Hoofprints

We walked up to the Dome recently to see the new green lichen growing on the rocks. There may be pooled water or even a small spring under the rocks; the Dome attracts a lot of wildlife. The earth around the Dome had been marked by dozens of hooves in various sizes.

A message in dust,

letters from a wild font:

antelope hoofprints.

Morning Mist

Gray morning drenched with sage --

snow on the mountain's crest

turns to mist at her feet.

Blanca Meets Alma

Eric hand-painted this sign to mark one of the roads on the way to our house. The sign had been missing for months, and we were worried that our friends would get lost trying to find our place. We have very few visitors, so we try to make it as easy as possible for those who venture out here to find us.

Writing haiku and tanka has been very hard for me lately. I've been distracted by work and by worries about finding work. I've applied for jobs in larger areas. I worry about leaving the Valley. Thinking about leaving makes me feel like I should start to separate myself from the area. But then I wonder why I eventually detach myself from everything that's deeply important to me.

A Place in the World

When the world outside meets the world inside,
the ragged edges of a torn self
find each other, settle in,
and form a seam.

And you learn that gravity is not a force
that keeps your body on the earth
when you most want to leave,
but something more like grace,
guiding you to a place
you never left.