The urge to lace up my hiking shoes, tight, to explore, to rid myself of unbalance drove me to the hills. During the hike my mind cleared and I thought of poetry.
I usually keep a small notebook with me and jotted some lines down whenever I took a break. After the hike, I felt the weight of current events fall away, my shoulders relaxed, my mood lightened. I can tackle another week.
Each photograph inspired a poem:
Trails layered themselves, invited me up, to clearer air, brighter vistas.
The glassy blue ocean behind me, the zig zag paths lie before me,
behind me an ocean breeze, a snap of frigid air.
Trees appear sprouting limbs, haphazard grasps for sky.
I need to see those trees, sun myself on the fallen log nearby.
Rocks tumble beneath my feet, pebbles slide, until I reach the pinnacle.
Handkerchief sails make their way to Chumash lands,
ancient islands, ridges of a dinosaur back submerged in the ocean.
Glossy ravens, red speckled beetles,
a hawk circles on a parasail of feathers above.
Rock people gather in homage to the sea.
Remind me of balance even with sharp edges on round surfaces,
the seemingly impossible, possible
A march of all sizes,
hues of cream, ochre, umber
in one direction.
Spiky barbs,
alarming, dangerous,
a heart symbol
dotted with strawberry tunas.
The end of the trail meets me with love.
Do you enjoy hiking?
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