About a Bird

I Tell Stories

I find it hilarious when people emphasise a silent “N” in a word. 


“Solitude with God repairs the damage done by the fret and noise and clamor of the world.”

—   Oswald Chambers (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: themountainlaurel, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)


Robert Farkas

small eye smokebird


If you have been following me for a length of time you’ve probably picked up that I’m restless. I’ve got a knack for staying in one place no longer than a few seasons.
This aspect of character has many people asking me:
“Are you not happy where you are?”

Well, that’s not really the right question. I make a point to be happy wherever I am. No matter where you are, sometimes life will suck. That’s just the truth of it. But life will always carry happiness for those who look for it. However, all that said. I’ll admit that I do get a certain amount of joy from changing skies.

But the older I get, the more I’m realizing that there are some beautiful gifts of life that only come to those who stay around long enough for them to bloom. I’m realizing that I don’t know what it feels like to be, well, fully rooted.
Sure there are have been places I have tethered myself to. Places I will constantly be pulled to, will love, no matter where I am. But I’ve never landed somewhere without the intention of leaving later.

Maybe it’s time to change that.

A Novel by Me

Did I just fold my laundry or did I actually put it away?
Oh I just folded it.
Ah, Me!

The End

A good story is one that leaves the listener with a new favorite memory. Even though the memory is of something they never experienced.

“Thus it was that three students made their slightly erratic way back to the University. See them as they go, weaving only slightly. It is quiet, and when the belling tower strikes the late hour, it doesn’t break the silence so much as it underpins it. The crickets, too, respect the silence. Their calls are like careful stitches in its fabric, almost too small to be seen.”


untitled // by me