Mountains and Ice

Tag: trees

  • Poem – Roots

    I walk the worn dirt path circling the overgrown fields where the winds have abated and the grass, flowers, and trees have grown deep roots while the land has gone back in time before the cities of industry.

  • The Voice in the Forest

    I pass trees on either side, deeper into the forest and further form the fields, leaving one realm for another. I feel no fear of the unknown land I am nearing, and at this point there are no active thoughts of what I am leaving. I carry only the moment I am living and move…

  • The Light Settling in the Woods

      Old growth trees line a worn path cut from loggers decades before. The floor is covered with fallen needles and moss. A single white birch exists within the pine trees and glows no matter the time of day. Red squirrels run up tree trunks and jump to the next branch. If this is a…

  • Dogs of Summer #2

    On a somewhat grey and dreary day we headed north to the fields and trails near the Wild River, the St. Croix. Alone on sandy trails well suited for horses, we circled the empty field through the forest and made our way to the river. Beneath the grey sky, we felt the presence of life,…

  • Dogs of Summer #1

    Summer is not quite here, but that does not deter the sun, warmth, and life within the forest. The well-worn path lined with decades of growth, birth, and death is never lonely, is always filled with the voice of the forest. With a gentle touch and respect we spend our time free of the city,…

  • Retreat Vignettes – #2

    Tall pine holds up the sky free of clouds as the sun passes overhead. I look beyond the tree tops through the holes in the sky at the first star winking in the twilight of a spring evening. I am alone in simple thoughts free of burden but I feel an eye is cast in…

  • Retreat Vignettes – #1

    Moments the chaos is held at bay when the pine filled sky sways and the ravens visit and the earth releases its pungent scent.

  • Poem – Infinity

    Removed from the city even for an afternoon layers of stress and blocks fall away, replaced by what the wind brings, what the trees take, and what the animals are willing to share. How else to rebuild the soul than to witness firsthand the infinite cycle of nature, of earth, of home?

  • Poem – Watching

    The sleepy sun is just raising one eye when we walk onto the patio, one dog on each arm, into the cold morning with a thin layer of frost on the ground and the apple tree. Across the pond an oak tree has emerged from its slumber with a growing veil concealing the noisy ravens…

  • Poem – Shadow

    Scattered dreams forgotten at first light. A vague cloud follows. Trees bend at impossible angles the air wavers and shimmers. I walk the dirt path worn from ancestors and ancient methods. Morning light through the tree canopy casts fragments across my face. I cannot help but feel I am being followed by a shadow of…

  • Poem – Perseverance

    Storms rolled through last week. Weak and old trees toppled to the ground or fell into a neighbor or landed on the wire fencing with the orange flags. Near the pole barn smaller trees were uprooted but the metal roof still looks new, the green roof glistening when wet. What little birch are mixed with…

  • Poem – Contemplation

    I watch the sun set behind the hills. I watch planes pass overhead nearly colliding with the moon. I watch the pond empty and then fill again. And again. With ducks. The dogs stand watch, stoic poses, passed through generations and breeding. I wonder what they are thinking.

  • Poem – Where Chaos is Held at Bay

    Moments the chaos is held at bay when the pine filled sky sways and the ravens visit and the earth releases pungency. Each weeks struggle to fit in to complete what is expected to fulfil obligations takes its toll on the mind, the body, further distancing my connection to the forest and each animal, a…

  • Poem – Mirror

    The last ice melts and beneath the morning sun the pond is calm. Oak and grasses lean into the murky water and squirrels run through dried leaves. On my way to the trail winding through the forest a silent existence.

  • Poem – What Sees in the Dark

    Pre-dawn. Sliver of gradient orange into purple. Cloud-less. The forest stands tall merging with the sky. Cold breath. We listen to distant owls, we watch for the coyotes.