poetry

getting your feet wet

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getting your feet wet

hiking I would totter
from tiny rock to tippy log
desperately trying to keep warm and dry
arms flailing
inevitably ending up
in the drink

but jogging here
in the meltwater mudseason days
there’s no way around it
gotta go through it
let the cold soggy seep in
then run your body warm

striding through the rushing
asphalt-path-turned-beaver-dam-outlet
there’s a shivery freedom
to not turning around
a satisfying slap and splash
to each saturated stride
we keep going together
fortified by mud

travelogue

El Capitan Lodge Tour

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El Capitan Lodge

In this video, Owen gives a guided tour of our off-grid VRBO rental located up at 10,500 feet near Tennessee Pass between Leadville and Minturn, Colorado – our home for six weeks. The owners gave us a great deal on a long-term rental, and we are loving the cozy design, amazing views, and abundant wildlife. It’s been a great home base to slow down and watch spring creep up the mountains.

Alex pointed out I should have shot this video landscape- instead of portrait-style. Live and learn…

poetry

recipe

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recipe

not sugar and spice –
stuff of plantations
exploitation
tropical malaise –

I’m more made of
emerald moss and fiddlehead ferns
nodding jewelweed and shy trilliums
pliant giant kelp and playful otter fur
moonlight and starshine and lightning
crisp wintergreen and warm raspberries
quiet may apples and brisk creek water
brilliant wood lilies and half-closed gentians
retreating seafoam and irrepresible crane cries

I’m not so sweet –
more made from the must
of shale clay and duff
seasoned with ocean salt
scented with woodsmoke –
unable to be
otherwise

poetry

making a memory

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making a memory

when can we get apple pie again?
he asks wistfully
we can make apple pie
I say
we can? when?
we have everything we need
I say
how about tomorrow?

friends ask
what are you looking forward to most?
and when I say
slowing down
they’re puzzled –
it’s not the destination they expected

I’m looking forward to
taking the butter out
measuring the flour
letting him squish it all in his fists
taking our time while the dough
firms in the fridge

I’m going to enjoy
watching him hold the knife
and carefully turn apples white
then slice them thin

I will breathe in cinnamon
and hear the rough scrape of sugar
as the apples turn to flat leaves
of gooey brown

then we’ll roll out the dough
mound up the spiced fruit inside
deliberate about a pattern for the top
seal it all
and bake it to steaming

and the warm pride of making something sweet
won’t be a distant glow for him –
he’ll have tomorrow’s hot homemade pie
forever
or as close as our fallible minds allow

photography

Chipmunks, Chickadees, Chiming Bells (and hummingbirds)

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Yesterday we realized that the Mountain Chickadees have almost definitely taken up residence in the house on the deck. They may not yet have chicks, but we have observed them frequently flying into the hole, staying there for a minute, and exiting. They do this quite commonly even when we are having lunch on the deck, only several feet away! The hummingbirds have also put in many appearances at the feeder, and also visit while we are sitting there. With such close proximity, I have been able to get several good photos of both chickadees and hummingbirds. While watching the chickadees and hummingbirds, a small chipmunk made an appearance on a log below the deck. We also went on a short walk where we found several flowering Chiming Bells. I was able to get some close-ups of these, which was easy as they don’t fly away immediately. Here they are!

The chickadees commonly flew up to the nest hole, although we did not see them carrying anything.
Before entering the hole, the chickadees would often look around several times, as if making sure that no one knew about their nest.
After these procedures were accomplished, the chickadee would then enter the nest and stay inside for around 30 seconds.
Only very rarely did the chickadees pause before leaving; they would normally exit on the wing without pausing.
Several times, the chickadees and the hummingbirds would both be visiting their respective places at the same time, and the chickadee would chase off the hummingbird and attack it, presumably defending its nest.
The hummingbird would often perch to feed, yet it would sometimes hover, and would quickly transition between the two.
The chipmunk stayed in one place for a while, allowing me to get good photos. It was eating something, but we could not identify the food.
The Chiming Bells are some of the first wildflowers to be seen up here, and are quite beautiful.
Some clumps of Chiming Bells are bigger than others; this was an especially large bloom.
poetry

closure

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closure

beat your swords into plowshares
Isaiah says
in Colorado it’s different

first, poison the land while smelting your swords
so no person may call it home
then wait
for the weapon of choice to change
the killing to grow more efficient
the boom to bust
and the other beings to return

the hooved and winged and furred folk
don’t know about sarin gas
or plutonium’s halflife
they see only a quiet open space to be

today we pile out at Camp Hale
a fairly upbeat installation
known for fresh-faced skier boys
and I’m not thinking of death

the kids skitter off down the dirt road
and I stop at the sign
eyeing a closure
wondering what wildlife
we might be lucky enough to see

but it’s not like that
ASBESTOS
no human entry
human health closure
they’re too far to call back
and I’m not positive
where we are on the map

the whole area’s off-limits
to off-trail use, too
and when the beavers’ handiwork
forces us off the asphalt
I wonder –
unexploded ordnance?

I hold my breath
not knowing what safe looks like here
cursing the military-industrial complex
feeling conflicted about these
contaminated but public lands,
like Rocky Mountain Arsenal
and Rocky Flats
with their innocent burrowing owls
and elegant jumping mice
still greenwashing the worst of our nature

I don’t want plowshares left even
I just want to beat all those swords
to dust
proxies for the men who profit from them

mostly I want to stop worrying about where we step
and what we might breathe
just recklessly take in this blue sky
and bands of white clouds
without having to think
about the terrible things
we do to our own