a chipmunk’s business
involves a lot of running,
sniffing, and nib’ling
sun on the meadow
gophers trundle underneath
a hillside network
stillness brings nature
curious, oblivious
quiet calming fear
Thank you, readers!
Mountain Haiku
Close Encounter
an apparition
in the space between two trees
a silent beauty
One of the benefits of spending time messing around quietly with a camera is that wildlife isn’t too scared of you! Thanks for reading
Rumble | Haiku
I went for a walk
thunder wanted to come too
he held back the rain
Sometimes the rain is all bark and no bite – thankfully, when you’re a long way from camp and shelter but you also are carrying a bunch of cameras. Thanks for reading!
Mountain Time
In the mountains everything is too much
reading: too much
thinking: definitely over-much
writing: maybe a little
because grasshoppers are buzzing
their tightly patterned bodies
through the meadow
where butterflies are dancing
to the beat a woodpecker drums
down the hill in the pine and aspen forest
who sighs to let us know that the wind
is coming
also because clouds are making
shadow pictures on the side
of the peaks, and bees are
stretching their wings in the sunshine
while chipmunks dart around,
replete with adorableness
everything here is too much
because the place is so much
frazzling concentration quicker
than the weather can change
intention flees like summer
warmth in the shade
and purpose would rather just
roll down the incline in the
alpine grasses all day
My other half can calmly sit and read for hours when we are camping. I found that the view – pictured above – was so distracting I couldn’t concentrate on a thing! Maybe I could write a little, but first thing in the morning the mountain was so full of life that I couldn’t do anything besides pay attention to it. Nature was pulling at my sleeve so much, so I planted myself on the ground in the meadow with a cup of coffee and reveled in the glory of it all, watching and learning. Thank you for reading!
Towards Divide
cloud on the mountain
we swim through the fog like milk
spilled from God’s garden
The road out of Colorado Springs towards Divide, Colorado is a beautiful one that (fortunately) we had seen before. On the day we drove in for the first time this trip, a cloud was sitting on it in spectacular fashion, to where we couldn’t even see stop lights in the distance. It was an interesting experience! Here’s another photo, since I had trouble choosing between the two. . . and as usual, it’s impossible for me to convey with a camera how otherworldly it was. . . .
By the time we got to our campsite, the cloud had lifted and the sun was out. People say the sea is changeable in terms of weather but my goodness the mountains could give her a run for her money if you ask me. Thank you for reading!
Hartley, TX
on the plains
with the grains
and the cattle
ag’s rich battle
for a way of life
free from strife
and city’s urban strangle
out here they wrangle
nature, instead
of traffic’s
supply and demand
out in the field
a ziggurat of hay
grassland’s bounty
spun into towering
bricks of gold
Thank you for reading! Road trip poems continue. . . .
Haiku | Red Dirt
folded, rolling sky
over wide open country
red dirt, golden sun
I don’t feel like this photograph I’ve given you above accurately portrays the landscape, but I don’t know if it’s possible for me to do it justice with ANY camera. I remember that day, the ride down a quiet road through red dirt hills under a changeable sky. We rolled out of Amarillo early and headed northwest. It makes me long to hit the road again! Thanks for reading, y’all.
Haiku (here come the road trip poems)
out at the crossroads
a macaw on a road trip
free bird, pretty boy
We’ve been home a week and I am sorting through what I brought back with me from this year‘s camping road trip. I’ve decided to keep things in chronological order, at least for now… . so here’s a haiku and a polaroid from the first day, one of our first stops. Who expects to see a macaw at a gas station at a crossroads way out in the country? NOT ME! His person was happy for me to photograph him and told me he was on his way to some kind of “free flight” get together with his other macaw friends.
Thank you for reading!
Sunday Tanka
On Sunday morning
everywhere smells of breakfast
eggs, biscuits, bacon
waffles in the cramped lobby
coffee at the gas station
Back home now from our annual summer camping road trip, I’m trying to settle in again, but reading this tanka I wrote on the morning that took us to Colorado makes me long to head out again! Thank you for reading, and happy Sunday, y’all
The Cloud
Written as a tribute to Shelley’s The Cloud on the 200th anniversary of his death
Once I floated with heavy choke
above these plains,
poison laden, a viscous cocktail
of ash and gas
above a boiling sea of rock
My sisters rained to cool its wrath
who responded with a hiss
and a blackening visage
that would capsize if it
could only reach the bay
Land forming, land expanding
hot earth in flux
with violence becoming
a decade of upheaval, spawning offspring
that made clouds of their own
Transformation complete, the mountain
rests, and I, more benign,
bring life instead of death
raining green breath, tied with a bow
that smiles through pointed teeth
Trickster, I float above the
silent mouth in pretend recollection
of what once was
striking with fire at the stone in petulant mood
but mostly I remain a shady memory
of the drama of the past
Recently (July 5th) we visited the Capulin Volcano National Monument, on a whim since we were driving past. It’s a terrific place! I noticed as we left that a cloud was floating above the mountain, obviously *not* a volcanic cloud but a pleasing echo of one; I made a couple of photos with a couple of cameras and we drove on.
When I learned, thanks to The Poetry Society‘s instagram, that it was the 200th anniversary of Shelley’s death, I decided to read “The Cloud“ and write whatever it inspired as a tribute to a wonderful poet who lived an interesting life and died young. Of course the first thing that came to mind was the cloud over Capulin, and yadda yadda yadda, here’s the poem! Thanks for reading!
PS another photo of Capulin, from the truck, and one of Baby Capulin (both digital photographs, made with Canon MarkIII and a Lensbaby Burnside 35 – a lens I adore for both film and digital)
The Poetry Patio 