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I’m telling you this, because my days alone there have led me
to anticipate another trip later this year, called “Where Nobody Goes.”
~~~
~~~
with the sun not yet
in sight
trees seem wandering in the night
nomadic Hebrews under Joshua
the sun, the trees and me
93 million miles between
trees seem wandering in the night
nomadic Hebrews under Joshua
the sun, the trees and me
93 million miles between
morning is sweeter in the knowledgeof what afternoon will bring ~~~
finding the day pleasant
trees with raised arms
settle into the work
of surviving another day
I walk among them
visitor in a foreign land
nomad among residents
another wild and beautiful
corner of this country
that few humans see
~~~
sunrise illuminates defenses
against enemies I have no fear of
creatures that would bite their flesh
should they wear no thorny armor
and they have no fear of the ones
that would bite into me
if I came unprepared
~~~
on climbing higher
I meet one who so disapproves
of the enemy that
he sports long sturdy spears
to intimidate
and they know
it’s not worth the trouble
I know it too
and tread carefully
among them
~~~
~~~
for their friends
they open wide
with sweet nectar
hoping for reciprocation
with gifts for their children
but a huge lumbering human
offers no pollination
I wonder if she’s disappointed
except perhaps in knowing
that I find her beautiful
~~~
cross-bedded sand
dunes
laid down eons ago
compressed by overlaying sediments
compose part of Zion National Park
I’m far from there in both miles and years
this brown range
posing like a mountain
is Zion Park
in the making
~~~
on the crest of a
dune
a cornice
from which a spray of
windblown sand flies
on another trip
a cold winter place
a similar spray
of windblown snow
I wonder how this phenomenon
might occur on distant planets
~~~
~~~
I lie on my belly
on the edge of a dune
back to the wind, and
study the world of small plants
from ground level
as a snake might see it
they live on moving sand
like ships on a sea
~~~
a river once ran
through it
spawning fish
now a trickle
hatching mosquitoes
I’d like to say it’s climate change
to support a cause I believe in
but years are lush and years are harsh
while overarching all of them
a gradual change threatens
our grandchildren and theirs
why should anyone care?
~~~
~~~
flowing lava cools
its surface
before its lower parts
and as the surface hardens to rock
the inside flows away like water in a pipe
so it was today I walked where
bighorn sheep took refuge from the heat
where afternoon lacks shade and
lunch from a backpack on a lava rock
tastes good as JJ’s Steak House
~~~
Long ago under the sea,
when layers rested flat, they say that coelacanth swam above. Because eons look so short, we see them suddenly
tilted, lifted, become hot and dry with desert cacti. Because we are given minds for science, unimaginable
stories replace believable myth.
~~~
high on the cliff in
a century past
a miner hoped for gold
climbed the rock and built a method
to bring money for his family
geology for him was a road to wealth
for me it brings discussion
of life’s mysteries
~~~
Sometimes we see in
rock
an image of what we’ve seen before
a head carved with a bun in back
a mouth of smug superiority
with eyes to match
as if to show the maker’s preference
for people who ought to rule
while others ought to be ruled
~~~
smooth rocks lean
together
as souls in agreement
members of a tribe
climbing to a destination
do they see an end for which
they have no evidence?
~~~
End of the first blog post
