Tag: Backpacking

The Small River

Although I haven’t seen the small river yet… the one tucked back in the Coast Range, I know the trees will come up to its edge, some will lean too close, arching over the water. Ferns will dot its shores, trailing back to darker…

The High Desert

The cougar is up high in a yellow pine, hidden. I only see his misplaced paw print, formed when the mud was thick last spring. Now, the trail has dried into cracks, wrinkles in the earth, his movement of the past solidified. He won’t…

Baskett Slough

There’s so many speaking, not wanting to give up the slough. They’ve had it for the entire winter… to themselves Chickadees, common nighthawks, grebes, sneaky rails and coots.   The marsh, still cold…wet…wants to capture my clumsy steps. Grasses hide the outer rim of…

Above Multnomah Falls

This warm winter makes the creek scream like spring. I dip my hand in, as far in as my long sleeves let me Smooth stones, slick, cold life, years in my hands. My fragile blood beats, knows the water by heart.   It’s good…

Leaves

Starbucks banana nut bread Grande Pike, medium roast Trailhead, outhouse, no toilet paper A cluster of campsites within a mile Driving, slightly faster than normal between campsites All other outhouses, no toilet paper Hillbillies with dogs at one campsite give me the evil eye…

The Ledge

Out on the ledge, the snow hushes the wild. This kind of quiet soothes while it scares Strange mixture of awareness. A lone northern harrier is the only singer. She strafes the powder with one beat of her wings Eyes on everything, including me….

Traveling Near the Dark

There’s a quietness about the river broken by a random leap, splash of steelheads. a prairie hawk loses a feather. The natives drink a loud liquor on their fishing platforms, dip nets looking for fish who choose to become parts of ceremonies.   The…

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