welcome to the haikutimes
Issue #137, Rito Alto Lake, Sangre De Christo Wilderness, Colorado; Jonathan goes backpacking with Michael Conti, David Teitler and Cass Adams. Photos and haiku by Jonathan with contributions from David Teitler, July 11-17, 2007. Go here to see full set of photos on Flickr. Also jump to "Song for Nicholas" from here.
Sangre De Christo July 07
yucca, scarlet gilia
swift-moving rito alto creek
can't improve on that
starting up trail
mind still not fully at ease
free from conditioning
free to hike the trail
yet bound to my hefty pack
can't escape bondage
thousands of miles
from the nearest ocean
bliss in damp forest
paintbrush
appears with salisfy
at nine thousand feet
the theme of conditioning
and that of letting go
foremost on our minds
so small under
our own power in
vast mountains
rachel and heather
brandishing park service saw
tax dollars at work
not fully aware
of the daunting task before them
rangers with saws
fly in flower
poop on trail
i plod on and on
raven reunion
as if they liked cackling
over din of creek
purple protector
monkshood over six feet high
observing our hike
first thistle
michael ahead
meditating
reeds
among the oldest plants
here with me today
septugenarians
in jeep with florida plates
jump out and zoom off
windblown, fallen trees
impeding forward progress
white moth dances over all
larkspur, jacob's ladder
columbine, raspberries gone
whipple's penstemon
the only trash
around here
are dead blossoms
bear scat
in black clumps
hibernation dump?
gnarled roots and soil
peeled from boulder after storm
like band-aid from skin
sucking water
from plastic hookah-like tube
refreshing dry throat
it's a dark day:
san isabel lake
a teardrop below
cass plays harmonica
the sound bounces
from ridge to ridge
conglomerate
rock wave, welded stones
frozen in arc
camping consciousness
rusty from city living
faded like primrose
sky pilot
and columbine
a cul-de-sac of beauty
overcast sky
flowers glow from within
rock wall shades thistle
cemented into place
round white boulder
hovers high in cliff
delicately held
tooth falls out of marmot skull
on knife-edge ridge
sloping green sidewalk
descending into basin
of mas alto lake
several bounces later
cass's green water bottle
rests far below
marsh marigolds
growing right in the marsh
just like the book says
thistles
drooping under the weight
of their own progeny
penstemon orgy
next to clear water flowing
from enduring snow
scooby-doo rod
he reels in four trout
from lake after hailstorm
symbiosis
of alpine forget-me-nots
and moss campion
dont forget bluebells
high altitude
aromatic assault
rock tundra garden
we shelter in evergreens
and talk about sex
waiting out the rain
new technology
to purify our water:
ultraviolet light
ultraviolet glow--
sterilize the water
not yourself
elk highway
disparate paths merging
under evergreens
after the rainstorm
musty smell of sky pilot
holding my attention
like dough unmixed
then frozen into place
conglomerate rock
first subsumed
under weight and pressure,
then flung far from cliff
coyotes howlin'
fish cookin'
fire burnin'
squirrel mad at me
chattering upside down
for soiling his camp
fishing with scobby-doo rod
no frills needed
just hungry fish
horn from canadensis
frayed and bleached in elk dugout
relic of the wild
iridescent fish scales
overlapping white circles
like chinese roof tiles
words can't describe
the simple act
of walking through the woods
boulders fused
ancient cement
among wet new grass
mountain rainstorm
making for lush
alpine paradise
at 136900
butterflies
fluttering madly
creeping with care
to capture image of butterfly
oops! too late
alpine bumblebee
motor hum of wings
circles around me
flies now
just as busy
as the bees
shooting stars
alight
next to waterfall
fish tripe creekside
while we dine on delicate
insect-fed flesh
keeping watchful eye
marmot makes sure we don't eat
the yummiest plants
flat mound:
michael finds
this place profound!
as i open haiku book
lightning flashes red
thunder follows
birds sing
evening rain and thunder
fills ancient valley
mama bear descends
leaving a trail
of peppered paw prints
four huddled hombres
tell tales of faded glory
waiting out the rain
clouds of repellent
float peacefully
up mountain valley
strong scent of elk
he said they spotted
a herd of seventy
seven ptarmigan chicks
hiding in high, wind-blown rocks
scurrying after mom
caterpillar dangling
from invisible thread
i notice too late
an ecosystem
experienced best by foot
he feels the mountain
voices of the creek
mountain speaking in tongues
ravens call above
catching myself saying
the names of the plants
before i really see them
though we are quiet
there are things that are more so
out here in the woods
every year
the gear gets better
but the knees do not
forest grows dark
trees stand silent
mosquito pounces
a flurry of flies
disturbed from sunning slumber
on oak-leaf terrace
four men with children
not backpacking with children
having a manly time
human--pink, naked
dipping into mountain vein
of icy water
rarefied atmosphere
of moisture and altitude
creates alpine garden
SONG FOR NICHOLAS
this is a song for nicholas
mountains and canyons he roams
this is a song for nicholas
who happens to be back at home
taking care of his beloved wife
in the hospital over night
do you recall when we were here before?
the mountains and the canyons
held you in their sway--close your eyes,
you can see it coming back to you again
this is a song for the four of us
four brothers out in the woods
this is a song for the four of us
four brothers showing the years
we've known each other for a very long time
a little water under the bridge, my oh my
want to be in nature, sleeping under the stars
the american west -- our great backyard
close your eyes
you can see it comin' back to you again
Sangre De Christo July 07
yucca, scarlet gilia
swift-moving rito alto creek
can't improve on that
starting up trail
mind still not fully at ease
free from conditioning
free to hike the trail
yet bound to my hefty pack
can't escape bondage
thousands of miles
from the nearest ocean
bliss in damp forest
paintbrush
appears with salisfy
at nine thousand feet
the theme of conditioning
and that of letting go
foremost on our minds
so small under
our own power in
vast mountains
rachel and heather
brandishing park service saw
tax dollars at work
not fully aware
of the daunting task before them
rangers with saws
fly in flower
poop on trail
i plod on and on
raven reunion
as if they liked cackling
over din of creek
purple protector
monkshood over six feet high
observing our hike
first thistle
michael ahead
meditating
reeds
among the oldest plants
here with me today
septugenarians
in jeep with florida plates
jump out and zoom off
windblown, fallen trees
impeding forward progress
white moth dances over all
larkspur, jacob's ladder
columbine, raspberries gone
whipple's penstemon
the only trash
around here
are dead blossoms
bear scat
in black clumps
hibernation dump?
gnarled roots and soil
peeled from boulder after storm
like band-aid from skin
sucking water
from plastic hookah-like tube
refreshing dry throat
it's a dark day:
san isabel lake
a teardrop below
cass plays harmonica
the sound bounces
from ridge to ridge
conglomerate
rock wave, welded stones
frozen in arc
camping consciousness
rusty from city living
faded like primrose
sky pilot
and columbine
a cul-de-sac of beauty
overcast sky
flowers glow from within
rock wall shades thistle
cemented into place
round white boulder
hovers high in cliff
delicately held
tooth falls out of marmot skull
on knife-edge ridge
sloping green sidewalk
descending into basin
of mas alto lake
several bounces later
cass's green water bottle
rests far below
marsh marigolds
growing right in the marsh
just like the book says
thistles
drooping under the weight
of their own progeny
penstemon orgy
next to clear water flowing
from enduring snow
scooby-doo rod
he reels in four trout
from lake after hailstorm
symbiosis
of alpine forget-me-nots
and moss campion
dont forget bluebells
high altitude
aromatic assault
rock tundra garden
we shelter in evergreens
and talk about sex
waiting out the rain
new technology
to purify our water:
ultraviolet light
ultraviolet glow--
sterilize the water
not yourself
elk highway
disparate paths merging
under evergreens
after the rainstorm
musty smell of sky pilot
holding my attention
like dough unmixed
then frozen into place
conglomerate rock
first subsumed
under weight and pressure,
then flung far from cliff
coyotes howlin'
fish cookin'
fire burnin'
squirrel mad at me
chattering upside down
for soiling his camp
fishing with scobby-doo rod
no frills needed
just hungry fish
horn from canadensis
frayed and bleached in elk dugout
relic of the wild
iridescent fish scales
overlapping white circles
like chinese roof tiles
words can't describe
the simple act
of walking through the woods
boulders fused
ancient cement
among wet new grass
mountain rainstorm
making for lush
alpine paradise
at 136900
butterflies
fluttering madly
creeping with care
to capture image of butterfly
oops! too late
alpine bumblebee
motor hum of wings
circles around me
flies now
just as busy
as the bees
shooting stars
alight
next to waterfall
fish tripe creekside
while we dine on delicate
insect-fed flesh
keeping watchful eye
marmot makes sure we don't eat
the yummiest plants
flat mound:
michael finds
this place profound!
as i open haiku book
lightning flashes red
thunder follows
birds sing
evening rain and thunder
fills ancient valley
mama bear descends
leaving a trail
of peppered paw prints
four huddled hombres
tell tales of faded glory
waiting out the rain
clouds of repellent
float peacefully
up mountain valley
strong scent of elk
he said they spotted
a herd of seventy
seven ptarmigan chicks
hiding in high, wind-blown rocks
scurrying after mom
caterpillar dangling
from invisible thread
i notice too late
an ecosystem
experienced best by foot
he feels the mountain
voices of the creek
mountain speaking in tongues
ravens call above
catching myself saying
the names of the plants
before i really see them
though we are quiet
there are things that are more so
out here in the woods
every year
the gear gets better
but the knees do not
forest grows dark
trees stand silent
mosquito pounces
a flurry of flies
disturbed from sunning slumber
on oak-leaf terrace
four men with children
not backpacking with children
having a manly time
human--pink, naked
dipping into mountain vein
of icy water
rarefied atmosphere
of moisture and altitude
creates alpine garden
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SONG FOR NICHOLAS
this is a song for nicholas
mountains and canyons he roams
this is a song for nicholas
who happens to be back at home
taking care of his beloved wife
in the hospital over night
do you recall when we were here before?
the mountains and the canyons
held you in their sway--close your eyes,
you can see it coming back to you again
this is a song for the four of us
four brothers out in the woods
this is a song for the four of us
four brothers showing the years
we've known each other for a very long time
a little water under the bridge, my oh my
want to be in nature, sleeping under the stars
the american west -- our great backyard
close your eyes
you can see it comin' back to you again
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen