Crater Lake doesn't have anything to prove, it just is, a big and deep natural truth. The everyday dishonesties and distractions of our human lives stand out vividly against its great serenity. Perhaps we travel to places like this so we can be awed, and lose our shallow preoccupations in the dust.

The privacy, the warm sleeping bag, the skylight through which I saw stars at night- I was happy, happy to have my own little tent near the canyon of Annie Creek. Every time I even looked at the tent, boundaried by four young evergreens, I felt happy.

I hiked the vigorous and beautiful trail to the top of Mount Scott, the highest elevation in Crater Lake National Park. I reached the top and finally felt truly alone, something I'd been seeking. But for the first time, it felt like a great abyss- no connection with others, with God, with the great expanse around me. There I was up above everything around me, and at the lowest point of the trip. It hurt, and I prayed for relief even though there seemed to be nothing to pray to.

Five times within half an hour, while still on the summit, I was answered- the last time by a couple of hikers who arrived after me. I started the trek down not happy, but no longer in despair, and with a newfound awareness that I'm not truly a loner.

You think after so many years Crater Lake, now all dusty and harshly lit by the late August sun, has lost its hold on you. Then it grabs you by the heart and squeezes hard.

after a wedding
still in dress, sandals, and navy blue hose
I did martial arts warm-ups
under a tree.
A police station was to the right.
Mount Hood
the silent volcano
was far ahead
fading in the dusk.



from White Salmon, Washington

her life
so nicely organized
the socks in the left drawer,
the blouses in the drawer beneath,
everyday underwear here,
sexy intimates there,
and one day
they start to spill
one into the other,
the sport shorts
chatting up
the work scarves,
the turtleneck sweater
with the bikini and the old choir robe
it's the kind of thing
where she might laugh
or lose all her hair
or both

Shaving cream leaves in Fort Collins, Colorado this past May.

If I remember correctly, in Lee Harper's To Kill a Mockingbird, the silent recluse Boo Radley hid little treasures for Scout- a stick of gum, a pretty leaf- in the hollow of an oak.

A small offering from the heart can be like an apple seed that falls into good soil. Nourish one human being's spirit, you nourish many.

I've been on the receiving end these last years; there are special others who make life such a poignant surprise.

to feel grateful
for the now riches,
the tripping rippling beat
behind the long song
whistled across
the baseball diamond,
for the sunny, thorny
infinite moment,
the white-shadowed reality,
the rugged smell
of this star-heated dust

She was wandering the streets of San Rafael. Not a very wild Wild Turkey.

The photo does not reflect her beauty. She had feathers of rich brown, of silver and gold bright in the morning sunlight.

Got the new camera running. Moved across the bay to a new place. Approaching a new normal.