"I have always imagined that Paradise will be some kind of library." ~ Jorge Luis Borges

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Reflections on a summer well spent

Each summer, I retreat to the mountains.
I spend it nestled in a valley of a extinct volcano...



In my parents' old farm house...
By a mountain stream.
 
I spend my summers reading and writing, but also:
Finding old toys...(no comments about hoarders here, please)
 Having fun with family members...

Doing puzzles... 
 Hiking mountains...
Cooking meals...
Listening to old albums...
And taking photographs...
of animals

 

and flowers
 those planted by the wind
And those planted by my mother


I love my summers
 In the mountains
Where I am
Surrounded by trees
Which frame my visual and physical world
And sing a melancholy song 
On windy days 
When their tall thin trunks to scrape together.

I love my summers
 In the mountains
Where I am 
Surrounded by skies
Which dance each night
in technicolor and perform a nightly ritual 
en-robing 
the undulating sea of mountains 
in purple.




I love my summers
 In the mountains
Where I am 
Surrounded by the river
Which an ice age
and 23,000 years of erosion

Has left exposed
A post-volcanic stew

of granitic magma and basalt.



 
I love my summers
For when I am in the mountains
it is always enough.

Inspired by Cynthia Rylant's book, When I was young in the mountains.

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