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
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
Dry Creek:
2.28″ @ 6:00 a.m.
6,000+ cfs (extrapolated) @ 8:00 a.m. (Dry Creek running above gauging station not calculated.)
Kaweah River:
26,659 cfs @ 8:00 a.m.
Badger: 4.75″ @ 6:00 a.m.
Kaweah Watershed: https://www.spk-wc.usace.army.mil/fcgi-bin/hourly.py?report=trm
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Atmospheric River, Dry Creek, flood water, photography, rain, water, weather
How many jillion rains have washed away
the rodent digs from these exposed intrusions,
lichen-stained, fractured magma rockpiles
changing shape in the sun’s daylight and shadow
to appear to be alive for eons, like a trout
breaching a clay wave, free to see the sky?
Some have seen so much that they have souls.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023
Tagged anthropomorphism, Lichen, magma, photography, poetry, rain, rockpiles, rocks, soul, water, Windmill Spring
Seed to grain
on a whim of the weather
watched constantly
from space
and here on planet Earth
swirling with tempests
beyond the hands
of politicians—
try as they might.
Rooted in dirt
we search the habits
of our wild totems
for miracles
and pray to God as well
for luck.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2022
Tagged dirt, earth, God, luck, photography, poetry, TOTEMS, water, weather
Two coyotes lope across the road in the rain
in their retreat from the swollen creek, roaring
like prolonged thunder distantly—unafraid
for they are fat on rodents curled in flooded
burrows, tailings fresh. The herons and egrets
will appear with the sun, stand guard like statues
in garden nurseries look alive. Too wet to fly,
the sheltered hawks in the limbs of leafless trees
will spread their wings until their feathers dry.
And we too wait. Some days it’s too wet—
too hot, too cold, or too dry to work—but once
in a while it makes more sense just to behold.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023
Tagged coyotes, Drought, Dry Creek, Egrets, hawks, HERONS, photography, poetry, rain, RODENTS, water, weather
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.
Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal
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.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2022, Ranch Journal
Tagged Dry Creek, photography, poetry, rain, runoff, vernal pools, water, weather, Wood Ducks
Three-day one-inch-rain,
warm wet dirt germinating
green hair on steep slopes.
(Click to enlarge)
Posted in Haiku 2022, Photographs, Poems 2022, Ranch Journal
Tagged cotyledons, earth, germination, haiku, miracle, nature, photography, poetry, rain, seed, water
1.
Gray dust clouds rising
behind cows down powdered trails
off these bare mountains.
2.
The diesel feed truck
awakes a bawling chorus
to claim the canyon.
3.
All imperative
and hungry, it twists our guts—
La Niña pending.
Posted in Haiku 2022, Photographs, Poems 2022, Ranch Journal
Tagged cattle, Drought, haiku, La Nina, photography, poetry, water, weather
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