Non-native invasive,
clusters of yellow spill down
draws along the road.
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
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
Delicate patches
along the creek, they flourish—
mother’s favorite.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Baby Blue Eyes, Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, weather, wildflowers
In the dark I hear the heartbeat
of another world on this planet
the newscasts miss, we overlook
amid conflicting calculations
with new angles on the numbers
to chart a course to reverse them—
eyes spinning within a slot machine.
Light applause on the roof
answers with one more encore
wrenched from early morning’s
black sky, each green blade,
thick as dog hair in these hills
puddled with brightly colored petals
already reaching for first light.
In the dark I hear the heartbeat
of wet ground growing stronger,
inhale its sweet breath
all-around me releasing life.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, grass, photographs, poetry, rain, water, weather, weekly-photo-challenge, Whitetip Clover, wildflowers
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged California, Drought, haiku, Hay, photographs, poetry, rain, weather, weekly-photo-challenge
Thin veil of snow on the Kaweahs—
granite shows on peaks undressing.
The creek slows and disappears
as the thirsty earth drinks miles
from the river, puddled behind a dam
that will not fill the Valley’s furrows.
Tan medallions, last spring’s leaves
quiver from brittle fingers of oak trees
sprinkling green hills, giving centuries
of rainfall back as decomposing homes
for smaller survivors. It is not over
despite a forecast chance of rain—
dry seasons last, leave evidence only
years of floods can erase. Almost March,
the buzzards have returned early
circling an easy harmony of generations
gone—each clear voice rising,
we hear assurance and good advice.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged birds, Blue Oak, buzzards, Drought, Dry Creek, Great Western Divide, Kaweah, Kaweah River, photographs, poetry, rain, water, weather, wildlife, Yokuts