welcome to the haikutimes
Issue #128, Emigrant Wildernes, Stanislaus National Forest and Mendocino, California, July 22-August 2, 2006. After visiting Mendocino with his family, Haikutimes correspondant Jonathan Machen rendezvoused with haiku/backpacking companion Michael Conti to explore the Granite Dome area just north of Yosemite for a seven-day exploration of the Sierra Nevada high country. Photos and drawings by Jonathan except where noted.
rental mini van
slicing through fiery furnace
of central valley
feathers and ferns
shimmering in morning sun
stillness hard at work
108 degrees
inside mendocino home
vultures fly above
the quiet of a hot summer forest
the surf of a cool foggy beach
thirty degrees dividing
locations thirty minutes apart
bulb-ended, horse-whiped seaweed
flailing under foaming surf
young boy squirming in carrier
impervious to the novelty
of the ocean, needing a nap
high pressure zone
california in july
road grasses wither
brighter
than the most
vibrant neon sign
spongy green moss
bats focused on insects
mendocino vultures
focused on chicken
sap-soaked,
insect-protected,
impervious to
the vagaries of high
mountain weather,
cinnamon-scented tree
with chasms of bark
endures season after season
stanislaus river
raging as we hike
quietly up the trail
Alpine glow reddens
A doe follows us
Helping the campsite appear amongst
Granite and majestic trees.
The air cools but the rock I sit on, retains
Her warmth, a reminder
Of that day's heat.
The roar of water took the top
Of our water container, but we will make due
And figure it out.
We are in the wilderness.
So what choice do we have? - Michael
leaving behind
constriction of retail stores
for expansive woods
counter-clockwise
around granite dome
summer pilgrimage
slowpoke evening feet
putting on a heavy backpack
deep green ice pool
vibrant lichen moss
emigrant wilderness
leaving behind - but not forgetting
culture, war, famine
hezbollah, militants,
iraqui/congolese civil war,
escaping the heat
of the central valley
at 7,000 feet
cannot escape
the subtle impacts
of a planet warming
quiet reservoir
under expansive skies
tear drop in valley
reservoir in woods
artificial bathtub
filled to concrete brim
pine cones
like footballs
strewn across the path
relief reservoir
offering no relief
to submerged valley
ocean and desert
sierra crest beckons
murky turquoise depths
reservoir concealing
granite valley floor
time to eat goo
i'm a hummingbird
needing my food
as i travel - laden
with pack heavy
with more goo
the range of light:
true to form
the mountains shimmer
fire blackens
core of a giant ponderosa
still standing strong
stream under snowfield
on granite shelf
we crawl inside
mosquitoes hover at the entrance
high sierra icebox
dripping continuously
water forging a path
through the center
under snow-ice bridge
tenacious green shoots of grass
capturing sun
large black ants
investigate
left-over food on spoon
hiker tells us
to have fun
reminding us
that for six days
no-one will
tell us what to do
being eaten alive
by mosquitoes in the high sierra,
listening to the water,
watching the alpine-glow gracing
surrounding peaks,
hiking with a heavy pack
on dusty trails peppered
with buzzing flies
and evidence of horses,
memory sparked with the thought
of burros that used to
carry our gear and eat
all the toilet paper:
a day in the mountains.
looking at skyline
through mosquito netting -
hazy yet romantic
high pressure zone
parked over state
when will it cool down?
spouting in an arc
water from deep under rock
discovered by birds
hesitating
over chasm
he takes the plunge
liquid blue life-vein
surface marked with ribbons flowing
from lake to forest
fires in distance
patches of snow and high lakes
yosemite burns
wind
mosquitoes at 10,000 feet
distant fire plumes
penstemon, flax and lupine
basaltic rock and granite
mix at summit
michael
in rain gear and netting
on fine summer evening
vampires out at night
dusk brings them forth
to suck
yellow from cliffs
blue from the sky
a shimmering palette
alpenglow
touches every facet of granite
snow turns pink
end of the day
high sierra skyline
the last light comforts
magical
yet buggy
this is reality
sketching iceland lake
on top of the granite dome:
my life is complete
cascade
on distant cliff
water at my feet
waiting in hiding
in picture-perfect green meadow:
swarm of skeeters
large tree fallen
timber split over granite
no witness
from what i can tell
there is no salt lick
at salt lick meadows
bleached white log in lake
lying in the reflection
of green trees above
shooting stars
in marshy galaxy
shining near the trail
multiple cascades
of water on pure granite
forest birds singing
forest fire distant
smoke fills the valley
thunderhead rises
bats flit
above tree silhouettes
crescent moon rises
saucer-shaped leaves
sporting purple teardrops
delicate sierra blossoms
from inside the tent
we can now fully relax
insect swarm thwarted
stillness
of mountain morning
before tourist plane
iridescent blue
feathers shimmer on the ground
detached but vibrant
the long history of
humans and the woods:
well-crafted trail
releasing it's seed
now trampled on trail
mackerel clouds above
lenticular in distance
wind on my shoulder
granite shoreline
beachcombers find only trout
nibbling surface
slapping at nothing
deeply conditioned
to mosquito presence
at every camp
large, black prowling ants
checking our debris
waves of gentle rain
washing smoky afternoon
into cool evening
two worlds mingle
white granite, red volcanic
pungent mint and sage
on every second step
a line of rock
marking the path
of the horses' gait
teachers come in many flavors.
witness the lowly mosquito,
breeding innocently
in high mountain marshes,
their season of growth
coming to fruition as winter snows melt
into picturesque pools,
relentlessly and continuously
attacking all warm-blooded creatures in their midst,
turning a sunset or sunrise
into an impressionistic painting
through the fog of netting,
turning the process of rolling up a tent
into a hand flailing, back-slapping
psychometric-wilderness dance.
what lies unnoticed
deeply noticed by some
morning senyru
catch any fish?
fathers and sons behind gaucho
on weekend horse trip
sitting in smoke
he enjoys mosquito fire
relief from bugs
green-streaked granite
smoothed from glaciers of old
far above camp
maelstrom
of mosquitoes
driving us mad
miles of granite
a bee on a flower
horse pees in the stream
sixth day on the trail
michael now proudly sporting
salt and pepper beard
and myriad encounter
reflecting one source
highlights of his trip:
the absence of mosquitoes
combined with beauty
solid white ingots
of white granite
embedded in pink
a shear of rock
plunges down
into the snowfield
the more you sit
the more you notice
so the more you sit
my mind wanders
early morning light
filters through trees
conglomerate rock
ancient river sands and stones
welded together
oversized ant
crawling on top of sleeping bag
impervious to whack
mountains are
serene and demanding
lovely but not for
the faint of heart
granite soothes the soul
yet tears the sole.
snow brings contrast
to rocks and sky
yet feeds mosquito pools.
the sense of expansiveness
thrives in light and shadow
on either side of the valley,
yet turns to constriction
after an uncomfortable
night in the tent.
still, the sum effect
of such contrasts is
invigoration and
aesthetic refreshment,
perspective on one's life,
tuning into the true source
of nature; weather and the cycles
of the day, leaving behind
the human struggle
to make peace with others.
we backpack in vast spaces
as innocent people
die around the world,
nationalistic agendas
and the lack of space
divorcing those linked to a common region
from a peaceful destiny.
glacial deposit
granite in the midst
of volcanic shelf
rental mini van
slicing through fiery furnace
of central valley
feathers and ferns
shimmering in morning sun
stillness hard at work
108 degrees
inside mendocino home
vultures fly above
the quiet of a hot summer forest
the surf of a cool foggy beach
thirty degrees dividing
locations thirty minutes apart
bulb-ended, horse-whiped seaweed
flailing under foaming surf
young boy squirming in carrier
impervious to the novelty
of the ocean, needing a nap
high pressure zone
california in july
road grasses wither
brighter
than the most
vibrant neon sign
spongy green moss
bats focused on insects
mendocino vultures
focused on chicken
sap-soaked,
insect-protected,
impervious to
the vagaries of high
mountain weather,
cinnamon-scented tree
with chasms of bark
endures season after season
stanislaus river
raging as we hike
quietly up the trail
Alpine glow reddens
A doe follows us
Helping the campsite appear amongst
Granite and majestic trees.
The air cools but the rock I sit on, retains
Her warmth, a reminder
Of that day's heat.
The roar of water took the top
Of our water container, but we will make due
And figure it out.
We are in the wilderness.
So what choice do we have? - Michael
leaving behind
constriction of retail stores
for expansive woods
counter-clockwise
around granite dome
summer pilgrimage
slowpoke evening feet
putting on a heavy backpack
deep green ice pool
vibrant lichen moss
emigrant wilderness
leaving behind - but not forgetting
culture, war, famine
hezbollah, militants,
iraqui/congolese civil war,
escaping the heat
of the central valley
at 7,000 feet
cannot escape
the subtle impacts
of a planet warming
quiet reservoir
under expansive skies
tear drop in valley
reservoir in woods
artificial bathtub
filled to concrete brim
pine cones
like footballs
strewn across the path
relief reservoir
offering no relief
to submerged valley
Photograph by Michael Conti
perched betweenocean and desert
sierra crest beckons
murky turquoise depths
reservoir concealing
granite valley floor
time to eat goo
i'm a hummingbird
needing my food
as i travel - laden
with pack heavy
with more goo
the range of light:
true to form
the mountains shimmer
fire blackens
core of a giant ponderosa
still standing strong
stream under snowfield
on granite shelf
we crawl inside
mosquitoes hover at the entrance
high sierra icebox
dripping continuously
water forging a path
through the center
under snow-ice bridge
tenacious green shoots of grass
capturing sun
large black ants
investigate
left-over food on spoon
hiker tells us
to have fun
reminding us
that for six days
no-one will
tell us what to do
being eaten alive
by mosquitoes in the high sierra,
listening to the water,
watching the alpine-glow gracing
surrounding peaks,
hiking with a heavy pack
on dusty trails peppered
with buzzing flies
and evidence of horses,
memory sparked with the thought
of burros that used to
carry our gear and eat
all the toilet paper:
a day in the mountains.
looking at skyline
through mosquito netting -
hazy yet romantic
high pressure zone
parked over state
when will it cool down?
spouting in an arc
water from deep under rock
discovered by birds
hesitating
over chasm
he takes the plunge
liquid blue life-vein
surface marked with ribbons flowing
from lake to forest
fires in distance
patches of snow and high lakes
yosemite burns
wind
mosquitoes at 10,000 feet
distant fire plumes
penstemon, flax and lupine
basaltic rock and granite
mix at summit
michael
in rain gear and netting
on fine summer evening
vampires out at night
dusk brings them forth
to suck
yellow from cliffs
blue from the sky
a shimmering palette
alpenglow
touches every facet of granite
snow turns pink
end of the day
high sierra skyline
the last light comforts
magical
yet buggy
this is reality
sketching iceland lake
on top of the granite dome:
my life is complete
cascade
on distant cliff
water at my feet
waiting in hiding
in picture-perfect green meadow:
swarm of skeeters
large tree fallen
timber split over granite
no witness
from what i can tell
there is no salt lick
at salt lick meadows
bleached white log in lake
lying in the reflection
of green trees above
shooting stars
in marshy galaxy
shining near the trail
multiple cascades
of water on pure granite
forest birds singing
forest fire distant
smoke fills the valley
thunderhead rises
bats flit
above tree silhouettes
crescent moon rises
saucer-shaped leaves
sporting purple teardrops
delicate sierra blossoms
from inside the tent
we can now fully relax
insect swarm thwarted
stillness
of mountain morning
before tourist plane
iridescent blue
feathers shimmer on the ground
detached but vibrant
the long history of
humans and the woods:
well-crafted trail
drawing by Michael Conti
dry, sappy pineconereleasing it's seed
now trampled on trail
mackerel clouds above
lenticular in distance
wind on my shoulder
granite shoreline
beachcombers find only trout
nibbling surface
slapping at nothing
deeply conditioned
to mosquito presence
at every camp
large, black prowling ants
checking our debris
waves of gentle rain
washing smoky afternoon
into cool evening
two worlds mingle
white granite, red volcanic
pungent mint and sage
on every second step
a line of rock
marking the path
of the horses' gait
teachers come in many flavors.
witness the lowly mosquito,
breeding innocently
in high mountain marshes,
their season of growth
coming to fruition as winter snows melt
into picturesque pools,
relentlessly and continuously
attacking all warm-blooded creatures in their midst,
turning a sunset or sunrise
into an impressionistic painting
through the fog of netting,
turning the process of rolling up a tent
into a hand flailing, back-slapping
psychometric-wilderness dance.
what lies unnoticed
deeply noticed by some
morning senyru
catch any fish?
fathers and sons behind gaucho
on weekend horse trip
sitting in smoke
he enjoys mosquito fire
relief from bugs
green-streaked granite
smoothed from glaciers of old
far above camp
maelstrom
of mosquitoes
driving us mad
miles of granite
a bee on a flower
horse pees in the stream
sixth day on the trail
michael now proudly sporting
salt and pepper beard
photo of Jon Jumping by Michael Conti
every forest nuanceand myriad encounter
reflecting one source
highlights of his trip:
the absence of mosquitoes
combined with beauty
solid white ingots
of white granite
embedded in pink
a shear of rock
plunges down
into the snowfield
the more you sit
the more you notice
so the more you sit
my mind wanders
early morning light
filters through trees
conglomerate rock
ancient river sands and stones
welded together
oversized ant
crawling on top of sleeping bag
impervious to whack
mountains are
serene and demanding
lovely but not for
the faint of heart
granite soothes the soul
yet tears the sole.
snow brings contrast
to rocks and sky
yet feeds mosquito pools.
the sense of expansiveness
thrives in light and shadow
on either side of the valley,
yet turns to constriction
after an uncomfortable
night in the tent.
still, the sum effect
of such contrasts is
invigoration and
aesthetic refreshment,
perspective on one's life,
tuning into the true source
of nature; weather and the cycles
of the day, leaving behind
the human struggle
to make peace with others.
we backpack in vast spaces
as innocent people
die around the world,
nationalistic agendas
and the lack of space
divorcing those linked to a common region
from a peaceful destiny.
glacial deposit
granite in the midst
of volcanic shelf
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen