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In early July I went backpacking in the Weminuche Wilderness in the San Juan Mountains in Colorado.  This was Plan B, as New Mexico was closed due to fire and our original destination in the Pecos Wilderness was closed out. I wrote a couple of poems on the trip - here they are.  And if you are interested in seeing some beautiful mountain scenery, you an see a slideshow of our trip at

http://www.flickr.com/photos/30759355@N08/sets/72157627240939632/

Old Men in the Mountains

 

Moving slowly, stopping

often.

The rocks, trees, flowers

a balm for aching joints,

short breath.

 

This may be the last time.

 

There will be a last time

for that mountain blue sky

the solitude of tall trees

the hard work of getting here

the camaraderie

the silence of awe

the  rumble of snow melt

the taste of winds born

in hidden places.

We Cannot Remain Here

 

There is no abiding

on the mountain pass

above the trees

among rocks and snow.

Our time passes swiftly,

our stay here is brief.

Mountains rise up

and are worn down.

Shouldering packs

we walk

down, down, down,

knowing  

we are kissed with life

and death.

q

There is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to other animals as well as humans, it is all a sham. 

-Anna Sewell, writer (1820-1878)

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As imperceptible as Grief

The Summer lapsed away –

Too imperceptible at last

To seem like Perfidy –

A Quietness distilled

As Twilight long begun,

Or Nature spending with herself

Sequestered Afternoon –

The Dusk drew earlier in –

The Morning foreign shone –

A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,

As Guest, that would be gone –

And thus, without a Wing

Or service of a Keel

Our Summer made her light escape

Into the Beautiful.

Emily Dickenson

q

A mature person is one who does not think only in absolutes, who is able to be objective even when deeply stirred emotionally, who has learned that there is both good and bad in all people and in all things, and who walks humbly and deals charitably with the circumstances of life, knowing that in this world no one is all knowing and therefore all of us need both love and charity. 

-Eleanor Roosevelt, diplomat and writer (1884-1962)