I found myself walking along the sea.
We are all part sea water and perhaps
I'm on a pilgrimage to the call of the tides.

Living so far away from the ocean, the
beach is unfamiliar and holds secrets.
The water is cold. The sand is soft.

Landlocked, I see the beach and the ocean
with different eyes. I lock away the smallest details.
It could be years before I return -- or never.

That's probably me with my head looking down.
That’s how I walk on a beach. Or I scan the horizon.
I see a few others my age doing much the same. 

The gulls call out. They gather and squabble.
The shorebirds taunt the spent waves.
A lone jogger passes by without a word.

This sand is decorated with polished stones.
Washed by each gentle wave, they shine
and leave patterns from the receding flow.  

Sand Dollars are plentiful -- maybe half dollars.
They are small and lie flat, awaiting discovery
among the rivulets and tracks in the sand.  

I find things that others may not see.
And once again, on this brisk December day,
I found myself walking along the sea.

* * *

Burn scars are hard to erase. They leave
lasting evidence of trauma and despair.
And yet -- I can't stop looking at them.
When will they heal?  Will I ever see it?

How many years have I watched and waited?
Is there a flicker of hope?  Fire destroys.
In the forest, fire also brings rebirth.
It just takes so long.

There's a spark of life here. There's some color over there.
The Pines are gone but the Aspens know what to do.
They are survivors with roots that protect the future.
Fire is what they were waiting for.

Why seek ye the living among the dead? But they never died.
I'm compelled -- season after season -- to seek the living.
The wounds are healing but it's not the same as before.
But there are some rewards for those who wait.

The Elk are back and know that the forest will return.
It may be stronger than before if given a little time.
On Autumn days it is a sight to behold.
Especially on this cold, cloudy day sputtering snow.

Burn scars are hard to erase.
The Jemez Mountains show muscle and bone
beneath the scar of the old forest. Now a new
and beautiful skin brings life among the dead.

The Home Place — 2018

I'm always amazed at those slabs of ancient

tree trunks that show how time passes.

A seed fell and sprouted and took root.

Maybe in 1492 or 1215.

There was a drought. There was a fire.

There were good years and bad.

My ancient Juniper tree lives on at the back

of a my mostly unused piece of land.

Its age gives it a certain distinction.

How old can it be?

I named the tree Carlos Rey for it was surely

once the property of the King of Spain.

These trees grow slowly in the high desert.

They experience things that we never notice.

Once they get a good start, a toehold, they

can go on for centuries.

Carlos Rey was twig when Coronado and

the Franciscans camped just down the hill.

Other trees nearby show old jagged scars;

ax marks where a shepherd or soldier

stole a branch for firewood or shelter.

Even the scars are ancient.

Carlos Rey went unnoticed and unscathed.

Endurance and survival are the keys.

Carlos has seen good years and bad years.

I think we must be in what will be known

as bad years when some future scientist

ponders our age - our rings.

I see no small Junipers - only ancient ones.

The climate seems angry and uncooperative.

Life is precious. It has a memory to share.

There's a man in Sussex who counts the rings

of a Stradavari or a Montagnana or

a Matteo Groffiller.

With years of practice, and in the right hands,

the old tree rings sing with the voice of angels.

Some time ago I learned that a close friend's friend was killed in the earthquake in Nepal.

He was one of the climbers on Everest when the avalanche engulfed them.

He was a climber. He didn't have to be there. He was a visitor who chose that time and place; a once in a lifetime journey.

He was doing what he chose to do. One never knows.  We take risks every day.

We close the door. We don't say goodbye.

So, what does one do?

"Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree." said Martin Luther.

Should we modify our behavior to avoid risk?  Should we hide in our house?

"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying" says Woody Allen

No.  That is the last thing we should do.

"When you do something, you should burn yourself up completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself" said the monk,  Shunryu Suzuki

We must go on about our business, always.  You have something important to do...do it. If not now, when? If you have something to find, chances are that it will find you.

 The Zen master Hui Hai said... "Search and you will lose it. Do not search and you will immediately find it. Stop and it will be right here. Run and it will not be anywhere." 

A few times in my life I have waited too long. I was waiting for something to happen...for someone to find me...to get ready for something that didn't happen.

I don't do that anymore.

"A slave is one who waits for someone to come and free him." said Ezra Pound

*    *    *