Le Conte Canyon

Le Conte Canyon

 

 

 

Fishing for trout with a pole and spinning reel,

Fly and transparent bobber,

The fly tied on below the float.

Water rushed by falling over

The obstacle rocks and fallen trees

Making  eddies and currents.

I cast across the stream

And pulled the fly and bobber back across,

Baiting the trout,

Invisible in their beautiful camouflage

Where they station themselves near the stream bottom,

The most fortunate place to wait for insects,

Dart to the surface,

And return.

They are very hard to see,

Sometimes I noticed the fish shaped shadows

And from them I could find the trout.

After a long day looking

Into the sparkling sunlight on the water,

I finished fishing.

Kneeling near the stream I untied my bait,

And while intent on this

A sense of the stream's movement came over me,

Like after skating,

Or after spinning in circles.

I smiled to myself and looked at the water,

It was bright and had made my head hurt a little.

I closed my eyes and was surprised to be looking

Close up at a trout head on,

At its open mouth, and its eyes.

 

Mosquitoes

 

 

In the evening when the mountain hides the sun

And everything is shadowed,

I would go to the stream edge

And sit down comfortably on a sloping rock.

I looked up and down the open area in the forest

Made by the stream

And saw the mosquitoes flying.

As they flew they reminded me

Of small white glowing thistles from a dandelion

Floating in the air.

I wore a long sleeved shirt

And insect repellant on my hands and face

To protect my skin against their bites.

The mosquitoes are food in the evening

For the rainbow trout

And small round grey birds

With dark freckles on their breasts.

The birds fascinated me,

I sat a long time and watched them,

So long and still the nerves in my legs went numb.

There was a log jamb nearby,

The tangle of old barkless white pieces of trees

Was where the birds would sit, and hop about,

And make short fluttering forays into the air

To catch mosquitoes.

On the stream trout were breaking the surface,

Making circling ripples and

Sometimes leaping free of the water.

Looking down the stream

As far as I could see in either direction,

The little brown birds were darting into the air

From the stream's edge and the forest trees

To catch the glowing white mosquitoes.

 

 

Bats

 

 

A few bats in the sky enchanted my thoughts.

I watched them fly above and among the pines.

In the distance, the mountain walls

Receded in succession down the canyon.

They were colored many shades of gray

And reminded my strongly of old Chinese landscape paintings,

So strongly that I wondered if I would ever to be able

To look at them and not think of that resemblance.

 

 

Twilight bats dive and turnabout

Directed by sounds silent to my ears

Like airborne baseball gloves

Swooping in the night

To catch winged bugs

With their leather webs.

 

 

I wrote that a long time ago

After having seen a film on bats

Showing them in slow motion.

Above the canyon a half moon and a few stars.

Yesterday, like a lizard on its rock,

I lay in the sunlight beside the stream.

I shaded my eyes to look

Up into the blue sky and bright mountains.

Near the top of one I saw a large bird,

A hawk, an eagle, soaring with the rising air current.

Its wings never flapped as I watched it glide

Across the mountain face until it came to a saddle

Where there was a waterfall, and trees, and disappeared.

 

Dolphinwords

 

 

Le Conte Canyon is often compared to the Valley, but it is very narrow, and only accessable on foot.  It could be a day hike from South Lake, though very strenuous!  Up over Bishop Pass, and then back up and up from the Canyon.  I backpacked, twice, first time I stayed right where the trail first reaches the stream, the location of the poem, and the second time I stayed one night there, and then continued north and came out at North Lake--a great loop hike!  Prior to these two hikes, I had hiked once before in the Sierra, from Tahoe to Tuolumne, and that was all!   This to say my times in the Sierra were not very long...oh, wait, I worked for three months in Giant Forest. 

 

Anyway, I wrote this poem up back then, 1987 or so, and like it very much, as it takes me right back!   My writing, I've been thinking lately, is somewhere between purple prose, and rhymed poetry.  (oh wait...I checked meaning of purple prose, and it's not quite what I mean by it...my thought is that I come up with a lot of near rhymes, which in journalism get edited out...and alliteration is what I mean, see wiki link),  Purple prose (alliteration!) as I have a knack for that, and between because I just don't work things out to make the rhymes at line ends, which is fun to do, and often, I don't know, makes the poem too...one wonders what else is there that rhyme schemes can bring.  In transcribing it for posting, I find my poem like a dream recollection.

 

The little gray birds must have been Black Phoebes, and I must, if I can, go back and check!  I say if I can as I don't know if I can go back and forth to the Canyon over Bishop Pass.  I could go to the Health Club and workout on the step machines and walkers, oh but I really don't want to be stationary moving!  Today, I ordered up a drop handle road bike, Giant Defy 5.  The beach cruiser on any long roll will wreck my knees, and give me saddle sores!  But it will remain good for short rolls, as it is very comfortable.  I'm thinking with the road bike I can go places like the East Side along 395 in the Fall.  395 has nice wide shoulders thereabout. 

 

Red and Black 

 

"Do you ride much?" the salesgirl asked.

"A bit, I had a Specialty, cost about the same, but just five gears, and it was swiped...   I was in the mountains, and went for walks, but there's no walking much here..."

"Ohhh..." she said in sympathy. 

I flapped my arms.

"What size?" she asked.

"Large.."

We looked about, bikes in rows, very expensive bikes!  One was the right model, but too small...

"Maybe this one..."

I hadn't looked up, bikes hanging from the ceiling...

"No, too small..." she went to check, and returned, "we have one in back, needs to be assembled...it's red and black."

"Oh!, that's fine, you have a sale!"

 

DolphinWords

 

Pick it up tomorrowmorrow...