what do you do when you’re out for some air,
and suddenly you’re face to face with a bear?
please do not flee
he’s faster than you
do not climb a tree
he’s a good climber too
and do not play dead
or it may become true
despite what you read
there’s nothing to do
but send up a prayer, and give up those plans;
when facing a bear, it’s out of your hands.
–photo by me
The great white limousine
Rolled down the road to Destiny,
And in it sat four revered men
Of great authority.
Religion and Tradition graced
The seat that faced the rear,
While in the back with Science
Sat Philosophy so near.
Now when the road became so
Rough that forward progress slowed,
Philosophy said, “Gentlemen,
Let’s try another road.”
“I think he’s right,” said Science,
Shuffling papers on his lap,
“I’ve been collecting data,
And I’ve made a little map.”
Religion would not hear of it,
“‘Tis blasphemy!” said he,
“For God himself has set us on
This road to Destiny.”
“Religion’s right,” Tradition chimed,
“It’s been agreed upon.”
And as they argued endlessly,
The limousine rolled on.
And in the end, their driver,
Who was named Necessity,
Would find that he would have to
Choose the road to Destiny.
–Photo by me
when birds cross the road
we are always so quick to
question their motives
–photo by me
i’ll admit
it’s rather scary
when clouds in
life amass,
but storms are necessary–
and they always pass
–photo by me
in soft morning light
the deer’s sleek summer coat looks
more like a t-shirt
–photo by me
back in the spring of the year
there were hundreds of pelicans here
and tourists would flock
to this gorge of gray rock
and everyone was of good cheer.
but now it’s the end of july
the river has almost run dry
and all that was here
is gone till next year–
summer camp’s over. goodbye.
–photo by me
I can’t believe I’ve stumbled upon an old, abandoned house out here in the woods. Surrounded by a sea of wildflowers and encroaching trees, it reminds me of a great ghost ship on the stormy main. The tentacles of a giant sea monster have wrapped around her, and are ever pulling her down. Some day, she’ll go under.
when old houses fall
their delicious mysteries
go under with them
–Photo by me
the tiny chameleon tree frog
blends into the forest motif
as a gray little bump on a log
or a green little lump on a leaf,
and nobody knows where he goes
whenever he’s not on the ground,
but equipped with his suction-cup toes,
he’s sure to be hanging around.
–photo by me
there once
was a self-righteous man
who built
himself a tall, open tower
from which
he would peer out over
his world
to search for his soul.
every day,
he would climb the stairs
and scour
the heavens for it;
sometimes,
he felt it was near.
in time,
it was too much for him,
and the
self-righteous man died.
in silence,
his soul flew from the roof
–photo by me
I went looking for a nice flower foto for the blog. It was very hot out, but I just needed one good one, so I ventured into the woods and down to the pond. What a mistake!
Suddenly there were swarms of deer flies all around me. I took off running, but to no avail; they circled me like I was standing still. And then it got bad. They were in my shirt and under my glasses; I was afraid they would get in my mouth.
I ran blindly through the woods until I came back out on the road. Walking home, I was shaken and rather bummed that I didn’t get the shot, but so glad to be home. I was about to go in, when–you guessed it–there it was, not ten feet from my door: my flower foto!
–Photo by me
michaeljordahl 