The Oly Penn

Place Road

Sunsets over the Salish Sea

Colors of orange and purple

Framed by fir and hemlock

Madrone shadows casting

On the house as the light dims

Watching the fire flare

The Barcarolle softly playing

The serenity cannot be surpassed

To experience it is enough to make you weep

I closed the door for the last time

As I drive down the heavily wooded road

The house on the bluff slowly disappears

The twilight erases its form

Blending it into the forest

Until its existence is silenced

I have not heard The Barcarolle since

Hurricane Ridge

The trail before me heading down

The day is cold, no clouds

The glare from the snow makes me squint

Not the whisper of wind or breeze, no hint

Not many people out today

I like it this way

My own private snow globe

Maybe three miles round trip

Crunching along atop the snow

The path is wide open, clear

I feel so alive up here

Trees worshipping in their pew

Have I ever seen a sky so blue?

What goes down, must come up

Hiking back an uphill slant

Feel the burn

Round the turn

There’s the top

Don’t stop

Shuffling back towards the lodge

I look up, the sky is clear

Knocking snow off the shoe

I feel so alive up here

Have I ever seen a sky so blue?

Freshwater Bay

Out for an early afternoon walk

The beach theatrical

In raw natural beauty

I push against the sand beneath my feet

Off to my right, the Salish Sea

Its shallow waves are pouncing down on the shore

Fluid, supple kittens chasing pebbles

The sand gives way to rocks

Intruding on my stride

Soon I am involved with the stones

Agitated there by the water

They hinder my progress around the bend

I am not expecting to see giants emerge

They are monoliths in comparison to their cousins behind me

Draped in cloaks of rusty red hues

Stippled charcoal

With bands of ochre and olive

The colors incongruous here

Alien and unfamiliar

The monuments are smooth and worn

The heat of the day emanates from their souls

Resting there in abstract tranquility

A Shinto shrine to the passage of time