No spring chicken, she’s let herself go
wild after a decade of waterless summers
as if saving up the emptiness to fill at once—
every wrinkle in these hills oozing rivulets
into foaming cappuccino creeks cresting
towards runaway rivers spilling, flooding
valley towns and farm ground with lakes
and bogs—all the years of prayers answered
with much more passion than we wanted.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, flood, Mother Nature, photography, poetry, PRAYERS, rain, weather
Too many years courting goddesses,
genuflecting at the foot of ridgetops:
oak trees sharp and close enough to touch
to beg relief—to even entertain
such shameful blasphemy, such
feeble will to forever lose their ear.
Every river canyon churns to fill
and spill its reservoirs, white-capped
Sierras stacked with two-year’s snowpack
awaiting summer’s melt to flood the flats
and yet I can’t concede what is not me:
always ready, waiting for a good-hard rain.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged dams, flood, photography, poetry, prayer, rain, rain goddess, rivers, snow, weather
We have left our mark on this ground:
the house, the pipe, the horses,
cattle, shop and barn—and the avenues
between them—that were not here
forty years ago where the deer lay down
beside the road. Our tracks everywhere
we worked details into grazing hillsides
and raising calves you’ll never see
before they are erased by time’s storms
and someone else’s appetites and dreams.
Our short moment among the mortar holes
and pictographs that will outlive our presence.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry
Tagged culture, Home, mortar holes, photography, pictographs, poetry, time, tracks, Wuknaw
The creek-flood bears no malice
as it carves its way to a flatland war
unearthing trees and buried cobbles
of past centuries—laying waste
to man’s old and new improvements.
It cares no more than the clouds and rain
that feed its energy, its violence
and its thunderous roar. Nor does it
bestow charity to soothe our minds
and flesh—it has no agenda, no noble
purpose nor dishonorable motives.
It just is what it always has been.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged Dry Creek, flood, photography, poetry, rain, water, weather
Every day is a holiday
when you can’t remember
what day it is—
when you can’t leave the driveway,
can’t leave the blacktop,
when it’s too wet to plow
for weeks at a time
as the creek rises and falls
with Atmospheric Rivers.
The finches bring branches
of dry debris, Roadrunners
chaunt solicitous love songs
despite the divine disasters
that temper mortal urgencies
a week away from the Equinox.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged Atmospheric Rivers, cabin fever, Dry Creek, Mother Nature, photography, poetry, rain, weather
Highwater debris,
enough to measure peak flow
gauging stations miss.
We’ve begun naming creeks
that flood the dry draws,
pull nominees from our histories
while exchanging guffaws.
We have become the helpless
prisoners of the weather,
of flatland floods and saturated mud,
resisting cabin fever.
Roads and fences, trees to cut,
our work comes to a halt—
no need to fuss, cows don’t need us
with water, grass and salt.
Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged cabin fever, Dry Creek, flood water, haiku, helpless, humility, mud, photography, poetry, rain, runoff, water, weather
We never quite know
how our negligence
is ultimately received.
Somewhere upstream,
a tire too close to the creek,
became humor and irony
tumbling downstream
to balance and settle
with the flood debris—
a perfect amount
of seasoning for
a State of Emergency.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal
Tagged brush catchers, Dry Creek, flood debris, high water, humor, irony, jetsam, photography, poetry, rain, weather
Safe arms of an oak
support an unruffled pause
for all but the dogs.
Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023
Tagged barking dogs, Bobcat, photography, poetry
1.
Thrum upon the roof,
the creek stretches loudly now,
rain streams day and night
from heaven’s dark skies—
a decade of dreams and prayers
descend upon us.
2.
Our totems come and go to rest
before our eyes, eagles and herons
inspect our souls without asking,
families of quail titter at our feet,
antlers tilt to consider our hunger
in places we mark in our memories.
3.
She doesn’t care, has no compassion
for our self-indulgence, shapes her track
of least resistance embracing landscapes,
rearranging the gravity of facts
we must endure when she leaves us
with fresh metaphors into the future.
Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, metaphors, Mother Nature, photography, poetry, rain, snow, weather
Your robe’s frozen sleeve
reaches the creek once again,
my unending friend,
you carry both storm
and heaven on your shoulders
when I reflect up—
face unwavering
beneath sun and starlit night
always in the morning.
______________________________________
It’s been interesting weather, now half-way through our rainy season, over 18 inches of rain after a decade of drought. Already whispers from the loudest drought complainers for relief as these hills leak crystal rivulets again.
We lost a month in time in January to the Atmospheric River during branding season, and now with nearly 3 inches in the past 3 days and 3 inches more forecast for the next three, it will be at least a week before we can get to our upper country to brand the last bunch, putting us close to the middle of March. These calves will be big, a handful.
The Paregien Ranch ranges from 2,000 to 2,600 with its own light blanket of snow now, time-released moisture soaking into the clay and granite ground that leaks down the smooth rock waterfalls of Ridenhour Canyon, adding to Dry Creek that peaked at 684 cfs last night, that probably washed out some of our watergaps replaced after January’s peak flow over 3,500 cfs.
Job security, but patience until we can get there—you can’t fight Mother Nature, just try to adapt and face the consequences—fully enjoy her luxuriant and persistent presence after so much needed moisture.
Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal
Tagged branding, Drought, Dry Creek, grass, green, haiku, Mother Nature, Paregien, patience, photography, poetry, rain, snow, Sulphur Peak, weather
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