Like an over-filled brush
the mower drips cut grasses
on an empty page
Page 21,841, #88
spring
Mid April, #87
I spent the last week quietly: off of the computer, no pencil and paper, email or reading.
My schedule allowed me to walk in the early morning and late evening.
I did take pictures quietly in the cool morning and warm evenings.
Below is a photograph from each day.
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Along the Creek, #86
In the midday sun
crossing the Prairie Willow
the glow of her steps
Late March – Early April, #85
1.
Their beautiful glow –
golden Crocus pedals closed
in bitter spring winds
2.
3.
I lie on the lawn
bees buzz flower to flower
-sky of shooting stars
Tree, #84
A water splashing
the sound of a fallen tree
ripples in blue sky
In the Arboretum II – Blooms, #83
1.
I enter the arboretum wondering what blooms will be out today. There are a few clouds on this cool day, yet our warmest of spring .
I approach a family, the parents are in no rush to exit. The children are running and laughing under the bare branches. They stomp then wonder at their footprints in the remnants of an early morning snow in the dappled light.
Pools of grief and joy
well in afternoon green buds
early spring snowmelt
2.
I pass two people. Their voices mix with the chatting of squirrels and the chirping of birds. One has a pair of binoculars hanging from their neck. We share a “Hello.”
After they pass by, I hear a sound. Looking over, I see an empty tree branch waving.
Floating Lenten Rose
blooming in the garden bed
a passing spring cloud
3.
Close to the exit, I approach one of the pair I had passed earlier.
I blurt out, “Did you lose someone?” They laugh and look back the way they came saying , “No, they went that way.”
Day after winter
February Daphne blooms
Its fragrance lingers
Wednesday morning, #82
In the low clouds gap
floats an edge of a mountain,
quarter of a moon
Mid March, #81
1.
Afternoon spring winds
waft through an open window,
sweep northern shadows
2.
3.
First steps of the day
out the window crocus blooms
the old oak floor creaks
Late November, #58
1
An autumn day’s work
pruning for spring blossoms…
unveils last spring’s gems
2
Reflections of passers by
pause on a leaf
in autumn raindrops
3
Ancient winds
sing this autumn day
in the pines
Excerpts from a Tour of Idaho, #35
1
I arrive in McCall greeted by unseasonably cool and wet weather and meet the Camp Director. He apologizes for an empty camp and the rain, both not ideal for our reason for being here. The empty camp was expected because of COVID. The weather, which started as a dry and hot spring has turned into a wetter and cooler one. It is decided to make the most of it by taking a few photos around camp then making our way to the marsh. After hiking a ways in the marsh, the rain is coming down harder and I find a place to rest in the company of a large boulder poking through the brush and a single stem of small yellow flowers.
Rain on the marsh pond…
Its fragrance soaks the forest,
Dripping from the pines
2
The Hotel in Idaho Falls is very crowded. There is a softball tournament happening this weekend! I like baseball in all forms and it is fun to see the gear and the excitement of the young players. However, a nervousness prevails at the lack of physical distancing in the hotel hallways as I am thrust into an energetic mask-less crowd.
Faintly seeing through
The dusty hotel window…
The bird’s morning song.
3
In Tetonia, a person I met at the facility guides us to a nice spot on the edge of the canyon above the Teton River. In the distance, the Grand Tetons rise into the clouds. It was a good start to our visit at this location; to see a favorite spot of someone who, when asked, “Where are you from?” answered, “Just down the road.” It struck me that someone could spend their entire life in one place and be content. It felt to me the landscape was part of him and he part of the landscape.
In the summer sun…
The ancient basalt surfaces,
Whispering their tales.
4
A drive through the Salmon River Canyon from Stanley to Salmon:
The humming of tires,
Fading into the spectrum…
Canyon’s evening light.
5
Arriving in Salmon the streets are empty. It is after dinner and the summer sun is shining late on the longest day of the year. I stop and ask directions to the Stagecoach Inn. Two patrons keeping their physical distance banter back and forth until they are sure of its location. I am grateful for their kindness and find the hotel easily. I inquire about a riverside room and am awarded one because it is a slow night. Another reason to be grateful! I unpack some food and sit on the balcony over looking the grassy shore and the Salmon River. A man wearing a protective mask walks his dog to river’s edge and for a moment they both stand in the rushing river’s silence.
I wake early and returning to the balcony, enjoy a warm breakfast in the cool morning air.
Over the mountains,
Peaks the morning summer sun,
Dancing with the leaves!
6
On the last day of the journey I drive through rain along the Clearwater River. It the first rain since day one in McCall. The fog rising from the river and skirting the mountain ridges reflects the evening sun. This has a settling effect after a week of many miles and long days. Arriving home I am too tired to do much else but sleep. In the morning I wake up early and smile.
Striking its own chord…
In rhythm with weed eaters…
Cricket’s morning song.