Monday, May 21, 2012

Magic Realism

   
     


Sunday, May 20, 2012

Mita's Gift...

      
      
   
The Return
Some day, if you are lucky,
you’ll return from a thunderous journey
trailing snake scales, wing fragments
and the musk of Earth and moon.
Eyes will examine you for signs
of damage, or change
and you, too, will wonder
if your skin shows traces
of fur, or leaves,
if thrushes have built a nest
of your hair, if Andromeda
burns from your eyes.
Do not be surprised by prickly questions
from those who barely inhabit
their own fleeting lives, who barely taste
their own possibility, who barely dream.
If your hands are empty, treasureless,
if your toes have not grown claws,
if your obedient voice has not
become a wild cry, a howl,
you will reassure them. We warned you,
they might declare, there is nothing else,
no point, no meaning, no mystery at all,
just this frantic waiting to die.
And yet, they tremble, mute,
afraid you’ve returned without sweet
elixir for unspeakable thirst, without
a fluent dance or holy language
to teach them, without a compass
bearing to a forgotten border where
no one crosses without weeping
for the terrible beauty of galaxies
and granite and bone. They tremble,
hoping your lips hold a secret,
that the song your body now sings
will redeem them, yet they fear
your secret is dangerous, shattering,
and once it flies from your astonished
mouth, they–like you–must disintegrate
before unfolding tremulous wings.    
by Geneen Marie Haugen
   

                

Friday, May 18, 2012

Climate Change

   
   
Everyone at HQ has been glued to the windows today as thunder roared overhead, hail pelted down in torrents and lightening ripped across darkened clouds. Evan left for Alaska this morning, so he'll be crossing the border into Canada tonight and sleeping under a different dome of sky.
         

Monday, May 7, 2012

Winning At Life

   

Evan and I headed out this past weekend to follow up on vague rumors of a beautiful 40 mile float on the Sweetwater River from South Pass Rest Area on Hwy 28 to Sweetwater Station Rest Area on Hwy 287. 

When Yost dropped us off (along with our dry suits, a river kayak for Evan, a pack raft for me, camping gear and no map), all we knew to expect of the adventure ahead was a host of fences across the river and five miles of Class 2-4 whitewater in a canyon about halfway along the route. 

75 miles and 22 hours of paddling later we reached the take out... 
  • happy to have been exploring together. 
  • exhausted by the effort it had taken to trace our way east along a never-ending series of oxbows.
  • having seen an amazing amount of wildlife (moose, beaver, cranes, geese, coyotes, marmots, antelope, deer, ducks) in scenic country
  • having portaged around a Class 5 waterfall and two dams, crossed close to 30 fences, and boated a fun and sustained stretch of technical (or bumpy, depending on your strategy) boulder gardens.
My best moment was in the rest area's family bathroom at 10pm on Sunday night: no pants on, my face and neck covered in baby powder, whimpering in pain as I crouched under the air dryer trying to rewarm my frozen hands so I could finish changing.