Category: Curiosity

Jane

 

 

For Jane Ragsdale of Camp Heart O’ the Hills, 1957-2025

I cannot say
That Jane went away,
In the big Flood of ‘25-
Because:
Her smile survives,
I see her sparkling eyes,
The sun is shining brighter,
Good is winning,
Birds are listening,
Things keep improving,
I look before leaping,
People sing more and talk less,
Questions have answers,
Challenges are met without regret,
Foes sit down and discuss,
And life keeps getting better.

Whatever the case,
It’s good to know that her heart will always be home,
Because her home will always be The Heart.

———————————

Audio:

Out the Door

 

Soaking it all in

Adventure calls,
An hour awaits.
What will I see?
What are my fates?

So, I walk through the doorway
And into the woods.
With no trail to walk on,
I follow the coulds.

Right off the bat,
Post Oaks and vines,
Along with some Greenbriers,
Mix with the pines.

At first, I feel limits
To where I can go.
Then push through a tangle,
And go with the flow.

Once out of the thicket,
A meadow appears.
A grazing deer stops,
And perks up its ears.

Though free of confinement,
I stop in my tracks,
Eager to see,
Just how it reacts.

Despite my quiet efforts,
It scampers away.
Just why that happened,
I simply can’t say.

So, I move on ahead,
Across open terrain.
The ground would’ve been solid,
Except for the rain.

My boots become wet
And the dirt turns to mud.
My feet are soon covered
With masses of crud.

I turn to my right
Toward higher ground.
I’m hoping for dryness,
But none can be found.

After walking 5 minutes,
I top a small rise.
Then suddenly before me,
–a pleasant surprise.

A field of wild Raspberries,
Is blocking my route.
And I can see by their color,
That they’re ripe without doubt.

I fill up on berries,
Then emerge near a creek.
I follow the bank,
A dry crossing, I seek.

Around a curve in the creek,
A log bridges the stream.
I get halfway across
Then it breaks, and I scream.

Into the water,
I fall with a thud.
It’s not all that deep,
But there’s plenty of mud.

I move on across,
Then, climb out at the shore.
I’m nasty and wet,
And cold to the core.

Glad to be out,
I sit down on a log.
And that’s when I’m greeted,
By a sick-looking dog.

I look for its owner,
But no one is near.
That the poor pooch is hungry,
Seems to be clear.

I give it my snack,
And it eats it up quick.
Then it chews on some grass,
And picks up a stick.

It sits down beside me
And we both shut our eyes.
But are soon startled to action
By shrieking and cries.

Something’s distressed
I quickly conclude.
We run toward the noise,
And arrive at a feud.

Two birds are fighting
Over a morsel of food.
I stop in my tracks,
But the dog can’t be subdued.

It goes in on attack
But the prey easily escape.
The dog feasts on the morsel
Which puts an end to the scrape.

I get back to my walk
And the dog follows my lead.
But I have no clue where I am,
I’m lost I concede.

I was full of questions.
Should I go right?
Turn to the left?
Or just go where I might?

But then I look up,
And there in the trees
My cabin awaits
Which puts me at ease.

How did I get back here?
I wonder in vain.
I almost turned back,
Have I gone insane?

We walk to the cabin
I don’t know where I’ve been.
But I’m glad to be back
And I’ll take the win.

I ponder the pooch,
The berries, and creek.
The mud, and the cold,
The adventures I seek.

Whether it’s for minutes
Or days without end.
I cherish those moments,
That lead ‘round a bend.

Audio Version:

Livin’ and Learnin’

 

 

 

 

Messin’ with a Red Ant,
Drawin’ pictures in the dirt,
Swattin’ at a gnat,
And takin’ off my shirt.

Lookin’ at a cloud,
Whistlin’ out of tune,
Thinkin’ about tomorrow,
And wonderin’ if it’s noon.

Damin’ up the creek,
Wishin’ for a flood,
Hopin’ for dessert,
And playin’ in the mud.

Watchin’ buzzards soar,
Freezin’ in the snow.
Trippin’ on a root,
And seein’ what’s below.

Hammerin’ rocks together,
Tastin’ leaves and grass,
Livin’ in the moment,
And sittin’ on my ass.

Hearin’ Coyotes yippin’,
Puttin’ band-aids on my knee,
Tastin’ Honeysuckle,
And fightin’ with a tree,

Crossin’ on a log,
Bangin’ with a stick,
Gettin’ stung by wasps,
And feelin’ kinda sick.

Laughin’ at the squirrels,
Swimmin’ with the Perch,
Dryin’ in the Sun,
And headin’ off to search.

Burnin’ up the daylight,
Avoidin’ all the Ticks,
Yellin’ cause I can,
And fiddlin’ with some sticks.
Screamin’ at a boulder,
Listenin’ to the day,
Runnin’ from a bug,
And ponderin’ what to say.

Walkin’ without shoes,
Forgettin’ things I know,
Rememberin’ what just happened,
And rowin’ with the flow.

Drinkin’ from a pond,
Witchin’ with a stick,
Rollin’ down the hill,
And floatin’ in the crick.

Climbin’ on a mountain,
Raisin’ up the sail,
Breathin’ in the air,
And followin’ a new trail.

Leanin’ on a tree,
Ponderin’ sticker burrs,
Rattlin’ the bushes,
And screamin’ if it stirs.

Soakin’ up the mornin’,
Celebratin’ what went right,
Smellin’ all the roses,
Not frettin’ about the night.

Fillin’ up the moments,
Soakin’ in the day,
Savorin’ ‘round the corner,
Goin’ where I may.

Audio File:

A ba backpacking cooking group prepares a mealroup
Supper

Acapulco

 

A city of possibilities

During the Christmas break of my junior year in high school, it was time to go to Mexico and the beach again. I’d gone to Guaymas the previous year and was eager to do something similar again. Mexico was a big place, as far as I was concerned, and I’d just gone to one little piece of it on that trip. Once again, I was excited by the possibilities and the vast array of destination options.

Continue reading “Acapulco”

Simba

 

Sunset

Glad you’re out roamin’
My long-haired friend.
Goin’ places unknown,
And free as the wind.

Dodgin’ cactus and drop-offs
And relishin’ sun.
Lookin’ for shelter
And somewhere to run.

Explorin’ each instant,
Feelin’ the pain,
Searchin’ for supper,
And hidin’ from rain.

Sneakin’ past snakes
Always findin’ your way.
Sleepin’ up high
So as not to be prey.

Stayin’ cool in the heat
And warm in the cold.
Chasin’ wild crickets
And runnin’ from old.

Nappin’ on walls,
And heedin’ all warnins’,
Enjoyin’ the moments,
And smellin’ the mornins’.

Recollectin’ the past
Always thinkin’ ahead.
Takin’ what comes
With no thoughts of dread.

A little bit wild
Savvy and smart.
With good instincts
And cunning that set you apart

Some labeled you
Simply a feral cat.
But there’s more to your story
Than only just that:

Wanderin’ the world
Explorin’ new lands.
Livin’ the present
While meetin’ demands.

With the odds stacked against you
You’ve done more than survive.
A lifetime of learning
Has caused you to thrive.

Always eager to see
What the next day would bring.
You managed to live
In perpetual spring.

The big lessons I learned
From the times that we shared.
Is to bask in the present
While remainin’ prepared.

Audio Version:

Tarahumara house in Copper Canyon, Mexico

Outside the Doors, Nature Scores

 

Colorado mountains
Miles and Miles of Wild

Drizzly days
And hilltop haze.
Northern Lights
And starry nights.

Soggy trails
And empty sails.
Mountaintops
And hurt that stops.

Fields of flowers
And meteor showers.
Desert sands
And barren lands.

Paths aplenty
And options many.
Frozen hands
And fouled up plans.

Horrid heat
And driving sleet.
Summit hopes
And gentle slopes.

Thirst unquenched
And clothes all drenched.
Grazing herds
And flocks of birds.

Gentle breeze
And massive trees.
Blowing gales
And monster tales.

Wild Strawberries
And pristine prairies.
Foot stuck in mud
And massive flood.

Thorny shrubs
And a boot that rubs.
A swimming Otter
And fresh running water.

Deep snow on ridges
And rotten bridges.
Double rainbows
And grassy meadows.

Warm sunshine
And stars align.
Runout cracks
And big bear tracks.

Possibilities many
And thoughts of plenty.
No food or drink
And skunks that stink.

Butterflies
And stormy skies.
Hornet stings
And Condor wings.

Times of wonder
And times of thunder.
Wobbly fawns
And rainy dawns.

Squirrels at play
And birds of prey.
Rose hip tea
And churning sea.

Majestic views
And trails you lose.
Grand waterfalls
And sheer cliff walls.

Warming fire
And prickly briar.
Red sunsets
And route regrets.

Blue noontime sky
And dust in eye.
Lost, then found
And a cracking sound.

Unseen growls
And hooting owls.
Joyous hoots
And slippery roots.

Thank-god Holds
And summer colds.
Scree to ski
And crashing tree.

Moonlight glow
And blowing snow.
Horny Toads
And unneeded roads.

Times of glitch
And times of rich.
Times of pain
And times of gain.

Outside the door
There’s lots of or.
There’s good and bad.
And happy and sad.

So,
Embrace the rhymes
And engage the times.

———————————————————–

Audio Version:

Clearing in the West

Harmonizing

Soaking it all in

Kick back and feel the moment,
Hear the music in the air.
Nature’s harmonizing,
Its sound is everywhere.

To the west, there’s thunder rumbling,
Down below a river roars.
Across the way, a wolf is howling,
While an eagle loudly soars.

In the forest tree trunks groan,
An unseen tree falls with a whack,
Footsteps walk an unknown trail,
And branches bend and loudly crack.

A fish splashes in the creek,
And rockfall echoes from the cirque.
Busy Beavers slap the water,
As they go about their work.

To the west, a coyote yips,
While staying just beyond your reach.
Raindrops pelt the leaves above,
Where two big Buzzards sit and screech.

On the ridge the north wind whistles,
As it blows between the rocks.
In the marsh, the frogs are croaking,
And they sound like ticking clocks.

What you hear is quite compelling,
But what you don’t is more profound.
So, close your eyes and listen hard,
To both the silence and the sound.

Audio Version:

 

So Much to Hear

Stranger on the Trail

 

The Tarryall Mountains

He yelled to us to stop, from out of nowhere, it seemed. It was startling, and one of the last things on my mind, as I led the group of 9 teenage backpackers down the trail, headed back to our Base Camp facility after a week out in the Lost Creek Wilderness. We’d be back in less than an hour except for whatever was about to happen. He was ragged-looking, probably in his 40s, had a Pit Bull by his side, and, thankfully, kept his distance across a dry wash.

Continue reading “Stranger on the Trail”

Crevasses on the Ruth- Revisited

 

The Vastness of a Glacier

Since I outweighed Quentin by 60 or so pounds, I was confident I could hold him if he broke through the ice and fell into a crevasse.

There was no doubt that a bunch of those often-bottomless glacier cracks known as crevasses were running beneath us. But most were hidden from view beneath thin layers of the snow and ice of the Ruth Glacier. The situation had me on edge. Even though probing the route as we moved along was tedious, it was especially imperative since it was June and the surrounding world of ice was thawing rather than freezing. Undoubtedly, a huge crevasse field was hidden below us. But we were hoping to find a relatively safe way across it to get our whole group up onto the ridge above.

Continue reading “Crevasses on the Ruth- Revisited”

Naked Backpacking, Revisited

 

Backpacking

Our OWA group was backpacking on the Big Island of Hawaii along the Mulawai Trail. The first night out, we camped in Waipio Canyon. The next day, we headed toward Waimanu Canyon and stopped for the night on a rustic camping platform provided by the state Division of Forestry and Wildlife. The shelter was conveniently located on a mountaintop within a day’s walking distance of the trailhead and was a welcome sight after our long and hot climb through the jungle and up the Z Switchbacks. We reached the elevated platform in the middle of the afternoon, and since there was still plenty of daylight and because we were all physically drained, everyone picked a spot and stretched out on the shaded, relatively clean plywood for a quick nap before setting up camp for the night. As I dozed off, I thought contentedly of gentle breezes, juicy Lilikoi fruit, and thick clouds.

Continue reading “Naked Backpacking, Revisited”