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Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings...

A topic has been coming to mind for the past several weeks; paradoxically, from all directions: hope.

Now here it is again. There's a movie reference for all occasions, and you're always just the one to find it.

That's the reason I hope you might appreciate the connection here to...

... one in particular. It's got a long rock wall with a big oak tree at the North End -- it's like something out of a Robert Frost poem.

Only which one [in particular]? Andy didn't say. Speculation on the internet [for what King meant] goes in the direction of certain poems about trees or walls, or that the description was simply intended to provide a general visual.

The subject got my attention because the dialog points in the direction of Hope, which is the town directly "up there" from the reference point of the conceptual Shawshank prison: the old Maine State Prison in Thomas-ton. It was closed in 2002, but the Showroom survives to this day (358 Main Street, Thomas-ton).

The town of Buxton is down by Portland, but the place name means a bowing stone -- the type set atop a dolman-type grave.

And if you go up to Hope, there's one cemetery in particular. Hope Grove Cemetery. As seen on Street View, there's a large oak tree at the north end -- across the street at address 69.

The imaging next to the mailbox includes a cloning effect on the stone adjacent to (right of) the smooth, reddish 'cornerstone' that stands out from the others in the new, evolving garden project. It gives the effect of "77" horizontally, or of two vertical 70s next to each other, the "0" of the 70(s) being an upside-down heart.

Now, by turning 180 [to face the cemetery and its sign], a red gravestone simply marked BUCK appears. It's not in the style of the others. Different color, too. Can't miss it.

A red Buck's stone, literally. Located in Hope, at the north end of Hope Grove Cemetery where there's a big oak tree at the end of a long rock wall.

To its right are a few markers from the True family line.

"Red, do me a favor..."

It turns out that Orrie died on Nissan 10, when

"As they approached the Jordan with the Holy Ark carried by the Kohanim (priests) in their lead, the river parted for them, as the waters of the Red Sea had split when their fathers and mothers marched out of Egypt 40 years earlier. (Joshua 4)"

As for the identity of the Robert Frost poem, we know what Kris Kristofferson wrote, and also testified repeatedly in front of great clouds of witnesses, that The Pilgrim (in Chapter 33) took ever' wrong direction on his lonely way back home. ("He's a lyre!")

In a Disused Graveyard
BY ROBERT FROST
The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never any more the dead.
The verses in it say and say:
'The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay.'
So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can't help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?
It would be easy to be clever
And tell the stones: Men hate to die
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor ever eagle flew --
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Genesis 32:30 And Jacob called the name of the place Peniel: for I have seen God face to face, and my life [nefesh, soul] is preserved.

Genesis, Chapter 33:

1 And Jacob lifted up his eyes, and looked, and, behold, Esau came...

Coming out red all over, like an hairy garment.

A problem when he's stoned. He's a walking contradiction. Partly true, but mostly fiction. ("He's a lyre!")

Imagine the trouble when he sobers up! A destroyer of all known worlds,

wearing yesterday's misfortunes like a smile..

(Thanks Kris! You really could Kraft the best narratives! The going up was worth the coming down.)

I wonder when folks will be able to wake up the next day to stop shrinking from their own shadows and be able to laugh finally, upon the realization that just as Phil had informed Phil, "it's not personal, it's just a game."

In my personal opinion, it'd be the worst kind of humiliation for the PTB, should it be revealed that the one who actually took his mission seriously -- the mission to gather all of the sparks that were scattered about this dark, Godless world -- was that Wicked Esau, by taking ever' wrong direction, on his lonely way back home.

There's always hope, because you know what they say,

"God Bless America!"

🏃‍♀️. . . . .

And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas – and God bless all of you, all of you on the good Earth.

~ Frank Borman