To my beloved Nightingale,
Thank you so much for your previous letter. I keep it with me at all times in my breast pocket and read it several times a day. Your sweet words give me strength I need to face the day before me. It is so wonderful to hear about the comings and goings from back home! In the midst of all the pain I see around me, it's such a blessing to know that the war has not touched every place. It also gladdens my heart to hear of your mother and her recovery, may God heal your afflictions and bring you as much peace as He has brought our family in years past!
Our company will be moving from our current encampment within the next two days; and during the day the entire camp is bustling with the movements of men as they pack the supplies and prepare for the long march ahead of us. However, as I write to you now at twilight the sounds of frogs in the woods, and the distant tones of a guitar on the other side of the ridge drift through the air. I can hear the heavy breathing of men as they sleep. Some dream while others do not. But the camp is always alive, even in the dead of night, I can only begin to imagine every whimsy that walks these streets and lanes during the heat of day and peace of night.
My bunk mate has proved to be an excellent fellow so far. I had entered a few light skirmishes with his company previous to the current campaign, and he had always struck me as a rather clever fellow, if not a unique one. That's turned out to be exactly what he is. He spurs me on to action in ways I hadn't thought of before, quite a charming fellow who gives himself fully to the duties around him. I'm honored to have him around. When we're out amongst the other soldiers, I constantly find myself looking for others like him, often praying that each man will simply remember what they forgot they once knew.
A humming bird watched me from behind as I cleaned my boots today! It was probably the most peaceful thing I've had the privilege of seeing in a while. I have been spending the past few mornings waking earlier than usual to full fill duties assigned to me by the Colonel himself. I'll tell you it's not the most pleasant of tasks to be down in the trenches, clearing the paths and making room for incoming troops. Down there one becomes close friends with his shovel for the other men are not much for conversation. However, as I wiped the grime from my brogans, I couldn't help but wonder if the small creature flitting behind me had seen you as he traveled through the air. Surely she had passed by your house on her way out to greet me. It was just another one of the ever present reminders that the number of miles in between you and I and have not ceased to grow since I left.
It's strange, my dearest, when walk the streets at night thinking of you, I can picture your face and I can see it clearly. Every edge is outlined so sweetly as the sun glints off your skin. Your lips curl back in a soft smile as you are about to speak...
I just wish I knew who you are.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwuLm1HPpSY
"I get so distracted by some people's reactions that I don't see my own faults for what they are. At times it's so self destructive, with no intent or motive, but behind this emotion, there lies a sensible heart..."
