Showing posts with label #Hiking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Hiking. Show all posts

Sunday, October 11, 2020

The Dark Path Brightens

It occurs to me

That I require an ideal

To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch.

My tenacity shouts above my perception

Shooting over the trees

Soliciting the breeze

Questioning my knees

As the goal sticks out its tongue and then darts

Off like a chipmunk to peek back at me from 

The enduring rocks and ledges that loom ahead.

 

My companions and I 

Pray to a silent God

Mindful of our mission

And that our bodies not 

Fail us, at least, not today.

The round red footpath signs 

Point diagonally ahead, 

Tree to tree towards

The relentless uphill, and my breathless 

Scramble over the ledges to come. 

 

The reward still sketchy 

After three hours in; 

When I am eager to drink in the summit. 

Finally, the dark path brightens. 

And I bow to the chipmunk in an

Attempt to feed it an organic potato chip. 

It darts instead behind a bush, 

Then shows me its tail, and informs me to eat 

But not to get too comfortable.

We have another mountain to bag.

 

Notified later 

By our fearless leader 

That I will have to CLIMB DOWN 

And then up again, for another mile   

Progressing first to the infamous 

Cornell Crack, where 

Mistakes in either direction 

Will not be tolerated. 

The Purple ribbon and I 

Contemplating our virgin review. 

 

My knees hiss a warning, which I promptly ignore.  

They vow to render their discourse later 

During our descent as they rant about where 

I place my feet, how to steady my stride, 

Harping that the path less taken 

Comes at a precipitous price.

The brilliant sun pierces the canopy, 

As before us, emerges another ledge.

Another feat to capture 

Is the epic as it continues to unfold.

 

We descend past yet another group of

Masked climbers at three p.m. 

Still on their ascent with their two children, 

An infant strapped to its mother

And the three-year-old

Proclaiming, then bawling 

Over the never-ending mountain ahead, 

His father, a tongueless statue, 

Their progress halted to let us pass.

Miles to go, both ways.

 

The smug star 

Reclines in the west

Pointing at loose rocks, 

Protruding roots 

Our heel-toe-heel cautious descent, 

My hiking poles that clock-like catch 

Between soft earth and a hard place

Slowing my forward motion

Tipping my resolve. 

My reserve approaching empty. 

 

The chipmunk scampering ahead 

Turns to salute me as our last steps 

Steer us back to our chariots in

The near-empty lot

To untie shoelaces

Remove mud-caked boots

Release tired toes

From their dark prisons

Slip-on our winged victory to

Toast at the evening feast.

 

 

 

 

Friday, September 28, 2018

My photo, Autumn Cliffs, taken on a recent hike is in the 

                      2019 Mohonk Preserve Calendar.





Saturday, October 22, 2016

Mohonk Preserve-A Love Song





Mohonk Preserve is my church,
a photographer's dream.

I return
to craft moments
capture memories
blaze trails
its pastoral beauty quiets my mind
lets my spirit soar
high above the sweaty rocks
glistening in the mid-day sun.


I return
to scramble
Giant’s Path
Rock Rift
Bonticue Crag.

I celebrate in the snakes
gliding through Duck Pond
while I sit and snack on wild blueberries.

I rejoice in Raptors posing on ledges
taking flight
watching us, watch them.

I witness the devotion
of my fellow hikers reflected in pools
beneath waterfalls
the cool mist as it soothes tired spirits
the wild beauty that surrounds us all.

I return to the land
to witness Spring’s
trillium erectum
wild ginger, bloodroot
all stalwart parishioners.

I return to the land
to cross Summer’s Rhododendron Bridge
disappear into a cloud of pink and white mountain laurel.

 I return to the land
to gaze at Autumn’s
red oak
mountain ash
sugar maple
leaves ablaze
red, orange and yellow,
to marvel at the revelation
without and within.

I return to the land
in Winter
to realize the glacial majesty
net the mirror images
and the light
always the light
in slow water and ice
in the footprints left behind
to find the divine in a frosty pine.

I return devout
week in and week out.
I return to plug in,
exult and give thanks.

I return.
I return.
I return.


©Cornelia DeDona 10-17-16



Thursday, October 29, 2015

Hawaiian Time







climbs the Stairway to Heaven
taking in the view
finding plenty time fo breathe, cuz!
...

Hawaiian time
leaves Honolulu
on a late plane
to New York
it will arrive bumbai.
...

New York time
is waiting
on Hawaiian time
and promises
to chill
in due time.

New York time
thinks Hawaiian time
has two speeds
slow and stop.

New York time takes
a long minute
to change its
mind about
Hawaiian time
but Hawaiian time
doesn’t care
it expects New York time
will catch up bumbai.

Bumbai: otherwise; or else; later; later on


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The Dark Path Brightens

It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...