Tag Archives: photography
Haiku Ten ~ Drought
Bugs-Eye View
In Search of Wild Horses
I wrote this poem a couple of summers ago, about a weekend trip to the Ochoco forest in central Oregon. A beautiful, unforgettable experience with wonderful people and stunning scenery.
 On Friday we set out in search of wild horses.
leaving the city with all its frenzy,
eager to begin our wilderness adventure.
We crossed sparkling rivers and overgrown creeks,
and saw wild rhododendrons
sprawling in the shade along the wooded roadside.
We found a stream bank that would make a great watering spot,
but alas, we saw no wild horses.
On Saturday we set out in search of wild horses.
We watched ospreys diving for lake trout.
We hiked steep mountain trails,
pausing to admire the grandeur of snow-capped peaks
and the delicateness of wildflowers
swaying in the gentle breezes.
We saw hoof prints in the soft forest floor,
but alas, we saw no wild horses.
On Sunday we set out in search of wild horses.
We enjoyed the scent of pine trees and lilacs,
watched lizards scurrying down rough-barked junipers,
and climbed hills to discover what lies beyond.
We marveled at piles of sun-hardened manure
scattered amongst the trees by our elusive prey.
We saw grass trails bent down where they may have passed by,
but alas, we saw no wild horses.
On Monday we set out for home.
En route we passed the Painted Hills that
undulate in shades of rose and verdigris and taupe and ochre.
We saw weathered barns sagging wearily in the fields,
antelope grazing in a verdant pasture,
and watched a man feed ice cream to his dogs.
We basked in our weekend revitalization.
And, by the way, we saw wild horses.
Half-Light
natureâs Midas touch renews each dawn rendering nightâs shadows to gold
Weekly Photo Challenge: Half and Half
Haiku Nine ~ Serenity
Wordless Wednesday 7.15.15
Haiku Eight ~ Summer’s Bounty
Symbolism Aflame ~ Three Haiku
tenuous flame clings to woven hope lest it drown in the molten sea
staving off darkness one brief flicker at a time your candle lights mine
I will light your way I will make your shadows dance you will feed the flame
Weekly Photo Challenge: Symbol
A Symbol by Any Other Name
âAs a child, I always knew it was springtime when I opened my bedroom window and caught the subtle, heartwarming aroma of the seasonâs first blossoms wafting across the swamplands of home. Yep, if the skunk cabbage was blooming, summer was just around the corner.â
If you were to ask me my favorite flower, I might tell you it is the Lysichiton americanus. But that would be far too pretentious. You know that whole âa rose by any other name would smell as sweetâ line? A Lysichiton americanus, by its other name, smells like⌠well, like its namesake.
âSkunk cabbageâ didnât get its name from any black-and-white striped color scheme. Itâs named for its distinctive âskunkyâ odor. So am I joking that itâs my favorite flower? Nope.
Growing up in a âwetlandâ area (formerly known as a swamp), the smell of skunk cabbage was indeed a harbinger of spring, which meant warmer weather and maybe just a tad less rain. Or maybe it meant warmer rain and a tad less weather. I forget.
But the symbolism of the skunk cabbage doesnât just stop at being a seasonal reminder. Despite its stinky name, the plant is quite beautiful. Large, lush green leaves, bright yellow flowers. It livens even the fustiest of swamplands. And it does so by rising regally out of its surrounding mud and mire.
Somehow I find that inspiring. More so than a hothouse rose or a pampered orchid. It is raw no-fuss nature at its best. Simple beauty despite its odoriferous moniker. To me it symbolizes dignity, poise â maybe even grace â while amidst the muck of worldly living.
So, come Motherâs Day or my birthday or any other day one might be compelled to send me a bouquet of flowers, let it be roses. Come on, you didnât expect me to say skunk cabbage, did you? Symbolism only goes so far.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Symbol


















