The Creek Flows Thick

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Photo by Jimmy Zammar

It has been both cold and warm lately. I awoke this morning at 6:15 am and it was 15 degrees F outside, yet southern exposures are becoming snow-less. I hear red-winged blackbirds and Canada geese and see other signs of spring. Each day the angle of the sun increases and the bus is hit more directly by its warmth. At the same time, we’ve gotten new snow recently and I continue to enjoy the heck out of winter and especially skiing.

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Photo by Jimmy Zammar

Some days ago I hit the trail behind our house and headed towards town before turning up a steep trail called Powers Plunge. It challenged my cardiovascular system and I felt like a turtle crawling up a steep bank. There were two climbs and I was tired and sweating after navigating the second and gentler of the two. From there I headed on towards town yet again, on a different trail this time, looping on around to head back home. All in all, I skied over 18 km (11 miles) in an hour and half or so. As I neared home, I crossed over Wolf Creek, pausing to gaze at its ice-bound beauty and I composed this short poem:

The creek flows thick
and solid with cold.
Over, under, around and through
Ice flowing in ways I cannot
imagine, in places I cannot
maneuver. Ice into ice,
water through water.
A ceaseless dance of change –
changing form, the formless,
the molecules remain the same.

 

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Photo by Jimmy Zammar

by David LaFever

Snow Falling on Pines

Here is a poem I wrote yesterday while it snowed steadily outside:

A long snowflake falls
from a gray-white sky.
I watch it float, lazily
to the snow-covered ground.
Snow clouds drape the ridgeline
across the valley.
Blue Buck, Pearrygin, and Tripod
Veiled by the gauze sky.
An hour later, the snow is coming down
All peaks and ridges are obscured, have disappeared.
Hidden behind a world of snow, cloud to ground
Illusory and temporary in nature.
I wonder about that one snowflake I saw
Falling hours ago, where is it now?
Somewhere, nowhere, lost in it all
Snow falling on pines.

By David LaFever

 

Three for the Methow

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Photo by Jimmy Zammar
Methow River flowing green
Reflecting trees above, sky below
Flowing on, out of snow-mountains
Past forest and field, farmhouse and cabin
On past Goat Wall and an old Western town
Onward it winds, narrowing
Into canyons, whit water rushing
Hurrying to a dammed world below.

The river flows and flows
	without end.
Birds flit and flutter along the banks
	chittering to no end.
Mountains stand, still
	from beginning to end.
Cars whiz by on the highway
	hurrying to no end.
With no beginning and no end,
	why hurry at all?

Two young girls play along
	the bank of a river flowing.
Sticks for kids, trees a home
	an oriole flits and flutters high above.
The warm sun comforts my back
	while a cool breeze floats down river.
Tall cottonwoods stand with their toes in the water
	Balls of soft seeds float on the wind.
"Look its snowing," she says excitedly
	chasing dreams of imagination.

Written by David LaFever

Sparkling Waters

A poem from an inspiring winter day along the South Fork Elk River.


by David LaFever

Witless Wanderings of Nibbling Sheep

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Sparkling waters speaking, a language their own

Bursting bubbles everywhere

Hearing sounds, not understanding words

Intertwining in meaning

Deepening redwoods, mossying alders

Graying jay, downying woodpecker

Spawning salmon, flowing water

Lengthening shadows

Elk River, a winter day.

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Clouds and Birds and Trees

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We see rain clouds moving across the sky

Flowing northwards like a river in the atmosphere

Drifting onward to another time and place.

 

Wild winter winds whip the tree

Does the wind move the clouds

Or the clouds move the wind?

 

Wind-moving clouds dance with the trees

Birds fly with the wind, the clouds

We love you clouds and birds and trees.

 

(written by Madeleine Jane LaFever, age 5 3/4, and David Howard LaFever, age 37)

Happy Lucky Idiot

A poem by Nanao Sakaki from his collected poems called “How to Live on the Planet Earth.”

 

If you have time to chatter

Read books

If you have time to read

Walk into mountain, desert and ocean

If you have time to walk

Sing songs and dance

If you have time to dance

Sit quietly, you Happy Lucky Idiot