poetry

Thunder Pass

Thunder Pass

we go to the mountains
to be awed
humbled by all the creations
more beautiful than ourselves
violet-blue delphinium
rose-pink queen’s crown
Snow Lake gleaming blue-grey
in midday sun
midway between summer and fall

we fall hopelessly in love
with big spaces
uncontrollable forces
feeling tiny and peaceful
blissfully letting go
of the illusion of control

we put one foot in front of the other
trusting the path
open to anything
thankful for each wondrous bit
of color light sound being
that passes our way

poetry

a sweet offering

a sweet offering

early July and the trees smell like matches
each cloud is a blessing of shade
and (less likely) possibly rain

today the first wild strawberries are ripe,
ruby packets of pleasure
even the smallest souls can reach –
how can such sweetness come
from sun rain rock air?

and what comparable kindness
might I possibly make
given all the energy poured into me
these 47 years?

poetry

fireweed phenology

fireweed phenology

I don’t know
how two long ladders
of fireweed blossoms
could open all at once

I’m not sure
which is more alarming –
all that unfolding
in a single day

or the chance that yesterday
I failed to notice
the buds’ seams had begun to split
spilling all that fuchsia
into July sun

poetry

solstice eve

solstice eve

today the light still grows longer
spring exhales a last sigh of
cold grey rain
the meadows array themselves
in purple iris, orange wallflower,
golden banner, red paintbrush
blue mist penstemon
hot pink shooting star
readying for tomorrow’s solarbration
the wheel begins to creak and turn
our hearts begin to shift:
how to weather summer’s forge
how to keep calm hearts and attentive minds
when light goes white hot
and the cities burn
how to practice restraint when burning up
and wait like still water
how to have faith in humanity’s
capacity to survive and heal
how to rise up like a storm surge
when our movement is needed
may it be so

poetry

conscious breathing

conscious breathing

Every time you breathe, you exhale some 25 sextillion (that’s 2.5 × 1022) molecules of oxygen – so many that with a day’s breathing you will in all likelihood inhale at least one molecule from the breaths of every person who has ever lived. And every person who lives from now until the sun burns out will from time to time breathe in a bit of you. At the atomic level, we are in a sense eternal.

Bill Bryson, The Body: A Guide for Occupants

breathing in the breath
of every being
that has been
fueled the same way
as despots and saints

breathing out the breath
that will become
part of every being to be
we are not so different
not so separate
not so alone

I take in courage and compassion
send out forgiveness and love
in case you need it

you –
my sons
Rosa the flycatcher patient on her nest
the bright orange wallflower feeding the fritillary
the garter snake sleeping sound under the tree roots
the man who tossed his cigarette butt on the trail today
the unmasked righteous person somewhere in my path
breathing out sentences nobody sees

poetry

standing declaration

Graham’s penstemon photo by Susan Meyer. White-tailed ptarmigan photo by Owen.

standing declaration

Do you believe in a creator
who intends that humans should
act as guardians of creation?

my chest opens
and frozen birds fall out
my lips part
and fuzzy orange tongues
lisp yes yes yes
my hands clench and unclench
in an angry motion like prayer
all signifying
who have we become
when we must swear in a court of law
that we still believe
in the righteousness of compassion
before scientists can do their job?

tonight while sleep stifles me
I’ll do my own work
dreaming of penstemons and ptarmigans
in a paradise devoid of people
where they’re left to sing their own songs
make sun into sugar into flight
just for the pure joy of being
not to do a single ape good

photography

Many, Many Days of Photos!

Somehow, I have managed to find the highlights of the last 10-12 days in only six photos. These range from Bushy-tailed Woodrats to phenomenal sunsets, snow-coated trees to Wild Geraniums. These do not encompass all of our experiences of the past few days, just until the 28th. I will be posting the rest soon!

The sunset on the 29th was spectacular. There was an abundance of clouds that caught the light, forming a wall of gold over the western horizon.
This Wild Geranium was one of many flowers I photographed at Twin Lakes on the 28th.
Woody posed well for me, and did not seemed to mind being the subject of our attentions.
For the first time on the 27th I managed to get photos of Woody, the resident Bushy-tailed Woodrat in the woodshed.
From across the valley it looked like a thin mist had settled on the trees, from their snow-covered appearance.
On the 23rd we had a magnificent snowstorm, which coated the trees and every surface, providing wonderful photography.
photography

Coulson Gulch & Leadville Arrival

A Sand Lily on the trail out of Coulson Gulch
A Delphinium also on the trail out of Coulson Gulch
The trail into Coulson Gulch with a view of the foothills
A weird ice formation off the side of the shed in Leadville
A male Pine Grosbeak in a pine tree in Leadville
A female Pine Grosbeak in the same tree in Leadville