Pink Fog

audio accompaniment: “44444”

Finally.
We walked in your forest
And were transported
Absorbed
By the language
Spoken between tree and root

To a place 
Found only in the mind.

I stopped to weep.

At the bridge
Tears of joy
Fell into the river.
Drops united
Flowing to the sea
Finding
The great expanse

“We mustn’t stop,
It is forbidden”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“This is my place.”

They were coming for me
Masks revealing only their eyes
I removed my covering
Breathed deep and long

Atom by atom
Evaporating
Into the pink fog

I went for a walk in my favorite forest on Monday. It’s ok to walk, but no stopping? No meditation? No appreciation for the connectedness of nature?
Put me in jail if you must, but I refuse to “visit” a place I call home.

multiple exposure photograph with birds added (manipulation) – I wanted to make a square, but it just wouldn’t work

Lettuce Give Thanks

Today, it will be 90 degrees Fahrenheit. A few weeks ago, it was cool and rainy. So much for the Southern California spring!
Here are 2 minutes of a rainy scene in our garden:

The garden has changed a lot since then. We have many lettuce plants that are doing well. They will want to bolt if it stays hot for too many days in a row.

The photo is a cropped/stitched image of some breakfast radishes from the garden of last year.

They are sometimes bitter
And grow up too fast
But underneath
They really are sweet
And love to blend in

Sorry for the title!

It’s a Big Sky

My daughter
It is good to see you fly

Against the wind
You have learned this skill.
Many have tried
To ground you
Pulling feathers
As they retreat.

Cowards

I am friends with midnight,
Knowing its darkness
Has come for you
And each night
I died many deaths
Knowing the confusion
That was defining your life.

We were helpless
Watching this tragic play.
Yet, not hopeless.
Wings grow strong.
Watching you run
Broad wings strengthened
Lifting our beloved.

Above it you soar.
And those below
Take note.
A measure of pride.
Or, a measure of shame.
Recompense
Of earned scars.


Trail Encounter1

A little hummingbird friend
Watching me from a safe distance

I ask, “How’s the trail today?”
“Grass is making a comeback.
You know how grass is!
Always shows up early to the party.

And tree…
Well you know tree.
He hangs on to leaves
To the bitter end
Here,
Where it is freezing in the morning
And balmy in the afternoons.

Tree,
Is a little confused.
Have a nice walk.”

“Thank you.
Have a nice…
A nice…
Fly.”