Bumbles

Hovering
Wings a blur
Landing
Little yellow flowers
Sweet pollen upon legs
Paper thin wings
Fuzzy striped bodies
Thin black antennae
Servants to the fields

Wind
Pebble grasped tightly
Balancing
Focused on the hive

Graceful Dance
Mapping open fields
Two hills over lies a meadow
Delicious pollen
Follow the directions

Swarm
Swift transparent wings
Discovery
Meadow sweet and plentiful

Honey combs
Dripping
Oozing
Delight
A gift for the Queen

[Image: http://www.insectstings.co.uk/bees.shtml]

Speeding Cars

Sitting here, feet on table, admiring the man made and God’s creations.
The best of both worlds I call it.
Cup of coffee in hands with a deep sigh I conclude that this is the best that life has to offer.
Rush Rush Rush cars zoom by in a colorful array.
Speeding to a destination.
Do they even see me here? Do they even know how wonderful it is today?
Wind blows swiftly. I sweep the hair from my face.
Bushy green trees across the freeway.
Cover the hills and leaving no room for light to peer in.
Breeze Blowing... leaves rustling.
Trees knock against one another in a happy dance.
Growing so high towards the heavens, grasping the light and pulling it towards them.
Slivers of clouds fly overhead and cover the sun for just a moment.
Cars honk and change lanes.
Do they see the smaller tree struggling to reach the light?
Do they care?
Do they know what they are missing by not sitting here?
Where are they going?
Peaceful sun warms my body.
I can smell the coffee roasting… the aroma fills my nose as I take a sip.
Coffee has never tasted so wonderful and the sun has never shone so brightly.
Sitting alone taking in the scenery.
Should I be lonely? Should I desire the company of my friends?
Or should I enjoy one of the best days alone?
I think I will sit here alone and allow the questions to flow through my head.
I will let my mind drift into the forest and admire the strong-stable trees.
I will climb a tree and sit.
I will lye in the dirt and look up at the branches shaking in the wind.
Will the cars ever know what they are missing by rushing by?

[Image: http://www.plantzafrica.com/vegetation/forest.htm]

Green Sudsy Algae

Green sudsy algae floats upon the dimpled surface of the pond.
Fish scuttle across darting after one another hiding amongst the sudsy fog.
Larger fish watch in repose as they stand still as rocks with only a slight flick of their tails.
Leaves find their burial ground amongst on the surface.
The rocks slip into the water as if they are trying to avoid disturbances.
A waterfall splashes and sprays with a sweet sound so soothing.
White splashes of water fly from the still water and join the glass-like waterfall.
Tall green stalks with sun kissed tips shoot from the murky depths.
A tiny flowing stream mimics the powerful flow opposite it.
It glides so gracefully along the rocks that it seems to blend into the water.
Rocks shoot up and fence the little pond in, while a mature tree admires from afar.
Big waxy leaves hand like banana peels and brush the surface of the water.
They are merely dipping their feet instead of diving in.
A palm leans over the water as if to get a closer look at the energetic fish below.
The shadows of dimpling water dance along the sandy bottom.
Reflections of the rocks on the surface of the water look as if they are swimming
amongst the fish.
The water responds by climbing the rocks by reflecting itself against the rock’s surface.
The little bug-eyed fish keep their bulgy eyes on me as I write.
Slowing down for a second to admire my pen gliding across the paper and then returning
To their game of tag.
Lily pads grace the surface and make me think of the frogs that jump from one pad to
And croak with joy in the evenings.
Come with me to the pond sometime and sit amongst the rocks and watch the fish swish.

[Image:http://www.bioremediate.com/algae.htm]

Admiring the Dirt

Today I admired the dirt.
One may wonder what there is to admire.
I found plenty!
I took into account each and every crack that spread across the ground.
How did this crack get here?
Could it have been a hiker, a biker, or maybe it could have been from me?
Everyday I pass this plot of dirt and never take time to ask questions.
Who lives amongst these grains of rock?
Where has this dirt come from? I wonder if it traveled far and wide just to be stepped on.
What animals call this dirt home? Could it be that red ant or possibly a lizard?
I look more closely at the different shades of brown
What a beautiful mosaic! How many rocks created this dirt?
How many people pass each day?
Little green tufts grow from between some of the cracks even though the ground is parched.
I wonder what the dirt is hiding beneath it.
Is there a little mouse family that that woke up from hibernation preparing for the spring?
The dirt is the foundation to all that grows here yet no one really pays it any attention.
If only they looked carefully and recognized its importance.
It supports the beautiful oak tree and the powerful pine.
If there was no dirt there would be no foundation and without a foundation we would be nowhere.
I feel myself growing quite fond of this dirt and all the things it brings to my life.
I wish I thought to stop and thank it every time I passed but I think the dirt knows my gratitude because he is still holding me up.

[Image: http://www.psych.ndsu.nodak.edu/brady/CG/CG%20BG%20CRW/]

Wind

I sit amongst the tall stalks of grass that shift from side to side
I watch as they lose control
My papers rustle around until one slips from my grip and gets tossed into the air
I cannot help but watch it dance across the sky
The trees sound as if they are an ocean
Roaring...crashing waves hit the beach and then the water rolls back to sea
The wind has such a power that it can toss the tops of the trees around as if they were only leaves on the ground
Swoosh Swoosh I hear the trees fight against the wind and then give up
Little yellow flowers look like a brush stroke of paint across the green field
Clouds roll across the sky... the wind does not allow them to hang around and watch nature's dance
I watch as a bird fights against the wind
Feathers flailing and beak pushing forward
I wonder if he will make it to his destination... or will he just wait for the wind to dye down
There are very few things in the sky... I guess very few things are as brave as the battling bird.
Whoosh... a huge gust of wind surrounds me... blades of grass as tossed around and dirt fills the air
I appreciate the magnificent power the wind has over all of nature
The wind knows his abilities and uses his strong force to show off.
I know that Aldo Leopold appreciates the wind like I am on this gusty day.
He even expresses the desire to be the wind... I don't know if I could handle such a job!

[Image: http://www.wbur.org/special/dispatches/russiabikeride/photogallery/week2/]

The Kern River

Whenever life seems too difficult I let my mind wander to the Kern River. This is where I can become one with nature and not worry about the issues society has created for me. Here I can take off my shoes and sit by the river. I feel so natural, so safe, so alone, yet so spiritual. Here I contemplate what is most important to me and leave the projects that will be gone in a week. I can be as rugged and adventurous as I like. I can leave all classifications people have of me at the bottom of the river. I can wash my body clean of all the judgments and assumptions people have of me. Here I am who I want to be. Here is where I grow into who I want to be. Here is where I can showcase my best attributes. I am a strong and independent adventurer who has a knife clipped to my belt. I am a mountain climber who can't find a mountain that can't be climbed. Here I am successful for what I want to be successful for... not for a silly test. My only tests are facing my fears and overcoming my perceived weaknesses. If you want to see me in my element... where my attributes shine through... take me to the Kern. Take me into nature. Put me in the sun and you don't even have to show me a path. For here there are no paths but the ones you make. Everyone who comes to the Kern may not have the spiritual and self bettering experience that I have but the opportunity is out there. The rocky mountains are there to be climbed and the river is there to be wrestled across. I will always travel back to the Kern even when it is only in my imagination.

Ancient Wine-Bibbers

"The shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs, the sturdy spirits of ancient wine-bibbers and wassailers..."
From Thoreau's Sounds



As I sit here on my bed in the comforts of my room I can hear the croaking of the wild frogs outside. I have not been home to Calabasas in quite some time and sit here alone to appreciate the sounds. I don't remember these powerful bloated bellied animals when I last returned home for a visit. Is it the season for them to take over the grasses and spread a chorus that echos throughout the neighborhood? Or is it that I have never once just sat and listened to what they had to say? I am hoping that it is just the season for them. For if I have simply been too busy to recognizes these creatures of the night my heart will ache to reverse the clock. If anything I know that now I am taking the time to catch the repeating syllables that form meaning to these little army men who sneak through the grass. I wish that they weren't so good at hide and go seek and I would be able to go outside and watch their little necks expand with every croak. I guess there are some things in nature that only wish to be heard and intermittently seen. I will appreciate their choir and wait until they want to be seen. Why am I always wanting more than what I have been given? Isn't their wonderful choir enough? I guess that is what I need to learn to do... appreciate the little things in nature.

[Image:http://www.mlahanas.de/Greeks/LX/TheFrogs.html]

From my Blacony

Sometimes I sit out on my balcony and watch the world around me.
I can see the mountains in the background offset by the busy world.
Reminding me of the contrast between slow and fast paced lives that are only separated by a block.
Inside my apartment there are things to be done but out in the hills there are only adventures to be had.
Which do I pick? Do I go inside and get my work done or do I go examine the great outdoors.
Life is too short I think... I am going to explore. My work can wait. But the hills are always changing.
I don't want to miss a leaf from a great oak twirling and whirling to the ground.
Why miss the hawks circling the helpless rabbit below?
I can't think of a reason to put off my trip any longer.
I dash from my apartment and into the hills. I start up a trail that I know very well.
Yet it is as if ever turn of the trail is different each time I hike it.
I kick up dust behind my feet and take off for the top.
My grand idea is to sit at the top of the mountain and look out at my balcony.
Once I get to the top I ask myself, should I stay in the hills or return to the fast life?
I decide to lye down in the hills until I feel it is time to go.
I will let my day waste away in the hills and leave my worries on my balcony.


[Image:www.nature.org/.../ preserves/art9784.html]

Taking Time

I usually wouldn't give it a second.
I usually would just let it pass by.
But I heard a rustling in the brush above and I took time out to look.
I saw two deer running for safety.
I wished they would stay so I could admire their speckled little backs.
I got my wish, when I stood there still enough I heard them returning.
They kept their eyes on me for quite some time.
Not very sure what to think of me.
Was I an enemy or a friend?
Once they began to churn the bramble in their mouths again I inched closer.
I couldn't believe that they weren't moving.
I couldn't believe that they were not phased.
How close could I get to these beautiful creatures before they scamper away?
I decided not to take a chance and just sit on a patch of grass.
I usually would have taken only but a minute to appreciate such beauty.
There is a joy and a calming inside when you connect with a gentle animal.
I wanted to wait until they naturally turned and went back deep into the woods
But it was getting dark... the sun was setting on my peaceful evening.
Now every time I pass that point on my evening runs, I look for them.
There is a peace in knowing that there are animals so quiet and gentle waiting for me
And all I have to do is take the time to look up when I hear that gentle rustling in the brush.