Poetry #1 March 26, 2020

I decided to share four of my poems. I did have to keep looking up what a participle is.
Thanks for sharing your poems all!

Max

Haiku

Crocus purple petals

Robin scolds from apple tree

We silently wait

Cinquain

Daffodil

Yellow, Bright,

Shake, Bud, Bloom,

Like a Rocket Ship

Spring

Septolet

Ball

Spinning quickly

Towards home plate

Wide-eyed

Batter

Swings wildly

Blind luck wins

Diamante

Dawn

Red, Yellow,

Warning, Coughing, Gasping,

Mask, Nurse, Shield, Priest,

Sweating, Swearing, Praying,

Purple, Black,

Sunset

Along the Ridge - February 6th, 2019

I was tired but felt strong. Each step I kicked into the hard snow was a mixture of exertion, balance and trying not to look up at the top of the hill. The skis on my shoulder were heavy and my fingers of my right hand were getting chilly as the held the poles on the windward side of the ridge.

But I felt strong! I was trekking along the ridge above Loveland at 13,000 feet, going much farther and hiking much higher than I had originally planned. While my breathing was labored in the thin air, I also felt powerful and in control. Being above timberline, in summer or winter, fills me up in a way little else can. The 360-degree views, drop-offs on both sides, a point to hike towards, and the rest of the world far below, unwilling to join my commune with nature.

After going through 'Gate 3 South', I looked for a place to descend, that wouldn't risk breaking my neck. The cornice overhanging the steep slope to the ski area was intimidatingly high and I worried it could break off under my skis if I got too close to the edge. The large "death cookie" chunks far below were evidence of previous avalanches and cornice break-offs.

Those are all from Ski Patrol and avalanche control right?




Side-slipping along the ridge, I finally found a place that felt safe with several hundred feet of windblown powder, an empty canvas waiting for my skis to paint s-curves upon it. I start down, feeling clumsy and slightly off-balance, but manage to keep it upright. Puffing from the exertion I turn to look up the hill. With some pride I see that I've I managed to lay down a respectable track, snaking down the hill. Only I knew how close I'd come to falling.

SOL September 19, 2018 - It's not about the hunting

It's basically dark, but light enough to not need a flashlight. The stars have faded from above and the sky is that deep blue that tells you sunlight is coming soon. The air is cold, although it's warmer than it should be this late in the fall and we can not even see the foggy exhales of our breathe. We start walking and the dry leaves crackle under our feet.

"Look!" A bright star is gliding across the clear sky. It's bright like a planet. I think, "It might be a plane," but it's not blinking. It's the International Space Station! Even though the stars are gone, the sunlight reflecting off its solar panels still allows it to be seen from its 'close' distance of 250 miles above us.  We pause to watch it make its way to the east, disappearing into the brightening glow of the sunrise.

I've gotten back into archery hunting this fall and it's for moments like these, not for the "thrill of the kill." Being outside, no matter the excuse, leads to memories I would not have experienced otherwise. Although it was a forgettable hunting season in terms of seeing, and possibly shooting an elk, it was a great season of hunting new memories.

One day, I saw a family of ruffled grouse, one mother and six young, walking their way across a high alpine meadow.

I would have missed the aspens at their peak golden color this year, had I not been out crunching through the leaves, tracking elk.

My brother-in-law and I  deepened our friendship as we found a new way to share time together and our love of being outdoors. It's an easy friendship now and we travel well together.

One evening, we had to walk two miles in the dark to get back to the truck, because night came a little faster than we expected and we were further up on the mountain than we thought. It was so dark but the forest was so new and exciting as we used new senses to explore where we had already travelled earlier in the day.

The stars at 4AM are so bright, it's a shame to turn on the headlamp to start a hunt. Each constellation is crystal clear and the Milky Way is visible, sprayed from horizon to horizon.

It's quiet; especially at night. Not silent, but the noises are natural. Like wind through pine needles, the howl of a coyote, the drip of rain.

I'm almost glad we went the entire season without a kill, because I would have missed so many other things that fill up my memory bucket, if we had been 'successful' hunters on the first day.

Max's Book Test Post

My favorite book is The River Why by David James Duncan. While it's about a fisherman and I love fishing, it also is about life and growing up and working to get what you want. Plus, it's amazingly funny!

Katie is a BEAST!