Keith and Leslie went into Tassajara and out today. Even though we were both here during the Marble Cone fire, seeing the hillsides so gray and bare was disturbing. We know that rebirth happens when the spring rains come (hopefully gentle and not 100-year storms like in 1977), but
it is still sad.
The air was quite smokey because there are back burns happening in Carmel Valley and the fire itself is working it's way down Miller Canyon. There also seemed to still be fire happening south of Tassajara.
A lot of the trees in Tassajara that seem fine have leaves that are singed or turning brown, but if you don't look too far up the hills or at the fire equipment that is still laying around, in most places Tassajara looks just the same.
More tomorrow. Goodnight.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
3 comments:
Leaves
sometimes,
at midday, when
the warm Autumn sky
restless and golden
pours down through
a reckless gentle
rustling of Oak leaves
and that sound
~ you know ~
of some sort
of transition leaves you
with a sadness
hard to pinpoint:
like what exactly
is that shade of blue
that bleeds from dusk
to midnight, appearing
suddenly as darkness
as this vast
illuminated ocean
of stars and galaxies ~
all our hopes
and aspirations now
so clearly visible
and we ~
we gasp at the vision
of such infinite
possibility …
Elizabeth,
You are posting some very beautiful poems. Thank you very much.
I concur! Elizabeth, I love your poetry. You have a special talent of being able to paint a scene with emotions.
Post a Comment