Monday, November 27, 2006

November camp

we wake slowly
emerge from our bundled nest to
breathe in the chill before
the sun breaches the ridgeline

high on the hill, leaves
lie still under
the first slight snow that
softens all contours

smoke from the fire
swirls in slow circles

leafless branches gently scratch the
flat, pale grey sky

Click on the photo to see a larger version. It's worth it.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

The sky had an itch.

11/27/2006 6:12 PM  
Blogger Pat Paulk said...

Beeeeeeeautiful!!!!! Such a great way to spend Thanksgiving.

11/27/2006 6:33 PM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

It seems well worth it to abandon your roof if it leads to poetry like this.

11/27/2006 6:37 PM  
Blogger Bitterroot said...

I was hoping to see a photo of where you were! Rugged country.

Your poem shows beautifully how intensely alive an experience like this makes you feel

11/27/2006 9:21 PM  
Blogger Sky said...

Pilgrims at the river, drinking in winter's beautiful bounty. A lovely Thanksgiving, indeed. Thanks for sharing.

11/28/2006 12:58 AM  
Blogger charlie said...

Oh, brrrrrrrr, switch on that central heating!

11/28/2006 1:01 AM  
Blogger Lee said...


11/28/2006 3:04 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

beautiful.. i like the spontaneity in your poems!

11/28/2006 3:18 AM  
Blogger Lori Witzel said...

Glad you're back! Man o man, that pewter stream. Lovely.

Also like the poem-bit about smoke swirling in slow circles, alliteratively spot-on. Must have been a nice windless moment, as compared to my last campfire activities which basted me in smoke no matter where I went to sit.


11/28/2006 4:06 AM  
Blogger robin andrea said...

Looks like a beautiful place for Thanksgiving. I can't imagine a scene less like the classic Norman Rockwell. Truly spectacular place to give thanks.

11/28/2006 8:44 AM  
Blogger Fred Garber said...

You capture that moment perfectly!

11/28/2006 9:44 AM  
Blogger la vie en rose said...

this, the words and the pic, perfectly captures the way nature can be so bewitching...i just want to stare at the pic all day...

11/28/2006 11:48 AM  
Blogger Dave said...

Nice looking creek. I take it you weren't trout fishing, though?

11/28/2006 12:40 PM  
Blogger polona said...

sounds like a wonderful way to spend a holiday.
and that photo... something oddly familiar about it...

11/28/2006 12:46 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Zhoen, maybe the same itch we did?

Pat, thanks, it really was.

Patry, thank you very much.

Bitterroot, it does.

Sky, thanks for looking in.

Charlie, we had a canvas wall tent with a woodstove plus a campfire. Not to mention warm bodies. There was enough heat. ;-)

Lee, thanks!

Sharanya, I'm glad my poems come across that way.

Lori, the wind at night certainly blew the smoke and sparks about. But the morning air was relatively still.

Robin Andrea, it was a great place to practice gratitude.

Fred, thanks. Some poems seem to be message poems, and some to be moment poems.

Michelle, me too. I keep going back to look again — and I was there!

Dave, that ain't no creek. That's the South Fork of the Salmon River in the fall. Check out that high water line! No trout fishing this time, but folks were fishing for steelhead. I don't care to get wet this time of year.

Polona, "something oddly familiar" — isn't that funny how that works? ;-)

11/28/2006 12:59 PM  
Anonymous marja-leena said...

My comment yesterday seems to have disappeared, so belatedly want to say again how fantastic this scene is (ice too?!) and glad you had a wonderful break!

11/28/2006 1:56 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Thanks, Marja-Leena! No ice, it wasn't that cold. Just the reflection of a grey sky on broad water.

11/28/2006 2:04 PM  
Blogger MB said...

All, Dave has explained to me that in his part of the country a "creek" is bigger than a "fork" — It seems to be the opposite here, where the term "fork" is commonly used to describe a significant arm of a river. (Notice I avoided using the term "branch" lest I further confuse things!)

11/28/2006 2:23 PM  
Blogger Endment said...

Oh - how your photo makes my feet itch to be out walking :)
Thought that might be the Salmon River --- beautiful!

11/28/2006 3:52 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Endment, thanks! It is indeed the Salmon River (though it's the Main, not the South Fork as I said earlier).

11/29/2006 12:12 AM  
Blogger leslee said...

Nice poem. I haven't camped out in many years. Morning is such a joy - the fresh air, woodsmoke, everything so new.

11/29/2006 4:11 AM  
Blogger MB said...

Leslee, thanks. The irony, I suppose, is that I'm not much of a morning person. It is a beautiful time of day, though, I wholeheartedly agree.

11/29/2006 8:21 AM  
Blogger Tongue in Cheek Antiques said...

I can smell the fire and hear the water babble...welcome back!!

11/29/2006 11:12 AM  
Blogger mermaid said...

It appears that you have softened, too.

11/29/2006 2:40 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Corey, thank you!

Mermaid, one thing wild places are good for is getting out some of the tightness.

11/29/2006 5:34 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

I love morning less in the winter-it's just the darkness gets to me-at least I don't live at the pole where night is six months long-lovely poem

12/06/2006 10:32 AM  

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