Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
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
Sunday, November 1, 2015
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
The Christ Child
We wait for His return
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
A short while ago I had a chance to test out a new model from Scott Gossman of Gossman Knives. This is his version of a WSK style blade which he let 10 of us play with in a passaround. Big thanks goes out to Scott for that. There's more explanation in the video, so check that out if you wish. Best played in HD 720 and LOUD! lol
Friday, August 7, 2015
The girls wanted to accompany my buddy and me on our recent trip. The movie Wild may or may not have had some influence in them wanting to join us this time. So we thought we would keep it simple since this being the ladies first time into the backcountry for an overnighter and all. 2 miles and 500 ft elevation gain to Mystery Lake in the Dinkey Lakes Wilderness. It was the easiest we could find within reach and that still allowed campfires without the full on fire ban as in other local areas.
I think going with friends helped in all having a good time. On the way in, the ladies showed great skill and determination to show off their highly tuned bush skills in sarcasm and wit as the two of them plotted our deaths for "making" them do this Gotta keep your wits up if you're going to make it ya know. Luckily I am still alive to tell the tale.
Gave me a good chance to play with Gossman Knives's WSK knife while I had it during the pass-around. There's a little footage of it here, but I'll do more of a review later.
Available in HD 720
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Content upon his place of rest
in the garden of the golden eternal.
Sun heating the grasses through in waves
across the quieted clearings.
Long ago he came to this spot.
Found the exposure to suit his temperament.
Built a home for a seed to grow,
so that he could have shade from summer's fury.
One hand with upturned palm
holding soil and oak seedlings.
Three spirits condensed in rock and earth and tree.
Solid, sifted through, and alive.
Old bones ground to dust in this handcraft mortar.
Minerals of the cosmos slowly released
from comets connecting with the surface.
Vibrations being sent throughout the land.
Millennia in the sand and rain.
Slowly this granite decomposes,
turning to grains both course and fine.
Mixing the soil and becoming the hill anew.
Taken up by grasses and flowers.
Become pollen or seeds carried by the wind.
Or washed along in the runoff,
only to sprout further downstream.
Born again a thousand times over.
Until worn away enough
to be covered over lightly embedded.
Returned to the earth once more.
Turn the wheel.
Hum the message.
Offer the prayer.
And sustain the flow.
Happy, well rested medicine Buddha.
Fat and smiling satisfied in the shade.
Sitting still at 1,000 miles an hour,
as this planetary foundation spins forever round.
His tea leaves steep among these rolling slopes.
Trees, grasses, and flowers let go.
Give off steam as the pressures subside.
Release their intertwined earthbound holds.
Tarweed - Madia elegans