Early yet in an early spring,
growing patches, orange-gold,
claim open slopes like flames,
Fiddleneck between gray skeletons
of Blue Oaks pushing bud,
feathery translucent leaves
where the gods walk ridges,
wave hands to paint,
adding color to hillside green
we’ve not seen tall in years.
Out of dust and naked dirt,
new mosaics, lush with moments,
openings for everything put off
in drouth—real work we absorb,
take our sweet time to recognize.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged Blue Oak, Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, real work, time, weather, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers
February 24, 2015
March 3, 2015
March 3, 2015
March 3, 2015
I first spotted these flowers in March 2012, misidentifying them as Hill Sun Cups, then, due to drought conditions, only saw them briefly again in 2014. At two locations across the creek and east of the house about 1/4 mile, they began blooming in late February of 2015.
According to the Calflora map, this is the northernmost sighting west of the Sierras. Not a rare species, if confines itself to Southern California and east of the Sierras. Always nice to find a wildflower established beyond its normal range.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Dry Creek, Eschscholzia minutiflora, photographs, Pygmy Poppy, wildflowers
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged 2015 Wagyu Calf Branding, branding, Dry Creek, Fire, garden, grapefruit, haiku, Naranja, oranges, photographs, poetry, Pork loins, weekly-photo-challenge
Sierra Shooting Star (Dodecatheon jeffreyi) – March 3, 2015
No wildflower man, but of all he saw
worth a mention once or twice
in his lifetime—suggesting value
in the time invested for a boy’s
inspection. Too delicate to touch,
what could we know of grace
refined by harsh survival,
each tangent honed to fit and fly
by millennia of failures?
Perhaps heaven-sent by night
to find transcending daylight
well-apart from the myopic zeal
of mortals, these long stems arched
above the grass on steep and damp
north slopes just waiting to be seen.
Perfect for early bloomers,
Fiddleneck, White-veined Mallow,
London Rockets pale the pasture.
Rain in the ground, thick Filaree
overreaches like loose-fringed
lettuce for more—more of the same.
Grass ahead of the cattle, it’s war—
every seed battling for real estate,
real dirt damp, for sun and rain,
green hills puddled with spilt paint.
Everything perfect on it’s own, yet
I fret with the brittle momentum
of lean, dry years—months of dust
and hay—a hard pace that interferes
with becoming forgiving as this ground
exploding in all the colors of rain.
Desperately, I reach through
early morning black for light.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, resilience, water, weather, wildflowers
Oxalis pes-caprae – March 1, 2015
Non-native invasive,
clusters of yellow spill down
draws along the road.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Bermuda Buttercup, Dry Creek, haiku, Invasive, Non-native, Oxalis pes-caprae, photographs, poetry, weather, wildflowers
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged death, Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, resurrection, weather, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers, wildlife
Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and when he dies
only the five senses that we know perish with him,
and the other ninety-five remain alive.
– Anton Chekhov (“The Cherry Orchard”)
The past walks here, all the dead
horses and livestock men grazing
a hundred and fifty springs—
all the promises and passion spilled
upon this wild mat of grass and flowers,
naked lovers idly pinching petals
along the creek for centuries
within the mottled shade
these same trees have cast, yet see
to keep alive. We have had
our moments here, left ourselves
so wholly that we rise and rest
among them, add our song
to the canyon, our cries to the sky
to forever make our home.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged "The Cherry Orchard", Anton Chekhov, Baby Blue Eyes, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, senses, weather, White-Veined Mallow, wildflowers
Crossing into spring
to move the low cattle up
to let the grass grow.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs
Tagged Calves, Cowgirls, cows, Drought, Dry Creek, flower-friday, haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, water, weather, wildflowers
On the low, rocky ridge,
a Roadrunner moans for a mate
in declining octaves—first awake
February mornings, ever hopeful
for a better day of circumnavigating
barn and garden. Then returns
to hear his song carry to the creek
that has found the river now
for the first time in years, tying
dry ground, this canyon together—
breathing easier, whole again,
it spreads coolly through us
as Wood Ducks skip upstream
to feed beneath the canopies
of old oaks and sycamores.
We have learned the call,
draw him closer with an answer
only more rain can bring.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged birds, Drought, Dry Creek, garden, photographs, poetry, rain, roadrunner, water, weather, wildlife, Wood Ducks
