I am a lone raven high above the canyon wall circling up, then down as hikers make their way on the old mule trail up to a series of switch-backs opening into a meadow where many options prevail going east, going west before turning back north to the mountain called Lemmon.
I am a lone raven blessed to fly above other mortals circling up, then down but still, I work hard to fly seeing images of life below inspiration of an alien being a curious extrovert, I call out taken as a signal by some just a lot of noise by others still unnoticed by others neutral touches interwoven.
The Big Horn fire this summer caused so much damage to the National Forest in the Santa Catalina Mountains remains closed to the public. Therefore, hiking and photographing wildflowers in the Catalinas will not be in 2020, which provides a good excuse to revisit some wildflower photos over the past ten summers.
One of the things I love about living in the Tucson area is its biodiversity. Being in a desert surrounded by mountains (Sky Islands) with different forest biomes.
In the summer we spend time hiking in nearby mountain forests. However, this summer has been a little different because of the pandemic and forest fires.
Mountain Trail
Sabbaths 1999, VII
Again I resume the long lesson: how small a thing can be pleasing, how little in this hard world it takes to satisfy the mind and bring it to its rest.
With the ongoing havoc the woods this morning is almost unnaturally still. Through stalled air, unshadowed light, a few leaves fall of their own weight.
The sky is gray. It begins in mist almost at the ground and rises forever. The trees rise in silence almost natural, but not quite, almost eternal, but not quite.
What more did I think I wanted? Here is what has always been. Here is what will always be. Even in me, the Maker of all this returns in rest, even to the slightest of His works, a yellow leaf slowly falling, and is pleased.
— Wendell Berry
Since I write and share poetry nature, I was not surprised to receive a Wendell Berry poem from one of my hiking buggies, Deborah. She wanted to know if I had posted it in the past, having not it gave me good reason to do so along with the video, “The Women Who Planted Trees,” by Emily Barker.
“Be patient toward all that
is unsolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves,
like locked rooms and like books that are
now written in a very foreign tongue.
Do not now seek the answers,
which cannot be given you because
you would not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps you will then gradually,
without noticing it, live along
some distant day into the answer.”
Aspen Loop On Mt. Lemmon (08/02/13) — Image by kenne
These are amazing: each
Joining a neighbor, as though speech
Were a still performance.
Arranging by chance
To meet as far this morning
From the world as agreeing
With it, you and I
Are suddenly what the trees try
To tell us we are:
That their merely being there
Means something; that soon
We may touch, love, explain.
And glad not to have invented
Such comeliness, we are surrounded:
A silence already filled with noises,
A canvas on which emerges
A chorus of smiles, a winter morning.
Placed in a puzzling light, and moving,
Our days put on such reticence
These accents seem their own defense.
— John Ashbery
“Written in 1948 when Ashbery was only 21 and a senior at Harvard College, this brief lyric has everything that his later, much longer, poems will advance. It is a love poem that never mentions love directly, but a feeling of being in love infuses the way the speaker sees, feels, and thinks about everything. It makes him feel both small and big, a tiny piece of a greater universe, but nonetheless connected to a world full of mystery and grandeur. A sense of the universe comes from gazing up at those huge trees from the ground while in love and remembering the immensity of that experience of feeling and thinking.” Source: Publishers Weekley
Wild Rasberry On Mt. Lemmon (07/18/14) — Image by kenne
Those who love spending our summers hiking on Mt. Lemmon are saddened by the continued burning
of the Bighorn Fire in the Santa Catalina Mountains.
As I write this post, the Pima County Sheriff has told residents and businesses
to evacuate the Mt. Lemmon, Summerheaven, and Mt. Bigalow areas.
The Catalina Hwy has been close to non-residents and businesses for several days now.