Camping With Gary

…inspired by the brilliant poetry of naturalist Gary Snyder…
This poem loosely based oh his “A Walk” & “How Poetry Comes To Me”.


 

P eering over from cliff’s edge
high above the churning fall
of the steel-blue stream
I watch trout slide in then out
of the soft break of a bolder’s shade

across the stone canyon
cut by this persistence of current
an Osprey stands — focused sentinel
measuring the timing and tactic
of his imagined next meal

down the steep granite face
through the white aspen and Douglas fir
giant chinquapin and Oregon madrone
I descend at steady pace
bent-knee’d and cautious

I throttle and steer
with boot tread and leather palm
followed by a fine dusted slide
of clattering limestone pebble
and dry needle

down to the stream-side grass patch
then alertly hop
rock to rock
‘cross the dance of crystal chill stream
to make camp in this wilderness canyon
midst the quiet rush
of the Clackamas waters
and the hushed murmur
of tall Ponderosa bough

here to rest and meditate
mesmerized by this eden
and to commiserate with Mr Snyder

he’s tagged behind all afternoon
pestering my thoughts
with the urge of verse

finally
by this night’s fire
he approaches carefully
in words taking wafted form
rip’ling ‘cross the crisp white water
stumbling over the moonlit boulders
staying just outside my campfire’s light
just out of clarity

my muse in company
I invite Gary’s spirit
to join
inside this ring of light

he comes

I hear his words
voiced more distinctly
more clearly in my mind

I listen openly
under his influence
as words begin
falling to paper

 

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

In tribute to Gary’s zen lifestyle, and his embrace of Shugendo mysticism.
He currently resides and meditates in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains.

42 thoughts on “Camping With Gary”

    1. Thank you David. I have been so in tune with Gary Snyder’s writing spirit for such a long time. When I read Gary,I get the same kind of excited discovery that I get when I finish one of my personal pieces. As writers, we are spiritually aligned and both in love with the natural world, and offended by the way it is being abused!

      Reply

  9. I agree with David, Rob, Gary Snyder was the perfect choice for you. I can hear you reading this poem in my head and imagine the scene, so deeply drenched is your poem in the senses, especially in the lines:
    ‘I throttle and steer
    with boot tread and leather palm
    followed by a fine dusted slide
    of clattering limestone pebble
    and dry needle’.

    Reply

    1. Thank you Kim, and I agree Gary would be a dream meeting for me. I have, when I was healthy, come down a passable inside face of a cliff – and that is how it’s done. That is also the stuff that comes down with you… 🙂

      Reply

  14. This is a most exquisite tribute poem, Rob! I especially like; “finally by this night’s fire he approaches carefully in words taking wafted form rip’ling ‘cross the crisp white water
    stumbling over the moonlit boulders staying outside my campfire’s light.”

    Reply

    1. Thank you so much Rog! I am so drawn to Gary’s work through his entire career. I think he’d be great to sit down with some day and chat for as long as he’d allow.

      Reply

  20. I was not familiar with this naturalist poet. But I am certain your poem is a wonderful tribute. You’ve taken me with your imagery, to a very special place. Your description is superb….what I would think a naturalist would write when camped or hiking in his surroundings.
    You’ve struck a chord with me….a memory from my college days (1965 – 69). We had a geology professor, Fritioff Fryxell, Google him. He was retired (emeritus professor) by the time we got to college where he taught; probably close to 90, but he’d established an amazing geology museum there…one that is still sought out by many. He went to the museum to work almost every day of the week. He was beloved by students in my class as well as the many he’d taught in all those years before. Why your poem reminded me of him was his gift for writing. He climbed and was instrumental in learning the geology of the Tetons. When Grand Teton National Park was established in 1929, he was named the park’s first naturalist. We still have a copy of his took, The Tetons: Interpretations of a Mountain Landscape, that is inscribed with a note to my husband. My husband majored in geology, and became very close to the Fryxells….driving him back and forth to the college, as he was very frail in those days. Dr. Fryxell begins his book with these words:
    “When it was made a state in 1890, Wyoming was allowed to retain its old territorial name, which originated in an Indian word meaning the “large plains.” The name is as appropriate as it is beautiful, for nowhere are the Great Plains more truly great than in Wyoming. Here they spread out toward the far horizon in undulating swells and tablelands that follow each other in seemingly endless succession, in an expanse as vast and limitless as that of the ocean. Treeless, they offer no obstruction to a view of the splendid vault of heaven, where pass daylong processions of stately clouds, and where, at night, burn the stars with a brilliance and in a profusion rarely known in lower elevations and more humid climates. How spacious these landscapes are! ” Later, in describing the Tetons, he writes “Like organs playing in side chapels are the waterfalls within the canyons, each of tone and volume befitting its own sanctuary, yet scarcely audible when one steps out into the high vaulted chancel. ” I could go on. But I’m sure you see why your choice of poet brought Dr. Fryxell to mind. He was a scientist, a noted geologist who had an amazing gift with words and a love of this beautiful earth. Seems to me this is the stuff the poet you’ve chosen is made of as well.
    Apologies for the length of this….you’ve struck a chord with me indeed.

    Reply

    1. Wow Lillian. First, thank you for your gracious words about my poem. Second, thank you for sharing this wonderful story, and for introducing me to Fritioff Fryxell. His words you shared are beautiful. He sounds so similar to Gary Snyder. I invite you to google Gary if you have not done so already. Thank you for uour enthusiasm Lillian… 🙂

      Reply

  21. I was there with you and Gary, though you did not see me. I reveled in the beauty of nature and my love for it.

    Reply

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