4.01.2008

Postcards from Chelan: Road Trip Day 3

At the beginning of our third day I discovered a beautiful creek while walking the dogs along the lake shore. On our daily road trip we headed down the Columbia River to explore new territory. It was so pleasant to have sunshine again! The Columbia reminded me of my years living in the Tri-Cities further south. JEJ kept talking about a tunnel that he remembered, but the tunnel was never found. As we drew closer to Chelan coming back on a different route we found the tunnel he had remembered. It does look like it was just drilled through a mountain of rock. I guess it was!
It seemed like a long ride,and it was nice to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Annie kept watch to make sure we were heading back to the campground so she could watch her new best friends the squirrels. Shelby was worn out and used Annie as a pillow.

When we arrived back to the campground the evening was mild enough to have our first campfire of the year. Too cold to eat outside, but nice for a little down time after our road trip.

Celebrating National Poetry Month: Poem #1

"Inaugurated by the Academy in April 1996, National Poetry Month (NPM) brings together publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools, and poets around the country to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events.Inaugurated by the Academy in April 1996, National Poetry Month (NPM) brings together publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools, and poets around the country to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events." To learn more about National Poetry Month and a whole lot of other valuable information about poetry go to www.poets.org .


Today begins National Poetry Month. As I did last year, I will be posting a poem a day to celebrate the art and beauty of poetry. You can view thirty diverse poems in my April 2007 archives. I will introduce thirty new ones this year.
Today, as I continue to enjoy the quiet surrounding of Lake Chelan in central Washington state, this poem was very appropriate.
Lake Chelan
They call it regional, this relevance-
the deepest place we have: in this pool forms
the model of our land, a lonely one,
responsive to the wind. Everything we own
has brought us here: from here we speak.

The sun stalks among these peaks to sight
the lake down aisles, long like a gun;
a ferryboat, lost by a century, toots
for trappers, the pelt of the mountains
rinsed in the sun and that sound.


Suppose a person far off to whom this lake
occurs: told a problem, he might hear a word
so dark he drowns an instant, and stands dumb
for the centuries of his country and the suave
hills beyond the stranger’s sight.


Is this man dumb,
then, for whom Chelan lives
in the wilderness? On the street you’ve seen
someone like a trapper’s child pause,
and fill his eyes with some irrelevant flood-
a tide stops him, delayed in his job.


Permissive as a beach, he turns inland,
harks like a fire, glances through the dark
like an animal drinking, and arrives along that line
a lake has found far back in the hills
where what comes finds a brim gravity exactly requires.

William Stafford 1914-1993

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