Mt. Percival and Mt. Morgen in Spring

dsc04518 Delicate newness,

Freshly springing from the trees,

Shivering alive.   dsc04546

Littlest creature,

Resting on the sloped granite,

Where will you go next?

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Surprising bold life,

Even on the mountain top,

Never to be stopped.

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Sweet and supple buds,

Stretching and yawning awake,

We missed you so much.

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Stacked rocking ladders,

Par for the rock climbing course,

And barely a grip.

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Growing together,

Like two plump stubborn mushrooms,

I think I like you 😉

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No matter how far,

I go from my childhood bed,

These plants take me back.

Friends in Red Rock Canyon

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Clouds pass overhead –

But we will always have earth,

Hard beneath our feet.

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Oldest Memories,

Easy to be young with you,

Like when we were kids.

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I remember days,

Slower, sunny and languid,

Like in this desert.

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Nice to have nothing,

But the waving rocks and you,

And laughter all day.

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We have to go back –

The desert needs loud laughter,

More than it needs rain.

Three Ponds and Mt. Kineo Trail

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Will we see it all?

Before the changes of leaves,

Become too heavy?

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The brightest spectrum,

Soaring above the vortex,

Is an urgent signal.

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Is there a message,

Of solitude yet to come,

In this final leaf?

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Little vestiges,

Of sweet summer weightlessness,

Cling to cold branches.

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Where dormant beavers,

Dare not to stir still waters,

For chance of sightings.

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Two ageless tree stumps,

Standing in the stiff fall wind,

are tersely silent.

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In a bold, brash coup,

Burning autumn leaves defy,

Blue October skies.

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And the river flows,

Never in acknowledgement,

Of a single day.

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Ah – crisp waters sigh,

In an introspective way,

In a single note.

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The sharpest color,

Is a cool crystal azure,

In a hidden pool.

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Perfect, soft and smooth –

Hands playing in tall grasses,

Never to need rest.

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Far off the trail.

We peered beyond the marshes,

At a secret lake.

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Such brilliance beheld,

At the edge of the clearing,

Fishing poles aside.

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Then we were crossing,

That spiny twenty-foot dam,

Mud to our ankles.

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Broadcasting ripples,

To a far away neighbor,

The forgotten log.

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Bitter ruby leaves,

Pungeant like ripe cranberries,

Escort the bright stream.

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But not to forget,

What the pond must have been like,

Before we were here.

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The dam challenges,

Any fearing intruder,

Who wants to stay dry.

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And the logging ops,

Smooth out the windy ripples,

In a little cove.

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More spectacular,

More alive or energized,

Than any canvas.

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And unexpected,

The pool below Kineo,

And the high waters.

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There, the Mountaineer,

Standing as a true equal,

To power beyond.

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Just two old friends then,

Finding peace and forgiveness,

In the wilderness.

Mt. Lafayette, Mt. Lincoln and Little Haystack

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By Falling Water,

We passed into the journey,

Less concerned for if –

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The emboldened face,

Of granite, ever stoic,

Watched us climb over.

DSC03231Tired from trees,

Turning to the sky, for hope,

And inspiration.DSC03236Blinding autumn star,

Beaming over glowing streams,

Over Shining Rock.

DSC03238 A smallness is known,

To man, on a narrow ledge,

Under hard granite.DSC03244

Finally breaking,

A fine view through the tree line,

Encouraging us.

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Just a breath away,

Seemingly, Lafayette stands –

Impartially quiet.

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Endless summit sea,

Rolling waves of challenges,

On peaks yet unknown.

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Freedom is a length –

A measurement from the soul,

To endless wonder.

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The road to freedom,

Knows no enclosures or bonds,

Charges or limits.

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We stood on the edge,

To better know the high ridge,

Outside the bare path.

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In a certain sweep,

Our souls wandered the valleys,

Yet alive and well.

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Monumental cairn,

More of a fragile old friend,

Than a trail marker.

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And in looking back,

We saw the distance behind,

While catching our breath.

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Sudden consciousness –

To know where we were going,

And where we came from.

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Defiant vertical –

Never underestimate!

The power of stone.

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Curving cirrus clouds,

Beyond the stoic sheer wall –

Pass in deference.

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Where once shelter stood,

Memories of hitched horses,

Rest on the summit.

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One last longing glance,

Toward a place I knew well.

Must this be goodbye?

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Long roads lie ahead,

Dying sun tussles the grass,

Beneath my worn feet.

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Yet extraordinary,

To see again the ridges,

In the cool distance.

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The mountain, setting,

Not unlike the sun, brilliant,

In my mind’s eye still.

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With inches of light,

The forest path grows fast dim,

as we disappear.

Memories of the Pemi Trail and Basin

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We were here before –

And our hair was longer then,

blown back in the mist.

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Unattainable.

Like blurred rushing ice water,

Past my fingertips.

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I stood in this pool,

Waiting for you to see me,

Once upon a time.

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All of the old days,

Pounding hearts and brewing smiles,

Left in the Basin.

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We’ll wander up then –

To see the blue sky again,

And remember us.

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Something familiar,

Like a rock that never moves,

I have found your heart.

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Let the river swell.

We will stand, side by side here,

And spring from the rush.

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Or just quietly,

Fall to pieces together,

Under the cool stream.

Closer on Lonesome Lake

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Meteor Impact?

Or a pounding ancient hoof?

A question for Drew.

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We couldn’t stop it –

Helplessly, the shutter fell

To the birch beauty.

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The last breaths of warmth,

Stirring below the vast lake,

Wanting for summer.

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Not without grinding,

The gears of the fast Autumn,

Settle in a chill.

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We sat in reverence,

Watching the seasons run through,

Behind baring roots.

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Where an empty dock,

Views the most idyllic place –

Almost imagined.

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There in the east sky,

Three mountains that never move,

Hold down the hard earth.

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Lafayette reaches,

Out to Lincoln and Haystack,

Holding forever.

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On a wooden board,

The future was shown to us –

Yet solid and firm.

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For behind the change,

From confrontation is strength,

and all that matters.

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Especially to

Two small stretching wooden boards

Over cool waters.

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Our hopes hanging there,

Still perplexing and unknown,

But now considered.

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Is the clarity,

Of a crisp cool blue fall sky,

Too much to ask for?

Champney (Champion) Falls to the Chocorua Summit

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Cascades opening,

The valley for the trail –

Our invitation.

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Unforgettable –

The tree that climbed the rock face,

and never came down.

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Under massive stones,

We took a peek at darkness,

And felt sudden chill.

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Chiaroscuro,

Unapologetic, bold –

Rocks that say ‘Get lost.’

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Don’t trouble yourself

With worrying over roots,

Straight from a Märchen.

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Higher and higher,

Our steps lifted us quickly,

Into the great whites.

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On the perfect day,

We saw purple majesty –

All of the mountains.

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We held each other,

Without a care in the world,

But for a moment.

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A summit beagle,

Sleepy, slumbering beagle,

A ho-hum beagle.

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Southern exposure,

Boulders pressing the blue sky,

Making cloud diamonds.

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I felt cool metal,

Just under my fingertip –

I had arrived then.

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Guardian angel,

Just over my right shoulder,

Keeping watch of me.

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Guardian angel,

Just over my left shoulder,

Showing me the path.

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Wide open heavens,

Were always enough for us.

We reached paradise.

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The ridge to heaven,

Though treacherous and shifting,

Is well worth the climb.

Hypnosis at Franconia Falls

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Past rushing water,

I watched you jump over rocks –

Barefoot, I followed.

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Where swirling pebbles,

Made mortar bowls of boulders,

From raging rapids.

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But for a moment,

The water slowed down for us –

Something of a pool…

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And I couldn’t help,

Getting lost in the ebbing,

At the river’s edge…

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Were it yet warmer,

I may have been pulled into,

The icy waters.

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Perching on boulders,

Hypnotized, I forgot you,

And I forgot me.

Memories to Mt. Anna

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Just past logging camp –

A pond we never noticed

Just beyond our dreams –

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Creatures yet unseen,

Precarious jagged nests,

Hiding together.

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A beaver was here,

And obviously busy.

How cliche, we laughed.

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Too many to count,

And too many to ignore –

All the little ones.

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A quiet valley,

A view I hope will replace,

All those final days.