Skiing The other day I was at our cabin. A powdery snow fell at night And I awoke to a stellar glory Of pine and sky and crystals. I headed out on cross country skis Along the roads that snake around Rosita. Honeysuckle, Chokecherry, and Paintbrush Entwine our subdivision of Blumenau. The roads are rarely covered enough For skiing and I shuss-shussed along. But I soon became bored and realized My Nordic affliction. The roads were too gentle and wide. There was no twist or fear or corner. It was just one long stride after another. And I realized how like life this is. The speedy downs thrill And the steep ups challenge But the flats stifle. Riding the joys of life downhill is easy And humping up the steeps is hard but At least you make progress and perhaps People help you along the way. But the interminable flats are weary And perhaps this is why the pandemic Has so challenged. And why, as a torture, Sisyphus is made to roll the rock up the hill Again and again. It’s not the challenge of the task; It’s the boredom of the repetition. David C. Reynolds Mountain View Electric consumer-member
Snow Dunes Soft round drifts Curling around rocks In the snow-filled meadow. Hedgehog mounds With spiny shards of ice Perching on hidden rocks. Natural, clear ice-cycles Hanging from snow-laden trees Molting slowly in the sun. Weeds bent into corn-husk dolls With billowed, white aprons Eating dollops of ice cream snow. While I cross-country ski In the winter meadow. Carol Fortino San Isabel Electric consumer-member
Shadowlands Winter has come to the rangelands and brought with it diminishing light. Nebulous forms now blanket the sky obscuring the sun’s warming rays. Nature’s vast nursery of children, whose home is this stark shadowland, wander and paw at once fertile ground trying to keep hunger at bay. Antelope, dogs, horses and deer, domestic or wild at heart, rely on ones they fear the most to reach out and show them the way. For human hands are capable of great kindness and terror alike. Compassion dwells deep in each soul, though in some it’s more hidden away. Winter has come to the rangelands and with it the spirit of hope, that mankind and beast may soon live in peace – for this I will bow down and pray. Cynthia Bullock Mountain View Electric consumer-member