September 22, 2016
I've mentioned a friend of mine named Amy Pearson, who worked at the super-remote Jumbo Lookout a summer ago. She's a poet with a lovely vision, a view of the world that I appreciate, and her fire-lookout writings resonate with me. Here's a poem from her Jumbo Lookout summer ... except for the cigarettes, it could pretty much apply to my mountaintop days, too.
your life is
boiled coffee in the morning
a swift glance towards the unending horizon
a lookout for that griz and cubs
grouse chirping on the rock ledge
sunlight streaming through the windows
weather reports to give, to receive
radio clatter
an eye on the smokes calmed down since last night
a rationing of cigarettes
a dream of family and friends
a dream of foreign lands once seen
a rationing of water
tired legs and creaky knees
radio clatter
a trip down to the pit toilet, bearspray in hand
an open day set out before you,
only you
And in that vein, here's another photo from last month at Baptiste Lookout. Just a handheld shot with an iPhone, but I liked how it turned out.
