Timber Jones

November in Mind

By: Timber Jones On the porch, the rocking chairs are moving in the chilly breeze.  In the kitchen, pork chops are being cooked…the benefits of a bountiful harvest.  Through the window, some of the leaves have turned to that rusty shade of red that I enjoy so much.  Seasoned wood is stacked in the woodshed,…

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Weathered and Gray

By: Timber Jones The toughest folks I’ve known are weathered and gray.  That’s just the way it is.  They are seasoned men and women who stand against the storms, the wind, and the rain.  They’ve been struck hard in the side by the lightning of life.  They stand alone amongst the younger, greener trees of…

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Sharp Enough to Use

Sharp Enough to Use By: Timber Jones It would appear that my entire life has led me to a little window.  Allow me to explain…. You see, I was born on a cold day, about 20°.  Instead of my mama wrapping me in a blue baby blanket, she placed me in a buffalo plaid flannel. …

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This American Country

By Timber Jones We came from overseas, To worship and live free. Ah, The Mountains! Ah, The Trees! We planted all of our seeds; We sowed them prayerfully. We made “an appeal to Heaven” And saw all we could see. This kind of liberty, It ain’t free. With axe in hand  And plow at the…

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Days Like This

By Timber Jones It is easy to sit here on the back porch on days like this, days when the wind blows strong and carries with it random thoughts that are gone as quickly as they come. Raindrops tap unevenly on the metal roof of the cabin. A bright red cardinal tries his level best…

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A Good Day’s Work

By Timber Jones There was a time in my life when I needed to get out of the work I had been doing for the past 18 years. It was no longer the job I felt I should be in and I wanted something new. This brought me to a place in the old Ozark…

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The Willow and the Oak

By Timber Jones My life has been built on hard times. I am all too familiar with the deep woods of life. Rock bottom is a whole lot further down than some folks think, but for me it was so low that no one could or wanted to reach down to help me anymore. There…

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The Legend of Jack Evergreen, as recalled by Timber Jones

High in the north woods of the Yukon there lives a great lumberjack by the name of Jack Evergreen.  He lives alone in a log cabin that his great-grandfather built many years ago.  Smoke always pours out of the chimney as it is very cold where Jack lives.  Inside the cabin is only a bed,…

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 The Ringing of My Axe

By Timber Jones In the fall of the year, my lumberjack soul awakens. For the next six months, my chores revolve around the felling, limbing, and bucking of trees. It all begins in the evening within the walls of my shop. By the glow of lantern light I take grindstone in hand and sharpen my…

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This Is My Ozarks

By Timber Joseph Jones I grew up on a river at the foot of a mountain in the Hudson Highlands.  As the river wound around the mountains and out of sight, I often wondered where it flowed.  It was here that the seeds of a searching spirit were sowed.  Although I didn’t know yet what…

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