Author Archives: John

Dry Creek, January 9, 2023

Posted on January 10, 2023 | 4 comments
3,500+ cfs @ 5:00 p.m.

 

Atmospheric creek,

miles of canyons into one,

now headed somewhere.

 

 

 

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Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal

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THE BUENA VISTA

Posted on January 7, 2023 | Leave a comment

 

 

Rising from the saddle

beneath Sulphur,

a full wolf moon views

 

            first break in the rain

            for over a week

            as if to assess

            a rare miracle:

 

            green slopes leaking

            rivulets spilling

            into draws into creeks

            foamed like Irish coffee.

 

We are drunk with it

wanting more, another

warm sweet storm

 

            to validate

            a lifetime—this

            wild existence:

 

            grass and rain,

            cows to graze

            our blurred exposure.

 

 

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RAINBOW

Posted on January 6, 2023 | 1 comment

 

 

No word of the whereabouts

of La Niña 3, one more dry year

waiting in the wings to sell cows

 

and feed more hay—instead,

8 days rain out of 9 and more

to come, bare canyon green.

 

We are helpless, flood or drought,

her fickle Nature always serving

what she wants, anywhere, anytime.

 

 

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NATURE IN CHARGE

Posted on January 2, 2023 | 4 comments

 

 

After a decade, we gave-up prayer,

swallowed our appeals to pagan gods

and goddesses that might be listening—

 

we forgot the feel of tall green feed

wet upon our knees, resigned ourselves

to do without—to adapt to drought.

 

Wettest December in a century,

but for the floods of ’55 and ’66,

I don’t regret what I wished for.

 

 

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AR

Posted on January 1, 2023 | 6 comments

 

 

Thanks to science,

we’re learning new lingo

to rhyme with reason—

plus head-scratching acronyms

to break meter and thought.

 

Six straight days wet

and a good chance

for a dozen more

floating along

this atmospheric river.

 

________________________________

 

Flowing 962 cfs @ 8:00 a.m. at the brush catchers, Dry Creek peaked at 1,400 cfs @ 3:00 a.m., Badger having received 3.81″ upstream in the last 24 hrs. 1.61″ for us.   

 

 

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NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION

Posted on January 1, 2023 | Leave a comment

 

 

No time to rush! Let me linger,

relearn the mantra,

absorb the moment.

Time will escape me soon enough.

 

The forecast storm is bogged-down north.

We’re wet enough

to have a spring—

wildflowers blooming in our dreams.

 

Feeding horses, I catch the mist—

each tiny drop

upon my tongue

tastes like this passing moment.

 

 

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CAT SKID STEER

Posted on December 29, 2022 | 3 comments

 

 

The jobs I’d rather do

crowd first in line

to steal my mind away

 

from the more mundane

and routine responsibilities

to climb inside the Cat

 

skid steer, feel its hydraulic

strength pump to load

a ton or more or move

 

a five-ton stump

closer to the coals—

clean-up the tangled mess

 

Edison left to cover

their derrières

beneath the wires.

 

Seven-day burn,

4-foot thick eucalyptus,

I scoured the pasture

 

for fallen-limb kindling

to keep the flame

alive inside me.

 

 

 

 

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Posted in Photographs, Poems 2022

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COVER OF COLOR

Posted on December 28, 2022 | 2 comments

 

 

Gray canyon rain,

café au lait rivulets

overfill vernal pools

 

spreading to the creek

just begun to run

at the end of December.

 

She stayed overnight

and all day, lingering

to leave us extra rain,

 

as if we were old lovers

trying to give the past

a second chance—

 

she offers nourishment

to thirsty earth, bare slopes

a cover of color come spring:

 

a team of sunlit Wood Ducks

at the edges of water pooled

grazing with horses. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted in Photographs, Poems 2022, Ranch Journal

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DRY CREEK ROAD 1946

Posted on December 25, 2022 | 2 comments
Oil by Myrtle Sue Redford

 

Dirt track before asphalt,

ruts in mud, December sycamores

after a rain waiting to undress,

 

like always—it feels the same

to escape upcanyon in your painting,

leaving main roads behind

 

before it was engineered

for 18 wheels to haul gravel—

town politics behind us.

 

Before the flood of ’55,

Terminus Dam in ’61,

much has changed

 

except for the feeling you’ve captured

of peaceful adventure

at every beginning of our road home.

 

                      for Myrtle Sue Redford

 

 

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TULE FOG

Posted on December 22, 2022 | 4 comments

 

 

Stacked in the valley

and thick as milk gravy,

it spills over the ridge

 

in slow-rolling waves

eclipsing the daylight

to swallow you up

 

in cold cottony gray.

Easy to get lost in the fog

when you can’t see

 

your horse’s wet ears—

find something dry

to start a fire

 

and wait for it to lift—

or trust he knows

his blind way home.

 

 

 

 

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