There are still a few trees holding on to their green. But by the time they turn color most other trees will have dropped. There are also several bare trees in the woods even now.
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The Judge
August 24, 2009≡
If you have read
Then you know
Of the White Bear
He is my
Judge, Jury, & Executioner
Never haunting
Only condemning
Though years pass
Between sentences
Always do I hear
the clap of the clawed gavel
Rending my Fate
Now again
I stand before him
Not once
But twice
I am
To old to Fear
To tired for Angst
Poised in Trepidation
In dream I walk
Through a forest glorious
Finding upon a turn
The Demon of the Scale
He feasts
But not on me
I may pass
Unchallenged
Into a field of Light
In a dream I stand
Inside a room
Before a door
I open
Egress blocked
Progress halted
Crowding me
White Bear Cubs
They sought me
Found me
Together we are
Peaceful
I have sought Balance
Have I found it?
≡
Wednesday’s Woodland Walk #8
July 29, 2009Δ
BEAR
Strolling along the side of the road
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Full grown adult
American Black Bear
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I found some smaller tracks up the road
(My hand for comparison)
Δ
Wednesday’s Woodland Walk #7
July 22, 2009◊
Swamp
Gnarled Tree
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Like Cypress knees, but moss
-
Are they dancing?
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The Dreamer Man (part 1)
July 18, 2009Have you seen the news about the photographing of an uncontacted tribe near Peru? Here’s a link. Native people still living in the bush totally unaware of the rest of the world. Talk about Organic, sheesh!
I can’t help but think they have gods to pray to. Gods that look over them from the Heavens & Earth. What respects the people must have? What sacrifices they must bear?
Of course there is the Sun God and the Night God. Do they have a Fire God and a River God? Surely they must. Maybe a God of Harvest or the Hunt and then the Gods of Famine and War? They need these Gods to explain the workings of their world, their environment. All necessary to define their Humanity. The tribes place in the universe.
Their culture outlined by how each event is placed in the hierarchy of life. The culture guiding each person towards their short and long term goals. The goal of survival supreme. The passing of these lessons and ideas so intrinsic to that goal.
At this point I wonder. How do they explain the vapor trails left by passenger jets? Am I crazy? Modern people fly from Argentina northward every day. If everything has a purpose then what purpose do vapor trails have in a primitive culture innocent of Our culture?
So I thought about it and decided that for it to make any sense to them they would…
Θ
…The day was early still. The child rearing men & women were in the forest hunting & gathering food and supplies. The eldest men & women were busy with the daily maintenance within the village. The children to young to be in the forest with their parents were helping the elders in the village. The Dreamer man had just finished his task of stoking the fire and piling up the fire wood for the days use. The days during the Moon of the Fire God were always filled with dry weather. Since the Fire God stole the water from the sky and ground no plant would make flowers or fruit. This is why the Tribe wrapped extra food in leaves and hid them beneath the ground. For the Fire God could not take what he could not find.
The Dreamer Man would then walk through the village collecting all the helpful children. They would all know that today they would go with the Dreamer Man into one of his dreams. His dreams were always of the Gods. The children knew they had to be respectful to the Gods. To do so is to offer a gift to them. The children would think the Gods hungry at this time of day. So each runs first to the edge of the forest to gather seed pods before heading to where the Dreamer Man was heading. As the children hurried to find gifts he went to the Counting Tree and retrieved his drinking gourd. He then went to the creek to fill the gourd before meeting the children at his fire.
When all had gathered. Many smiling faces would become quiet and sit down. The old man tells them to sit together so that their shadows overlap and become one. Then he reminds them that dreams are held inside of their shadows. That each of their shadows is made up of all the dreams they have ever had. But since the Sun God is not allowed to see a dream. Shadows always stand hidden behind you from the Sun.
Then the Dreamer Man still standing looks toward the Sun. He asks permission to take the group away from the Sun and into a dream. While holding the gourd in one hand he covers it with the other. The shadow of his old hand darkens the water within. He then says to the children.
“The Sun can not see my dreams. The Sun now can not see this water. I have put my dream in this water. All of you drink this water. Then all of us will be in my dream.”
He then passes the gourd to the children to drink. One small child is very anxious and gulps at the water. The old man looks to him and says.
“If you drink too much your shadow will see too much of my dreams. Your shadow will forget it belongs to you and might wander away and become lost in my dream. If your dreams are lost to you than you will be lost. Then what will become of you?”
The child, cowed, looks quickly at the gourd then back up at the Dreamer Man. The child says.
“Then I will only drink just enough.”
With some trepidation, and a sheepish smile, the child hands off the gourd to a friend. The man smiles back and waits until they are finished drinking. When the gourd is returned to the Dreamer Man he says to the children.
“Now close your eyes and do not open them until I awake you.”
The children all close their eyes and relax their posture. The Dreamer Man continues.
“Today I dream of the Sky God.”
Θ
The Mantel Cracked
June 20, 2009
Ψ
A timber house built by a calloused hand
The numb hand that built the stone hearth
The foundation of both laid on uneven ground
By a hand too tempted by haste to mind
Too few nails joining plank to beam
Nor enough mortar to bed stone
Too much need makes way for mindless haste
Always the less in building the less in standing
The hand no more careless than its mind
A mind lost in need unaware of spirit
Spiritless homestead where children dare be born
In a home that has need yet not time
No time for nurturing by the light of the hearth
Soulless fire giving no warmth yet stoking want
A fireplace lacking the ability to feed the souls
of the family starving within the uneven home
Leaving only ghosts who wanted for so much
That the Mantel cracked beneath the load
Ψ
Ungreateful tied hands
June 19, 2009Δ
How tranquil the painter upon the hill
Backdrop of Mountains overlooking ocean
Such gifts he is given
-
Standing in tall grass where tall trees once stood
I need to create but this canvass is not mine
These tools are forced on me by bigger people
The frame is cheap pine and weak joined
The canvass unevenly stretched with too little gesso
Two colors on a plastic pallet
One brush
What joy if there is no freedom
So I paint a cave within a Mountain cove
A place to hide
A place to hibernate
-
…and the painter is gone
Δ
My Hobby, TREES
May 20, 2009It’s not a very big thing. At least not now, maybe in a hundred years or so. I adore trees. Native trees. The Wife can vouch for me. I was stratifying seeds in her refrigerator twenty years ago. Then an entire fridge drawer filled with soil & seeds from November to April. Of course the soil could not be used for stratification until I sterilized it. Into the oven at 400 degrees for 1 hour. Have you ever cooked dirt. Guess what that smells like? I did this each year for many years. Now days I just keep a handful of seeds in the fridge if necessary.
Oh, and there were the flower boxes filled with hundreds of seedlings. In the windows, all the windows, INSIDE the apartment from February on. All trees never flowers. Plus, there was only one table in the basement next to the washer & dryer. It, of course, was used for my seed propagation chamber. Laundry had to come upstairs to be folded. All two flights.
That apartment and subsequent houses have many great trees in their yards. Now I work on this house and it’s woods.
I know The Wife loves me, not because she puts up with me but because she hasn’t killed me, yet. What a Doll!
These days I take it easy on her. Stratifying, propagation, & first years growth all happen outside. On her deck. Hey! it’s some progress! You wouldn’t want wee critters getting at my trees now would you?
Last year I collected about 1000 River Birch (Betula nigra) seeds and put them in a pot with soil. Watered them every day and Got 30 plus trees out of it. River Birch have notoriously poor germination. All of which I planted out into my back woods where Winter snows brought down several weak trees.
Except for the smallest one which volunteered to be a off-center Bonsai.
This year I’ve collected Sweet Birch (Betula lenta) & Sycamore (Platanus occidentalis)
Sweet Birch
To date 13 have germinated. If you click on the image below you can count their tiny little leaves.
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Sycamore
I sowed several thousand and maybe a few hundred came up.
Sycamore becomes a very large tree. I’ll plant them along side the creek down in the woods. If I plant 50 maybe 10 will reach maturity. I have no idea what to do with the rest. I guess there may be several Drive-by-tree-plantings in peoples yards. The local park needs some more trees I’ve heard.
I may only get a few dozen Sweet Birch. All of them have homes out back.
I’ll hope to get some Yellow Birch (Betula Allegheniensis) this year as well. I’ll keep you posted. I tried to get American Elm (Ulmus americana) but I missed seed drop. Now I need to hunt for new seedlings if I hope to get any.
The Goal? you ask. Well the back woods was being regularly grazed by cattle thirty years ago. That’s when the land owner cut it down before selling it to developers; hence the handful of houses on this road. The current forest stand is young with only moderate diversity. My Goal is to have every tree native to this area present in these woods. The list may include a hundred tree species or so. I’m still compiling it. Also Native rhododendrons, azaleas, & mountain laurels are included. The Wife, bless her soul, is helping me to include herbaceous species as well. When I’m finished I hope not to be able to see any farther than 20 feet when standing out back.
So I like to watch trees grow..I never said I was Mister Excitement. A hammock stretched between two trees can keep me busy all day.
Systolic Light
May 18, 2009Θ
At rest ◊ No activity ◊ Asleep
Mundane
Conserving energy ◊ Memory off ◊ Disconnected
Empty
-The Flat Line between Beats-
Pulses of energy
Compelling movement
With a drum roll of heartbeats
Generating
Coursing visuals
Dictating pen
Leather bound Tablet
Creating
Hamilcar’s Javelin
Thrown into the void
Sparking upon impact
Illumination
Balance & Peace
Θ
Treeline
January 29, 2009Θ
On the Path
the trail ends
no more steps
On the Mountain
−
Trekking up the Mountain
my mountain
The Path will eventually end
my path
The time comes
my time
To carve new steps
my steps
Or
End all progression
my end
Stand still treelike
my stillness
Cast a shadow down the Mountain
my shadow
Hiding the paths of the journey
my hiding
from the Sun
−
It’s the Treeline
It’s why so many Great Mountains
Are bare at the Summit
Θ
Odd Thought
January 28, 2009◊
Have you ever come down with a case of the giggles at the same time as your significant other is putting the Move on you. It sure explains why you never see baby clowns!
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1983 Beirut barracks bombing
October 23, 2008Today marked the 25th anniversary of the bombing. 241 US service-men were killed. Please take a moment to remember them. Then take a moment to remember all service-men & service-women who have sacrificed their time & lives for us. Then tip one back for those who didn’t come back.
Wednesday’s Woodland Walk
October 1, 2008Θ
I wish I knew what kind of fungi these are
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This one lives in the rotten part of an Oak tree
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Such Grace
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and Elegance
Θ
AAAAAHHHHHRRRRRGGG!
September 9, 2008∞
My daughter is telling me all about which boys she likes the most at school. She’s nine. NINE! I can’t tell which is worse. The fact that she, like my Wife, thinks smelly, hairy boys (well men for the Wife) are a good thing. Or, that at nine the part of her brain that makes you girls like smelly, hairy, loud, obnoxious boys is pumping it’s venom into her blood stream. Don’t you know that we smell our drawers to see if they’re good for one more day!. Don’t you know we depend on you to know better? HOW does my perfect, beautiful, intelligent, & light filled daughter look at a pile of loutish little mud heathens and think,”Oh boy!”? How do any of you do that? Do you have any idea how many guns I need to buy now? And some barbed wire..and some alligators…. Guard dogs. Big ones. Like twenty feet tall or something.
Sigh!
∞
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