Simple Gifts and Magical Moments

The air hangs heavy And my body aches With sympathy. The pressure creates Intense desire For release. The tension is tangible. Sweat clings to my body. The clouds hang bloated Making the day Dim and uncertain. My skin prickles, A shuddering breath Then tumultuous rain. Release comes. With a violent clash Of light and sound

I'd been waiting for the flood waters recede. That may conjure images of flooded towns and deep water. It was nothing so dramatic. The river didn't flood anything beside my small, local trail. As sumer struggled to arrive, the snow pack, double what was normal, was melting. I visit this area regularly. I've been to Yellowstone, Crater Lake and on many wilderness excursions. I suspect some of my deepest memories, will be of "my place". Schmoozer, the Wonder Pup, and I, arrived to grass smell is so strong I could almost taste it. The first meadow had just been mowed. Schmoo and I walked along the edge of the meadow, captivated by the change and a big mountain beaver trundled by. We cpntinued to the back meadow. It's such a peaceful place with the open field, bird song and view of Mount Si but a sense of adventure crept in. For weeks now the end of trail has been full of water because of the amazing snow melt. Water slowly receding, the flooded trail had beco...

At a safe distance She stood and watched The waterfall pulse With life and energy. The spray, slipped Around and in, Damp inside Drab clothes, Isolating her In gray mist. Water punished Rock and earth, Ripping away bits. Her body thrummed. The power, Insistent and restless, Pushed branches, Her hair and clothes. She shivered, Still and silent As the Falls spoke Her screams.

The sun slaps, Morning bright, Against the side Of the mountain. Where green trees Normally drape, Heavy and dull, Across rounded shoulders, Champagne colored veils Shimmer and entice. Flashing her sinuous flanks, The mountain stretches. The sun dances away, Taking away glory As morning moves to day.

Today, I volunteered to help set up a tent city at it's new location at my synagogue. This is an organized homeless encampment that travels around;  mostly to churches  Moving Tent City requires a host of people willing to do hard work .We were hauling stuff like pallets, plywood, tents and boxes. Some of the people involved  were residents of Tent City and some were volunteers. Yes, you could recognize some as either residents or volunteers but labor is an amazing equalizer. For many it was really unclear what label applied. Some people were from churches, some from the synagogue, some were not native English speakers, some were young and others very old. We were all just people working hard together. You would hear these conversations, where a resident realized they were talking to someone who was a volunteer. I heard several people say thank you, but then the conversation would move on. I was talking to someone who I thought was a volunteer and turned ou...

You learn to recognize her moods. Sometimes she is soft and gentle. Her touch slides across you, Soothing and calm. She sings a lullaby, As she wraps around you, Covering you with with her embrace. Other times she sparkles. Her voice chortles. Her dance is sinuous and enticing, But her coolness makes you wary, And you keep your distance. Today she is swollen and heavy. She wraps herself in veiling fog, But demands attention. She slaps you with cold power, Barely contained. No one can ignore her.