I-395 North to Reno

Photo: C. Campbell

I-395 North to Reno
a Haibun

Plans cut short, I leave Southern California two days early, leave my mom to her dementia fog, to her perpetual present moment. I have no desire to drive half of my 500 mile drive in the midst of a promised snow storm heading in from the Northwest.

The drive is glorious—a cloudless cerulean blue skies flanked by snow-covered mountaintops to the East and West. Mono Lake and Topaz boast still turquoise waters at a low level because of the drought. Our thirsty earth throbs with hope for the forecast of an impending wet season. Walker River is but a trickle.

When I arrive home, I see a wall of darkness in the distance. Trees in an assortment of fall colors whisper in the wind, greet my descent into the Great Basin. I breathe a sigh of relief that I am safe and find my husband and dogs waiting for me. The chilling temperature does not impede the warmth of their welcome.

a heavy gray pall
creeps in like a stealthy cat
promising first snow

Today, for dVerse Poetics, I’m hosting a prompt, asking you for a current weather report from your corner of the world. This drive is, for me, so wonderful–leading along the Eastern Sierra, past Mt. Whitney, Mammoth, Mono Lake and Topaz Lake and so many glorious views. I feel so blessed to live where I do…for more info on this road trip check out this article in Via–a publication of AAA.

Now, how about joining us with your own weather report. The Pub opens at 3:00 PM Tuesday. I’ll be glad to mix you up a drink to fit your current weather-based needs.

As I write this, I see it is snowing outside (Monday 11/9/15 at 1600)! Large, fluffy flakes.

I-395 South in Winter

Photo Credit: darkroastedblend.com

Contrails etched in the newborn sky

burst into flames at dawn.

 

Diamond-studded acres of frozen snow

bristle at sun’s caress.

Photo: listofimages.com

We descend the mountain road

into a bowl of milky fog,

 

creep forward through thick mist

then emerge beneath its weighty layer.

Photo: Alex Boywer
Mono Lake Fog

There lies Mono Lake, still and peaceful

as light breaks through in the East

 

illuminating her surface into

a pool of liquid silver.

 

A gilded strip on the horizon beckons.

We rise again through the miasma,

 

We arise to crisp blue that shimmers,

shivers, surrenders its secrets.

 

In the desert, Joshua trees, tipped

in gold leaf, bow at our passage.

Photo: tripadviser

Contrails etched in evening skies

burst into flames at sunset.

Photo credit: joabess.com

We’re arrived in the desert after a two-day drive. This stunning trip never ceases to amaze me but this winter topped them all. I wanted to pull over and take photos every few miles but because of the conditions, it took longer than usual. Wish I could find the words to describe the PEACE and beauty that this dip into nature brought to me…and Peace in the theme Mary has invited us to consider over at dVerse Poetics!

Driving North on I-395 in Early Morning

Image via Wikipedia

Driving North on I-395 in Early Morning

Behind me, to the East,
(as I crest a summit)
sun opens his eyes,
stretches, reaches out,
grazes snow-graced peaks
of Mt. Whitney,
gilds her breasts in bronze.

Before me, in the valley,
fog spills into a bowl of milk.
I inch forward,
into a cloud of unknowing.

Earth shimmers behind
her gauzy silence,
till once again
she rips her veil
and wraps me in light.
Going home.

Joined to Gooseberry Garden where we’re invited to write about something for which we are grateful and to dVerse Poets’ Pub Open Link Night where you can write about whatever you want. For those of us who celebrate Thanksgiving, here’s a chance to gorge on poetry and friendship before the big day. Maybe then we won’t be so tempted to over-indulge when the day arrives. Happy Thanksgiving all, wherever you are. I am grateful you are a part of my life.

The Cloud of Unknowing–dVerse Poetics

Image by emdot via Flickr

The Cloud of Unknowing

Who covered our valley with layers of gauzy fog?
Before me, another car edges forward.
I follow dim tail lights, hoping that somewhere ahead
another leads the tentative parade.

Last week, a mountain spanned the landscape
on the lower third of earth’s canvas.
A two-lane highway wove its way through
rabbit brush, tumble weeds tumbled. Snakes slithered.

Today I see only dim tail lights, hoping that
tomorrow I will come home.

The Cloud of Unknowing is a spiritual treatise by an anonymous medieval mystic. It advises the follower that God cannot be understood through knowledge, but rather through contemplation. Oftentimes those who live in faith have to endure prolonged periods of doubt. Having spent time in California’s Central Valley and on the coast, I always found Tule Fog and coastal fog to be an apt metaphor for life’s journey at times like this.

Today at dVerse Poet’s Pub, Brian Miller asks us to see that which cannot be seen except through the third eye. Check it out at http://dversepoets.com/

AROS #4 and 5–Catching Up

Image by niiicedave via Flickr

After a few days of travel and unpacking (still not settled) I’m trying to catch up. The drive between Reno and Palm Desert provided much inspiration: high desert, mountains, Mount Whitney, Owens Valley and the starkness of the Mojave. Here in Coachella Valley all is verdant and serene. The mountains separating us from the ocean are snow-covered, the skies blue, and sunsets are splendid.

AROS #4
Sweetness
Mother Nature dusts
the mountains to the East
with confectioner’s sugar.

AROS #5
Fog
Mother Nature shakes out a quilt,
covers Owens Valley in soft white fluff.

This week I will not be able to post a Wordsmith Wednesday column. I will try to make up for it next week. Happy writing. Enjoy the process.

Submitted to a River of Stones: http://ariverofstones.blogspot.com/