yes, but what do they say?

I am pretty sure that the clouds are talking. Not to me, mind you. Just... talking.

The lambs are dead by now, I am quite sure

I was earnestly searching for lambs in March of 2009.

I found them not.

Marcy and Skylight

What Marcy looks like on a nice day.

What Marcy looked like the day I was there.
Skylight looked the same,
only darker, with hail, and no cairn.

So the next morning I ran up Phelps before backpacking out,
just to get a view.
This is Colden (left) and Algonquin (right) from Phelps.

Kamikaze Paparazzi

WARNING!!

Mothers of the World!

You may be subject to Paparazzi Attack at moments of extreme relaxation!

I post this video not to expose my pain but to demonstrate the extreme dangers of co-existing with teens.

Protect yourselves! Remain alert!

ding! 25

Big Slide was sweet, a lot of steep bare rock to scramble up.

The view from Big Slide: Gothics and The Range.
 How do you get over THERE?

Colden, finally

I finally got Colden. It would have been easier two months ago. There was rain, rotten snow and mud... but no black flies, yet. It was an intense, wet, foggy, cold trip. It made me really happy.

And this one advanced my standing with the Adirondack 46ers... http://www.adk46r.org/

...I am now ONE peak past the halfway point :D

Big Slide, next, I think.

The Mouth of a Stranger

Your love

Should never be offered to the mouth of a

Stranger,

Only to someone

Who has the valor and daring

To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife

Then weave them into a blanket

To protect you.

Hafiz (c. 1320-1389, Persia)

Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

from The Gift

waiting no more

The first hot day came

and it changed

everything.

It changed everything inside of me

and it changed everything outside.

The bloodroot bloomed,

and the colt's foot,

and the lazy, sensuous desire

to take off my jewelry

and stretch out on the forest moss

bloomed.

Still waiting

 Winter

Spring

Dog Holler

I lived down in Dog Holler most 'a 15 years. I miss it now, like I'd miss my hand, if'n somebody cut off my hand. Like I'd miss my foot, somebody cut off my foot.

I close my eyes, I still see the moon comin' up over Dog Holler Mountain. All big and white and beamin' down love juice all over them hills and trees. All over me. It stuck to me, that love juice. Ain't nothin' gonna wash it off now.

Biggest question I get asked up here, "Do you like livin' in Vermont?" Well, I like livin'. So, sure I like livin' in Vermont. But there ain't no redbud here. Ain't no dogwood. Ain't no sarviceberry. Ain't hardly no spring. Spring up here test your faith. That's resurrection, I s'pose. Can be a stickin' point for some folks. Me? I don't care whether it come out a seed, an egg, a womb or Christ's tomb. It's all the birth 'a love in the world. Up here, you just gotta wait longer 'n look harder. You remember I told you that: sometimes you gotta wait longer 'n look harder.

You can't hardly forget spring in Dog Holler, even you been through it but only once. Flowers everywhere. Locust tree stink up the air in the spring, all them flowers hangin' down. You ever seen a honey locust tree? Big thorns growin' all up the trunk. Oddest lookin' thing. If God had made the Tree 'a Knowledge a honey locust tree, ain't none of us be wearin' any clothes right now. I think God wanted Eve to eat that apple. Been easy enough get her to stop.

Anyway, I love all them trees down there. Shagbark hickory. Black walnut. Butternut. Horse chestnut. White oak. Red oak. Pin oak. My heart still want oak. Hawthorn, cedar, juniper. Virgin hemlock. You got the patience to walk to 'em, them trees'll show you some power. Copper beech, sycamore. Liriodendron tulipifera. Now she's a beauty, ain't no thorns on her. Roll around right nice in your mouth, don't it? Liriodendron tulipifera. I was in love with a whole grove 'a yellow poplar over on Dog Holler Mountain. I watched that patch 'a mountain turn yellow every fall.

And in the summer, chicory grow so thick, sit on my porch and watch the hay pasture turn hazy blue. First lark I ever saw looked right up at me outta that hazy blue. This minute, I can't think 'a nothin' more beautiful 'n that lark. 'Less maybe it's the mockin' bird singin' at night. Prettier 'n a silver flute, that is. Beauty drippin' outta that bird, right into me.

And it weren't just the trees and the birds, neither. Was the people, too. 'Cause I showed up 'bout as queer as a 3 dollar bill. People just let me be who I was and let me become whatever I was gonna become.
 
I remember the first time I drove up Dog Holler Road. First mile all in the woods. Then, bustin' outta the trees, this scene open up before me like a song outta my heart. Mountains all around, pastures full 'a thick green grass, dogwood in bloom, big white house with porch all around it. 

Like God was settin' a trap for me. He was. Settin' a trap. And I was so happy gettin' caught in it. Shoot, I like livin'. I wonder what trap God is settin' for me now? I guess, I wanna know, I'm jus' gonna have to wait longer 'n look harder. You remember I told you that.

Spring in Vermont

This here's a picture of spring in Vermont.

I am sure it is spring because, yesterday, I was caught out at Morning Sing for not having any spring songs ready. I was told, "But, Ms. Sanglier, this is spring in Vermont."

So today I decided to document this remarkable statement with photographic evidence. To be fair, as I took the above photo, there were robins hopping about near me and I heard the singing of red-winged blackbirds. I also noticed that the willow trees were showing a slightly enhanced shade of yellowish ochre, which can only mean one thing: it is, indeed, spring in Vermont.

And this is spring in Clover Hollow, same time of year... early April... same kind of weather... snow. But look across the road... the garden is plowed. And the redbud and wedding bush are in bloom. Now THAT is spring!

Your Beautiful Parched, Holy Mouth

A poet is someone

Who can pour light into a spoon,

Then raise it

To nourish

Your beautiful parched, holy mouth.

Hafiz (14th century, Persia) from I Heard God Laughing

Winter Peakage

  Wright Peak

I climbed Wright with my son on a perfect day in February. There was not a breath of wind. I set out my map on the peak and it stayed where I put it.

Colden is to the right.

Marcy in the middle distance.

Algonquin Peak

I climbed Algonquin alone a couple weeks after Wright. Tiny Mount Ascutney in Vermont was a harder hike because I had to break trail through ridge after ridge of hip deep snow with a bitter wind cutting down from the peak. Still, Algonquin is the one I feel like crowing about because of its wild and boar-like reputation.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

This is Colden.

I think I should hike it next.

Avalanche Lake

Past Marcy Dam

 Through Avalanche Pass

 









To Avalanche Lake

The harp partially revealed

Gathering Forces

While I manifest a video recording device (so that I may better showcase my utter lack of talent) I amuse myself by contemplating what it takes to perform: ego forces, soul forces, life forces, and vodka forces.

Note: Please be advised that Le Sanglier has been working on soul/spiritual development for many years. The appearance of the word many in front of the word years indicates that her life forces, due to natural aging processes, may have fallen below the threshold required for performing. Perhaps she should have been working on her technique all those years and left her ego and soul to their own devices. There is no question that she ought to have let her ardor for playing Chopin on the piano cool, particularly in the light of his continued indifference toward her. She can recommend the vodka, though. It is excellent.