Drift

Summer and the day drifts and shifts away. Like clouds. Shape of a rooster or whale. Shaded patterns along grasses. Branches that bend against sky. Or leaves. Dappled.  There are shouts of a man and the bark of a dog.  The voice of an owl calling. In an evening,  as the day slips, as you…

Fire

The plume rises before us.  White and billowy.  We watch from across the valley. Then walk back to our camp by the lake.  The beautiful alpine lake snug against steep cliffs – where remnants of snow cling to rocks on the far side.  It is the place we picked so as to monitor the fire’s…

Hard to Beat a Sunny Day

It’s hard to beat a sunny day there at the river’s edge. Like the day  we run upstream with inner tubes, scrambling over rocks and logs  as the dog chases and barks. It’s all easy then – this living. Terrific,  people say when they come and see the mountain and  water and  sand and the small…