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Issue #64, Maroon Bells Wilderness, June, 2003. David Teitler, Paige Wild and Jonathan Machen explore another corner of the Maroon Bells. Haiku and photographs by jonathan, with a few additional haiku from Dave and Paige.




small hail on the trail
blue lupine, red columbine
yellow arnica

summer plants dripping
from glorious june showers,
sun warms muddy trail




into wilderness
i depart, leaving sick cat
behind in boulder

walking on a trail
leaving behind memories
of a busy week




reducing my thoughts
to a pool of pine-tree
and hailstone water

pine needle pond scum
mixed with hail and horse manure
dampens leather boots




what is wilderness?
the matrix inverted
we look for mushrooms

walking through aspens
and thickets of blue lupine
under thunder skies




evidence of squirrel
seeds neatly arranged on log
and center of path

wet, wet walk in woods
water whistles in the wind
whipping windbreakers




we are almost there
where is there, spoke the bear?
AAH! i'm outa here! dave

slipping up switchbacks
mud, and songbirds warbling
immune system good




always suprised
to come a cross a view like this
have to work to find it paige

humans examine
wet brown stain on forest floor
while taking breather




surrounded by fog
cradled by arms and the mist
on this mountain perch

crossing snowmass creek
icy cold on sandalled toes
under threat of rain




under mt. daly
snowmelt flows in the sunshine
and shuts down at night
(call the supah)

spider scurrying
on pink granite in the sun
before the hailstorm




blizzard at solstice
high country lightning and hail
who's gonna dance naked?

blizzard at solstice
dave says, 'i am the great stag'
testicles recede




blizzard at solstice
even shrinking testicles
deter not the stag

despite his prowess
the great stag does not condone
apple-swapping kiss




snow darkens june skies
building to a frenzied pitch
of white-out at noon

multiple snow storms
grace the high country in june
my poncho on, off




camp robbers await
sleepy hikers' evening rest
for forgotten scraps

the weather - alive
from a lovers' still morning
half moon high above




june thaw of tundra
reveals small shoots, purple and green
young plants just budding

dave wonders aloud,
'why such bone-whitened snail shells
here in the high peaks'?




my small camping stove
responds to intuition
rather than guile

though it is but june
and snow only just melted
living green abounds




good morning, campers!
defiant chipmunk chirping
at snoozing humans

green eyes beaming
under a pine tree ceiling
gold light in her hair




catching the thermals
both raven and sparrow
above snow gully

summer-warmed snowfield
i walk with gaiters ready
for sinking surprise




burrowing creatures
make the snow-moistened tundra
loamy and lumpy

robin zips through camp
leaving in it's wake, a breeze
and one more haiku... dave




those damn misquitos!
have to get the DEET out
they can't have my blood... paige

elizabeth and shawn
being much love into my life
thank you very much... dave




after three mornings
you just have to take a whiff
where is the shower?

our trail is made up
of decomposing matter
flattened by footprints... dave




dave, lost in the moss
of a dead green stump garden
with tiny mushrooms

pollen-ringed icebergs
yellow, edging white on blue
floating on moon lake




on a clear june day
when the storms have all blown by
we follow elk tracks

a crystal clear sky
moon lake icebergs reflecting
puffy clouds above




nothing less than bliss
to be at icy moon lake
on a hot june day

in all directions
vistas overpowering
distance relative




in old growth forest
mushroom caps cling to wet stumps
tree decomposes

redcones on tall trees
releasing golden pollen
in the morning sun




campsite by clark peak
i watch the jagged shoulder
catch the day's last light

meadow plants unite!
gather in strength after snow
has melted away




shake the pollen from the pack
now it's time for another hack.... dave

to our great concern
clouds of pollen drift
over our breakfast




high arc of the sun
one day after the solstice
pollen drifts from cones

mid morning, late june
my companions and i walk
through mountain meadows




maroon bells-snowmass
just a signifier
for something larger

aromatic blue
of lupine under silver
stands of aspen trees




hardly noticing
the roots that bind the aspen
i see single trees




aspen and lupine
the scent and the sight of both
the song of a bird




beaming from mountaintops:
aspens in sunlight
and dappled shadow




nettles stinging knees
of unwanted visitor
voracious small plant




nettles sting my knees
i bless the intelligence
of this crafty plant




nettles on my ass
maybe the perfect bathroom
was not so perfect




young ranger walks by
with a shovel in his hand
we stop for a chat





solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen