Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Musical Intermission IV

Bloggin's been slow to say the least. So here's a little musical intermission to break the silence.

Haven't been to a concert in a long time. But a few weeks ago, the wife and I were able to witness the power that is..... Hillsong

Not my video, but this was similar to our view of the show

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Coarsegold Creek

Available in 720 HD

You feel the breeze.
Easy and gentle as a baby's sleeping breath.
The ravages that storms can bring
Don't occur in these parts.
Semi-arid, semi-drought conditions are the norm.

No temperate rainforest for the Sierra's.
Hot, peaceful almost weather to say the least.
With sometimes enough wind to stir the oak leaves and rattle the grasses.
The sound of flags and banners flapping in the wind.
Raised outposts spread upon the southern boundary waters,
Of the mother-lode of the old empires.

As the rains sweep clean the gardens low,
We turn our eyes towards the hills in velvet.
The sound of a thousand bells in the distance.
The fountains welling up in the ephemeral.

Pumping to the heartbeat of the hillsides.
Lifted with the springs as the mountain releases.
Thundering in brooks tumbling over coarse gold.
Reverence brought to the surface.

Sons and daughters racing American Paints
Down evergreen hills christened in succession.
Hoofs shod with rose quartz
To grind the granite and stir the dust.

Generations rushing at our feet
With the power to move mountains.
As if to outrun the words.
Stories of grace and mercy and victory
Following one after another.
Welcoming those who journey West.

Spirit breathes life into these moments.
Floated by the currents and pulled along.
Cooling this furnace fired glaze
That's sealed in hopes and prayers.
Grains showing through the polish.

And as these waters rise,
They gather stones to swirl holes in boulders.
They create light reflecting off the surface,
To shine above the fog settling in the valley.

What is a creek, becomes a river.
Becomes echoes in the wilderness.
Cheers of thanks between deep, deep breaths.
Taking in the cool sweetness of it all.

These seasons turn, and turn once more.
Each time wearing grooves upon the surface.
Making round from what was square.
Bringing peace like a creek born again.

Through glens and dales and hills and streams,
The gardens shake awake from dreams.
To follow down to river bend.
The greens with whitened lace to mend.

For little Dashiell. My brother's boy. Welcome to the world young man.


Button Bush

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

A Spring Day Out With The Emberlit

Only took one pic this time I guess. Just a quick outing on a nice day testing out my new Emberlit stove. Burns through wood hot and fast. Nice little addition to the kit I would say.

Thanks for watching

Available in 720HD

Saturday, January 9, 2016

The Mountain

A great horned owl takes two steps sideways
On his branch chosen for its prominence
Blinks his eyes wide and clacks his beak in anticipation
Cocks his head as he leans forward into the pre dawn light of the waning night

His wings spread clean and react to the gravity of his choosing
He glides above the fresh fallen snow
Where his wings leave angel sized prints as his hunt becomes circumstance

Outcomes of these agendas play out day after day through the ages
Cycles of returnings amended in these forests
Streams meandering through the meadows in slow cessation
Life left to thrive as the mountain looms above

These mountains enter our lives first seen from the high passes
Or rather we enter the mountain's life as companionship is welcomed
And while some fade away worn down to foothills to greet the plains
Some stay as hardened granite baking in the sun

Grizzled and dark
Jagged peaked and talus sloped
And worn smooth in the depths of its valleys

Yet all that the mountain rears to stand tall on its own
It provides the basis for life in this world

Sheltering from the winds blowing across the sea
Gathering snows when the storms roll in
Slowly releasing waters ever on from glaciers hanging in the shadows
Fissuring the stone for springs to pour forth and sustain

Growing grasses for rams in alpine meadows
Stocking forests of cones for the woodchuck to store away until the freeze
Building rivers to tumble the boulders
Slowing pools for reflection in the early morning light

Playing out sands in the widening bends
Covering nuggets for miners to pluck from the stream beds
Mixing soils for roots to sink deeply
Darkening hollows for owls to seek shelter

The mountain is and always was
Still there to cast his cool shadow in the warm summer afternoon
Still there to reflect the last light of the day in burning alpenglow
Ever present as is his way

Remember the mountain
He will see you through

......For Darlene and the girls......

In Memory of Alan Rondi - June 1957 - December 2015 - 

He is a Mountain

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The Saga - Video Added

Made a video to the previous post

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The Saga

What once was green and gold of day
Has turned to black and brown and grey
And left to die upon the vine
As waters foul and start to brine

Squeezed from the sponge onto the stone
Cleaving the marrow from the bone
Taking with it the ways and means
To burn and thrive and carry the genes

A swamp wallowing in misery's air
Whose roots run deep and limbs stretch bare
Where the saga gleams bright in the noon day sun
Of no more that is that can be done

When autumn bells ring round the land
Yet no leaves lay upon the sand
Who sings the words of solemn tune
For those who stand upon the dune

Along the hill of wooded pine
Losing the fight of great decline
Tapestries once woven in green
Unravel a golden threaded scene

Where fire has spread its fingers long
From first among the rocks held strong
Thought not to burn so far and wide
Contained to just one mountainside

But as is it's way, it found it's path
And blackened all in aftermath
Choked the land in smoke and soot
To crush to dust under the foot

Turning what was bad into much worse
To what was already dried from thirst
Gasping words of the solemn tune
For those who dare to feel immune

Higher still where snows settle in
Where storms gather and air is thin
We begin our quest for what its worth
To give our thanks for time on earth

Together we journey along meadow's edge
And tow our fortunes on weighted sleds
To sink our knees in icy bliss
Rejoicing in winter's first kiss

Circles form in outward splay
Where children of the woodland play
Mellow notes rise on frosted breeze
Lingering awhile amongst the trees

We sing the song against the rend
And to life anew upon the mend
Rearrange the words of the solemn tune
So love goes on as carved in rune

For Lu,

Happy Birthday

Sunday, November 1, 2015

El Nino

We wait
Toiling in this drought
Whirling like the dust on the horizon
Trapped like smoke in a valley
Blowing across the rising sun

We wait for rain to settle
For wind to clear away
For words to lead towards peace
And for a beacon of light in the darkness

We are humbled upon the hard, hurtin' soil
Wells drying up across this land of milk and honey
Subsidence settling in
As the water beneath us sinks further out of reach

To new depths never seen before
Souring in this ever deepening valley
As the mountains of the setting sun
Rise and tilt closer

Forcing the full measure of their weight upon us
Ridges of high pressure bearing down
With grinding teeth and furrowed brow
And forge hot breath to glow the embers

17 years of drought upon the West
Oceans warming in a seething churn
Sending violent waves upon our shores
The roar of distant drums of the approaching

With heavy loads upon our backs
We travel this lonesome road for no reason known
Listening to the echoes in the swirling wind
For the voice that carries the message home

Resting only to savor what is brought to the table
Full course meals with all the trimmings
Saying grace as the house lights dim
Hushing with anticipation as the curtains begin to open

Thundering words with brilliant lines
Come dancing off the mountainsides
Stepping quickly down the hills
Like welcoming arms outstretched above

A release of tears upon the land
Showing drop soon building upon drop
Starting trickle to form upon trickle
Moving stream to converge upon stream

Life giving waters rain down upon the earth
Filling the reservoirs to tip the scales
Finding the true level to right the balance
While love encircles on the outskirts

El Nino
The Boy
The Christ Child
We wait for His return