervous energy. The gelding was a long time veteran of these rodeos. He knew well his task, his explosive mission. And he sensed that the time was now here.

Sally had ridden him hundreds of times in dozens of arenas here in South Georgia and north Florida. At 37, she was considering calling it quits after this fall’s circuit of rodeos was done. Her rock solid, faithful steed was at the end of his barrel racing time and she couldn’t bear the thought of starting again with a fresh mount. Tonight would be the last go round for them in this little arena. Her nervousness suddenly grew and her eyes watered slightly, a tear escaped and ran down her cheek as she guided Little Bill out into the night preparing to make the turn and the long run towards the starting line.

The announcer’s call was booming around the small arena, kids were cheering and a few of the faithful who actually knew her and Little Bill rose in their seats. The old warrior’s sense of timing didn’t fail him. Almost instantaneously, as her right knee pressed in, he wheeled around as if he had sensed danger and was about to run away from it! Before she could even bring her heels down to his sides to urge him forward, the old warrior exploded into a dead out all for nothing run! The explosiveness of his start caught Sally by surprise and suddenly she sensed that he knew! He was flying!

The crowd roared as the little gelding exploded down the runway and into the brightly lit arena. Almost as soon as his racing, pounding feet hit the sawdust of the arena floor his gaze shifted to the right, spotting the enemy immediately. As his ancestors had done as they raced into battle on the American plains so long ago, his head stretched forward as his body seemed to level into a flying lance with his piercing black eyes gauging the enemy he bore down on. Now Sally was holding on for dear life! Her hands gripped the pommel with white knuckles, as she realized that tonight Little Bill had dug deep and found an old strength of an earlier age.

With his warrior’s heart pounding within him, Little Bill closed the distance in record time. The crowd, now all on their feet, roared as if everyone could sense that tonight a true champion was giving  it one last all out effort! Little Bill’s pivot around the hated enemy was a thing of unusual grace and excellent timing. The shower of sawdust and dirt flew out into the nearby stands as the bottom rows of cheering fans roared even louder at such a show of skill and heart! As if his rider had buried a lance into the hated enemy to finish him, Little Bill’s gaze shifted across the arena to the second challenge.

The little warrior exploded across the ground covering the distance in lightening speed. As the roar from the arena rose to an even higher volume, the mechanics at the local filling station across the highway stopped as one and turned to face the distant roar. “Maybe someone started a fight in the stands,” muttered Wilson, as he turned back to the job at hand. 

Nearing the second barrel, Little Bill snorted deeply clearing the sawdust from his nostrils. With a tight turn, the little warrior angrily launched himself at the remaining distant barrel. Sally, her hair flying, hat now gone, held on tightly.  She rode now leaning forward and low as if her very action would help her old friend in his mighty battle. The crowd roared louder, the bull riders now up on the rails slapping their hats and cheering like they were young children once more. The crowd, the riders, the clowns, all were now a part of the battle! And Little Bill bore down on one last enemy.

Making the turn tightly with sawdust and dirt flying, the little warrior’s eyes seemed like shiny black marbles in a patch of bright white. The saliva flew from his gasping mouth. Suddenly from far across the arena came the sound of a high piercing cry! An old Indian cowboy stood on the top rails of the arena and, caught up in the moment, voiced an ancestral war cry which seemed to reach to the heavens!  Momentarily stunned, the crowd hushed as if a switch had been flipped! Then came the answering whinnying cry of the little warrior and the crowd’s roar returned at full volume. With hats flying high many of the crowd now rushed the arena’s bars, trying to get closer, as if to help the little warrior win his final battle!    Sally gripped hard and now she whispered with tears falling, “You can do it, little man!”

Little Bill exploded forward racing down the straightaway! The time keeper stared at the electronic clock with disbelief. No horse had ever run such a time! The crowd roared with such enthusiasm, that the announcer had to send a runner to call Sally and Little Bill back to the arena. Gracefully, the little warrior trotted back through the wide runway opening into the arena as the crowd stood applauding and cheering. Sally rode Little Bill in a small circle and then with tears and smiles and many a thank you, the little champion and his best friend trotted back into the darkness of the warm Georgia night.  And an old Indian cowboy, his cheeks wet from his tears, looked to the night sky and was thankful. He slowly walked away toward an old worn pickup truck, with a smile on his face.

Clint Bowman

August 2015

Free! Free! Free!

From July 1st through July 3rd (midnight to midnight PCT) my little eBook titled "God's Creation & Christian Responsibility" will be free on Amazon for downloading. I hope it can be useful in starting discussions in your family and/or your social groups, or Bible study groups about how we can all help take better care of our environment. I hope you enjoy it!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00M6ITEQU