Tag: nature

Moving Forward

 

 

A photograph of a mountain lake reflecting the surrounding mountains

If there’s a Heaven, and assuming that’s where I go, I hope there are:

Bluebird skies to fill my eyes,
Brilliant stars to light the nights,
Unknown trails to touch my feet,
Mountaintops to hope to reach.

Lot’s of trees to fill the forests,
Golden Trout to take my flies,
Sketchy ledges to try to ride,
Good friends to walk beside.

Open spaces just to wander,
No time to waste or squander,
Stiff breezes to nudge me onward,
No false summits to tease me forward.

Silent places to clear my head,
Smells of flowers to fill my nose,
New horizons to give me hope,
Boundless vistas to help me cope.

Solid rock to hold onto,
Cooing doves to listen to,
Flowing rivers to float my boat,
Roaring rapids to hope to float.
.
Massive glaciers to ski across,
Mountain streams to need to cross,
Flat spots to pitch my tent,
Stacks of rocks to block the wind,

Deep crevasses to blow my mind,
Smokeless campfires to warm my spine,
New treasures to try to find,
No good times to leave behind.

Audio Version:

The Constant

 

These days,
In today’s civilized world,
Confusion exists.
In spite of the chaos,
Some positives persist.

So, I head into the wilds,
Where the cactus still bloom.
Fawns take a first step,
And thunderstorms brew.

Buds turn into leaves,
The mountains still call.
Robin eggs hatch,
And river ice thaws.

Dandelions flower,
The Sun rises each day.
Scorpio appears,
And snowdrifts melt away.

Live Oaks shed their leaves,
Meadows turn green.
Hummingbirds show,
And birds start to sing.

Streams fill up with run-off,
Trees blow in the wind.
High trails can be walked,
And there are more peaks to ascend.

Each day is longer,
Herds of Elk scatter.
Bass build their nests,
And the marmots are gladder.

Nighttimes are chilly,
Yet daytimes are warm.
Caterpillars roam,
And Honey Bees swarm.

Agarita’s blossom,
Campfires still smoke.
The Dewberries ripen,
And Prickly Pears poke.

Horizon fills the distance,
Summit views astound.
The wonder of nature,
Is a both a constant and profound.

Continue reading “The Constant”

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

Fetching Water

 

Waiting for the water to boil

I headed to the creek to get a pot full of water.
And tripped on a root on my way back to camp.
I staggered and stumbled but didn’t fall,
Then dropped the pot and spilled it all.

Continue reading “Fetching Water”

Part of the View

 

I climb to a high place,
And savor the view,
So much to see,
My world seems anew.

Ground ripples below
Until it reaches a stream.
That’s flowing along
With water agleam.

Bright shiny reflection,
Small, but intense.
Catches my eye,
Creating suspense.

A big Douglas Fir,
Sways to and fro’.
Seems guarding something,
From what I don’t know.

Squirrel scampers across
A branch to my side.
It notices me,
And begins to chide.

The light moves on,
And the magnificent buck
That’s resting under a pine,
Looks more like a duck.

Out of the forest,
A trail comes forth.
Crosses below
And heads to the north.

Some animal runs,
Its movement a flash.
Then abruptly jumps into
The creek with a splash.

A rock falls from the cliff
Off to my right.
Its crash at the bottom
Creates quite a sight.

Above the horizon,
Beyond what I know,
Big mountains arise,
All capped in snow.

Where clouds meet the ground,
And land becomes sky.
The near disappears,
And far enters my eye.

Then, I realize,
That the things that I see.
Are simple, yet complex,
And all part of me.

Each time I gaze,
At the world all around.
The sights may be different,
But they always astound.

It’s heartening to know,
I have a role in the view.
I’m a cog in the world,
A part of the stew.

So, I stand up and turn,
Then go on my way.
Ready to face,
What comes as it may.

Audio Version:

Seeing the Sunset

The Long Way

 

A Nice Place to Sit

Let’s take the long way back,
And cross the river ‘round the bend.
If our feet get wet,
We can dry ‘em in the wind.

There’s a trail down there
That no one knows about.
And it leads to a fishin’ hole
That’s full of big ‘ole trout.

Since we’ve got our poles,
We can wet a line.
If you don’t have any flies,
You can use some of mine.

Once we’ve had our fill of that
We’ll head into the trees,
To a big red rock
With a view that’ll bring ya’ to your knees.

From there, we’ll keep goin’
‘Till we reach the Highline Trail.
We’ll follow it across the meadow
Where I once got caught by hail.

Just on past that meadow, there’s a gully
Full of berries of some unknown type.
I don’t know much about ‘em,
‘Cept they taste good and should be ripe.

We’ll fill our bellies there
And when we’ve had our fill,
Head into some Aspens
And move on up the hill.

Our path will pass
By old cabins and mines.
And once up high,
There are Bristlecone Pines.

There’s a good sittin’ spot at the top,
Where we can take a break.
No doubt we’ll need to rest when we get there,
Since our legs will surely ache.

Then, we’ll walk along the treeline,
With the treetops down below.
Huge mountains fill that skyline
And the wildflowers steal the show.

As we walk along the tundra,
The lack of noise will astound.
There may be wind, or planes, or talk,
But the silence is profound.

Soon, we’ll reach the spot
Where the trail begins to drop
After passing through black timber,
We’ll reach the valley where we’ll stop.

Another river fills that valley,
And we’ll round another bend.
We’ll wade into the stream
And take the long way once again.

Audio Version:

Base Camp area trails
Passing through the Aspens

Good Senses

Looking into the Copper Canyon backcountry

Starry nights
And faraway lights.
Where storm clouds go
And a wild lightning show.

Above the peak
And the end of the trail.
Crossing a log
And staying out of the bog.

Warm days in winter
And fields full of color.
Snowfall in summer
And a distant drummer.

Intriguingly perched boulders
And birds flying south.
The movements of herds
And undefined words.

Second winds found
And hills lit by the sun.
Uncharted miles
And grandeur that smiles.

Mysterious corners
And faces in logs.
Waves rolling in
And time without end.

Branches all tangled
And stickers that stick.
Why campfires smoke
And cause you to choke.

The bacon that’s cooking
And ants that don’t bite.
Dust Devils on the horizon
And moments that wizen.

Unknown new roads
And scratching an itch.
At the top of the climb
And the future time.

Life fills up your mind
And lights up your path.
So, free your spirit to wander,
There’s so much to ponder.

Audio Version:

A campfire to smell

Showtime

Stars of the show

See the face
In clouds that race
Across the sky
Into your eye.

Feel the touch
Of ground and such.
Of rocks and sand
And unknown land.

Hear the quiet
Of ants that riot,
Rocks that hum,
And falling crumb.

Smell the rain,
The ripened grain,
Unbridled mare,
And newborn air.

Taste the dust
And gulp the gust.
Drink dripping ice.
Make dirt your spice.

Chew the fat.
Watch the gnat.
Touch the grime,
And yucky slime.

Feed the campfire,
Avoid the briar,
Ski the scree,
Don’t squish a flea

Sit and ponder,
Look and wander.
Always more to know
In nature’s show.

Audio Version:

Waterfall on the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie

Rich

backpacker walking down a dirt road in the mountains with the Aspen trees turninggolden.

Count your wealth
In soaring trees,
Dunes of sand,
And sprawling seas.

In Limestone rocks,
Granite faces,
Grassy meadows,
And open spaces.

In thorny cactus,
Whitetail Deer,
Rolling plains,
And rivers clear.

In moonlit nights,
Gentle snows,
Trails of dirt,
And cawing crows.

In Bison herds,
Buzzing bees,
Starry nights,
And cooling breeze.

In boulder fields,
First raindrops,
Boggy creeks,
And mountain tops.

In waterfalls,
Cedar breaks,
Grizzly Bears.
And big snowflakes.

In gurgling springs,
Hungry snakes,
Wild raspberries,
And alpine lakes.

In Aspen groves,
Wild mountain honey.
Spring wildflowers,
And days all sunny.

In vast pine forests,
Pecan bottoms,
Briar patches,
And colorful autumns.

So count your blessings
Not your gold.
Nature’s rich,
“Look, behold.”

Audio Version:

Boquillas Canyon on the Rio Grande

 

Dancing to Beyond

Two sorts of trails

Wander with intent
And dance with the winds.

They’ll lead you down the trail
To a place where life transcends.

Feel the ground beneath your feet
As you twirl and whirl and swirl.

Move into unknown spaces,
See nature’s light unfurl.

Hear the heartbeat as it rumbles,
Feel the rhythm throbbing sweetly.

Smell the roses in their glory,
Pass the moments indiscreetly.

Go where the breezes take you,
Let your limits fall behind.

Be a whirlwind marching onward
Full of pureness unrefined.

Turn loose of what constrains you
As you enter what’s ahead.

Then marvel at where you’ve gone
And at the place your path has led.

Audio Version:

Backpacking