I always thought change was fluid…but the Yellowstone mountains constantly change.
The mountains teach me change is solid. Yet each hour is different.
Cloud shadows, sun, peaks, rain, hills, snow, sand, boulders, gravel, grasses,
flowers, streams, trees, lakes, pines, fire, cactus, sagebrush, dandelions and daisies. Grizzlies, buffalo,
white pelicans, wolves, antelope, elk, snakes, fish… all call it home.
Big Sky—Montana.
Shirred cliffs—with history etched on the walls of ancient glacial fissions.
Parched acres of charred pine trunks, witness the change and birth by fire.
Lighting strikes. Leaves a touchstone of nature’s power, ignites. The infectious flames consume until the sky quells death—with snow, rain.
Winds blow the torch of fiery death and sow the seed of new life.
Charred trunks, stripped of ornamental glory stand erect as ship’s masts. Other giant poles felled—criss-cross the forest’s floor—make room for the future. Beds of nutrients remain; spawn.
New green covers the land, sprouts pine—its young promise cleared to grow.
Your insight is as rich as the landscape. A road trip is good for the soul, the freedom we have, like the Buffalo, should never be taken for granted. Welcome back.
What a lovely comment. Thank you Polly.
How beautiful ! When I think about “Americas greatest Idea ” Yellowstone overwhelms me so hard to explain how moved I was by this earth . In that busy place, the people working were so happy to be in all that beauty. Made me very thankful for this wonderful country and the forethought of our elders to preserve the land for our enjoyment. If you get a chance go… I can’t wait to go back!
Kris. This beauty mirrors you and your spirit. Thank you.
Wow, Montana is so beautiful! And I really like your poem too…
Thank you. I appreciate your words. Adagio