Through the basin
Wind blows
Summer thunder
In Passing, #41
summer
Breezy Point to Widow Peak, #39
(the closer peak to the right is Lookout Mountain)
1
I am grateful to have him as a hiking companion.
Hiking in from Breezy Point, we find ourselves on the edge of a burn area . The trees are like a black and white photograph, sprouting from the green growth of early summer reaching for the clouds.
In the meadow,
I stumble across
Conversations.
2
After a small rise we begin going down to cross a saddle between Breezy Point and Lookout Mountain. Just past the low point in the saddle, we find water and fill up our water bottles in the shade of the Hemlocks. We begin to cross patches of snow as we ascend Lookout Mountain. Will remembers a spot with a nice view which we easily find. We decide to stop for lunch. It feels good to stop and enjoy the many guests.
3
Walking across Lookout Mountain.
Freeze and thaw,
Fragments cresting…
I watch my step!
4
Coming across the saddle on the other side of Lookout Mountain we are back in the shade of the Hemlocks. There are many prints in the trail of deer and elk. The fragrance of birdsong fills the air. We cross two creeks and a spring. The water coming out of the ground flows cool and fresh!
Following the current,
Summer sun…
Dancing!
4
Arriving at Widow Peak I am am exhausted. My tiredness shows in my efforts to set up the tent and make dinner. It seems like a lot of time goes by before I sit and rest.
Clouds traverse the sky,
Riding the breeze…
Hemlocks waving.
Summer Afternoon, #38
Waving wild grasses
A Summer’s afternoon wind
I stop for a nap!
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.