This close to heaven,
just below the timberline
pine trees climb and wait.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged haiku, Lone Pine CA, photographs, poetry, weekly-photo-challenge
The wildflowers were trying to bloom before we left for Elko on January 24th, primarily the ubiquitous Fiddleneck and Shepherd’s Purse, but yesterday as Robbin and I went to the Paregien Ranch, we could add Foothill Poppies, Purple Lupine, White-veined Mallow, Popcorn Flowers, Scorpionweed among others—all 30 days earlier than normal that may indicate an early, and perhaps short, spring, especially with record breaking temperatures in the high-70s the past two days.
As we enter what appears to be our fourth drought year with only 5.47” of rain to date, it could be worse. Last year at this time we had only accumulated 1.6”, a year in which we had to feed hay from August through March with a total rainfall for the season of 7.78”. Our 9-year average, including the last three dry years, is 14.36”.
Fortunately, some rain is predicted for this evening and Saturday that may linger into Sunday. Our south slopes have been stressed for the past three years, showing mostly brown with no cover of old feed to hold moisture or offer protection for the new grasses.
Additionally, there is little snow in the Sierras to supply surface water demands from Valley farmers. Water storage in flood control and irrigation facilities is at an all-time low. Half-way through our rainy season, it’s too late for any snow the Sierras might receive to freeze, thus we have lost any time-released benefits farmers might ordinarily enjoy, leaving us more susceptible to spring floods if the Sierras get any amount of snow for the remainder of the season.
No matter how you look at it, it doesn’t look good.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, flower-friday, Greasy Creek, Paregien Ranch, photographs, rain, weather, wildflowers
Nothing sudden, poor dry hills
like thin cows show too much bone,
I look away for a spot of green
in shadows of trees, on north slopes
to weigh our hopes: how many days left
before it rains? Bankrupt with years
of debt, of dirt exposed, of dust released,
the old oaks have given-up to start over—
to become earth again, and we
make plans to brand another bunch
like Kestrels courting spring, falling
in a flutter before me yesterday:
fourth of February, seventy-seven degrees.
Nothing sudden, we plod against the obvious
knowing nothing stays the same.
Following fifty tons
through light showers
across Nevada,
big alfalfa bales
towards our dry
California home,
we focus on raindrops
streaking reality
after a week of poetry
and song, to feel
our poor possibilities
grow by the truckload—
heavy with an endless
emptiness in our bellies
beneath the straps
of seat belts
before another wreck.
We hang on.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged alfalfa hay, Drought, National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, Nevada, photographs, poetry, rain, weather
What comes of words planted
from a poor harvest
but strong seed to root between
the cracks of rocks gathering
every bit of rain to fruit
again and again. Listen
to the defiant sound they make:
a crop of clashing cymbals
before they die and blow away
to a better place.
An iffy eternity at best,
but let them go, anyway.
With a leisurely, late start from Elko, we encountered a few midday showers Monday, crossing Nevada’s Great Basin between Carlin and Tonopah, making for some interesting high-speed photos with the point and shoot.
Under a dark cloud outside Eureka, a blurry foreground beneath a crisp Lone Mountain on the ‘Lonliest Road in America’ (US 50).
Hay headed to dry California.
We stopped for a bowl of soup at the refurbished and reopened Mizpah in Tonopah,
then headed into to the sunset towards Bishop.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Great Basin, National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, Nevada, photographs, rain, Tonopah, weather
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Purple Penstemon, wildflowers
Like scattered birds, they circle back
hovering, fragments of faces, bits
of song fluttering and floating before me,
moments searching for a place to roost
within memory. Some high and bold
on bare branches singing yet, singing
always, while others light behind
a rustling wall of leaves to build nests,
mate and incubate quietly within me.
Sometimes mindless creatures
of habit in bloom,
never sure who’s got whom.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Bird's Eye Gilla, haiku, photographs, poetry, wildflowers
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Blow Wives, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, wildflowers