Find a place…
Where tall, green trees reach to touch the passing clouds,
Where mountains, like aged sentinels, stand guard in
In snow-capped uniforms,
Where the wind whispers excitedly as it rushes
To spread the gossip of the hillsides to the valleys below,
Where clear streams run through the woodlands,
Bubbling and laughing like children at play.
Set up camp…
And stare wordlessly into your campfire,
As you would into the face of a trusted friend,
The scent of sage and the aroma of fresh coffee
Mix in your nostrils,
As the fire’s warmth seeps into the very fiber of your being,
And your eyes grow tired in its light,
So that you sleep like an infant in the arms of a loving parent.
Awaken at dawn…
And lie quietly for a moment,
Enjoying the snug comfort of your sleeping bag
As the sun that smoldered on the easter horizon now reveals
the secrets that hid in the darkness beyond the fire’s light.
Be subject to the curious scrutiny of a coyote,
To the silent surveillance of a soaring hawk,
To the watchful distrust of a jackrabbit,
To the alert appraisal of a bobcat,
To the detached indifference of a marmot.
To the world that awakens with you,
To the chatter of a Kaibab squirrel,
The scolding of a Sterling jay,
The angry protest of a crow,
The raspy, strident hum of the cicada.
Savor the moment…
And when you realize you are a part of all this,
This place and time will become a part of you,
Woven into the tapestry of your memories,
and the very fabric of your soul.
More by this Author
Fountain pens are considered by many to be anachronistic writing instruments. They require a little care, but they're a very personal statement.
Questions remain concerning an incident in which 22 Marines were killed. Was it worth the risk?
A Marine who was KIA in Viet Nam is remembered by a brother Marine.