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
Slowly
Silently
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
Strong
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
