Hiding in shadows
and deep in the dry grasses,
no longer extinct.
Posted in Haiku 2016, Photographs, Poems 2016, Ranch Journal
Tagged haiku, photography, poetry, rare and endangered, wildflowers
To circumnavigate
the granite entwined as one
to bathe in sunshine.
~
On reconnaissance to ostensibly assess the native feed in order to decide when we will begin weaning our calves, Robbin and I spent a delightful day in Greasy yesterday. With more grass than cattle, it wasn’t the amount of grass, but its maturity we were judging between several camera stops and a quick snack with a clan of cows and calves. Though some wildflowers have been conspicuously absent this spring, like popcorn flowers, most have flourished while competing with the tall grass.
Posted in Haiku 2016, Photographs, Poems 2016
Tagged Dichelostemma volubile, photography, poetry, Twining Brodiaea, wildflowers
Posted in Haiku 2016, Photographs
Tagged flower-friday, haiku, Ithuriel's Spear, photography, poetry, Triteleia laxa, wildflowers
Over the ridge, friendly families
claim the hillside, pale homesteads
amid a sweep of shadowed green
beg for me to look, first to welcome
me back home, back off the road
two thousand feet below.
Here, now can last a long time—no need
to remember names when everyone
looks the same, ready for a party.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2016, Ranch Journal
Tagged Golden Brodiaea, photography, poetry, Triteleia ixioides, wildflowers
Within the silent clash of blades,
shy scarlet globes within green stems
hide with their heads bowed
if you know where they live.
In the thatch of another world,
snallygaster crane flies become
fairies within the grass forest
we part to share the light
of twenty-one springs together
in these hills with generations
of cattle, with all the wild gods
and goddesses as our witnesses.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2016, Ranch Journal
Tagged Calochortus amoenus, photography, poetry, wildflowers
Thriving in the cracks of granite,
small towns with no strangers
overlooked by bigger appetites
for glory, mountainsides of color.
Carefree young, I rest more often now
resisting time, give-in to gravity
to see my shrinking world up-close:
sagas of intricate adaptations
singing softly to the sun.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2016, Ranch Journal
Tagged flower-friday, Mimulus floribundus, photography, poetry, wildflowers
I let my hand run
upon paper with pencil,
let lines loose to find the grace
etched upon the walls of my mind,
imitate the random arcs
balanced against the tension
of gravity and time
lest I forget a world without
my awkward plodding.
In the foreground: slate gray grass
connects to tall stems bent
with petals across the page.
A plodding drawn through hot
and dry, through the seasons
to graze this moment,
this cacophony of light—
of life exploding
beneath our feet.