Tonight, for some reason more than usual, I am missing my dad. The snow has been dumping in the mountains, and he he would have been twitching to get into the mountains for some skiing or snowshoeing. I look at these pictures and remain angry as I imagine a strong, energetic man wasted away until he looked like a holocaust survivor. I try to figure out how to be a dad and wich he were here to teach me. How do you let go of that kind of frustration?
...
Dad was never really into poetry, but this reminded me of him anyway. It is a Gary Snyder poem called Off the Trail. Maybe he would have liked it. Our hikes typically went that way sooner or later, especially once we were in goat, elk and deer country. He's off the trail now...
...
"We are free to find our own way
Over rocks - through the trees -
Where there are no trails. The ridge and the forest
Present themselves to our eyes and feet
Which decide for themselves
In their old learned wisdom of doing
Where the wild will take us. We have
Been here before. It's more intimate somehow
Than walking the paths that lay out some route
That you stick to,
All paths are possible, many will work,
Being blocked is its own kind of pleasure,
Getting through is a joy, the side-trips
And detours show down logs and flowers,
The deer paths straight up, the squirrel tracks
Across, the outcroppings lead us on over.
Resting on treetrunks,
Stepping out on the bedrock, angling and eyeing
Both making choices - now parting our ways -
And later rejoin; I'm right, you're right,
We come out together. Mattake, 'Pine Mushroom,'
Heaves at the base of a stump. The dense matted floor
Of Red Fir needles and twigs. This is wild!
We laugh, wild for sure,
Because no place is more than another,
All places total,
And our ankles, knees, shoulders &
Haunches know right where they are.
Recall how the Dao De
Jing puts it: the trail's not the way.
No path will get you there, we're off the trail,
You and I, and we chose it! Our trips out of doors
Through the years have been practice
For this ramble together,
Deep in the mountains
Side by side,
Over rocks, through the trees.
...
Peace,
Matt
