welcome to the haikutimes

Issue #177 - Medicine Bow National Forest, Wyoming, July 23-26, 2020

Departure from Boulder - photo by Paige

haiku and photos by jonathan, except where noted

(photo by Phoenix)

without my dear wife
i take the kids backpacking
solitude for her

searching for camp spot
we settle on a rough road
next to a river

packing up wet tents
before the trip even starts
not a great omen

the anxiety
of managing kids’ camping
dropping by the creek

nestled between rocks
pale lavender columbine
swaying in the wind

thursday: a trickle
friday: a few more people
saturday: a crowd

not chopping wood
but hoisting treated water
back up to the camp

tent fabric drying
memories of morning rain

asters’ perfection
the concentrated color
green and magenta

last winters’ snowfield
over icy rivulet
melts in July sun

always so pristine
when visited by so few -
leave no trace behind

embracing chaos:
living with children and pets
or flying to planets

on the second night
we roast old snowmobile parts
in a blazing fire

dad is annoying
making us write a haiku
no, i don’t want to (phoenix)

yesterday I got
twenty thousand steps (phoenix)

looking for the crow
i lean way back and realize
it’s about to rain (packit)

with birds a-chirping
and mosquitoes a-buzzing
yet stillness seeps in (tom)

white granite, lakes, snow
and campfire memories
a perfect weekend (rich)

(photo by Orion)

dad the chuck wagon
never-ending kid hunger
food, food, food, food, food… (group)

some hikers with masks
hop off the trail to allow
the maskless to pass

forgot pot gripper
and along with it, the beer -
pour tea with old gloves

taking a moment
enjoying the perfection of rocks
copper green and red

waiting for our friends
she scans the trail below us
with binoculars

freezing late at night
in my 30-year old bag
that has no more down

wilderness refuge
and the viral pandemic
nowhere to be seen

during pandemic
hikers flock to the foothills
and populate trails

walking the great ridge
from Medicine Bow to camp
Gap lakes far below

liter of whiskey
brought by gregarious youth
with leather jacket

not a one-stick dog
Bruno the Belgian Malinois
wants another toss

jupiter’s three moons
and our own waxing crescent -
where is the comet?

hoping the clouds lift
so we can see the comet -
more logs on the fire

playing hackey sock
because we forgot the sack

campfire ritual
we stand close, warmed by the fire
burning viral fears

leaving camp behind
moving forward with our packs
back to the trailhead

solo/group kukai
jonathan machen