Big Cedar Trail
Here I am, having come upon a place
deep enough to lose myself,
among emerald bouquets of Sword fern
thriving in the damp, dim light
as far as the
I can see. As the I can see – there it is again,
that stubborn “I”
but it’s loosening,
almost gone into the breath
of this verdant ravine
where redcedar soars, roots, spreads, and sits
as still and profound as two in the morning.
Just this, redcedar whispers.
__
Cool breeze scatters leaves
from an unseen place – the top of the hill?
The jagged black edge of the island? Or
do the wafting breaths emanate from
sixty miles east of here, over the dark Salish Sea?
Here, now, air manifests:
gentle waves of cedar boughs,
fluttering tips of elderberry leaves and prickly
bumps on the freckled skin of my old arms.
Mind focuses and releases in waves
like the the darting chipmunk
who was breathlessly still
a second ago. Moving then still,
in breath and out,
back and forth,
we are centered in this particular herenow
at the bottom of the green ravine
where the I loosens and
joins the forest.
***
***
bluebrightly 
What a beautiful poem!
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Thank you!
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I agree! And I love the shots as well; especially the low light in the last one. Eye for an I..
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That’s good to hear, Harrie, thank you very much.
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Brava!
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Gasho, Lenny. š
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Very well done from all artistic perspectives.
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Thank you! I appreciate that.
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You are very welcome
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Lovely prose and pictures, Miss Blue
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Good to hear from you, Don, and thank you kindly.
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Iām always amazed at how some people can take words and through some magic weave them into poems such as you have written. And wonderful photos to accompany them. You made my morning because I had just been reading about the idea of having a closer relationship with what you photograph!
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How nice, Howard, thank you very much! Something to think about. š
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I take it you use an Eye-Phone.
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Groan! Yes, I guess it has to be an eye-phone, not an iiphone. š
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Aye aye, captain.
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Wonderful pictures, and words too. š
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Thank you, Adrian, glad you enjoyed them.
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ššš I especially like #2!
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Thanks, Graham – Sword ferns are very photogenic. š
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When the body and the senses allow themselves to feel and capture what surrounds them, something always born. In this case, a poem and three photographs full of sensitivity!
Have a nice day!š
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Yes, Dulce, sometimes the ego gets out of the way easier than other times, right? š Thank you!
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Beautiful to breathe this in today. Lovely exhale. Thanks!
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THank you, Sheri.
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Lynn, you have described that feeling of immersion so well and so beautifully. And then, scrolling down, my own I loosens, and is immersed in your photographs.
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š How nice. Thank you, Linda….
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Words and thought completed by a lovely triptych of photographs. The bottom image… such intriguing emptiness.
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Thank you – late afternoon light in the forests is a beautiful thing. š
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I’m reading this at dusk on my balcony. I look up from your ferns and cedar to watch one more murder of crows fly back east, as they do every night, to their roost in Burnaby. Ferns, cedar, crows… they dance to the pulse of nature, across all time.
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And now I almost feel like I”m there with you — thank you so much, Penny, that’s beautiful.
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Your beautiful poem brought me right to here now. Stillness. Stopping. Lovely.
Alison
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Thank you so much, Alison.
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Those ancient trees are so incredible. I’m glad you got lost in their presence.
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I know you have, too, Jean. Thank you. š
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The poetress sitting in the woods and the colors are all in her words here. Great poetry, dear Lynn, and its music reminds me of Louise GlĆ¼ck’s Wilde Iris. I love your playful juggling with the I, it doesn’t fall, even though you send it flying around making close contact to trees and air. If possible, please give us more of this.
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You’re far too generous, Ule. thank you very much. As you know, the urge comes and goes, it can’t be forced or coaxed into existence.
Oh, your idea of the I flying around, that’s wonderful! Have a great day, OK? š
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I love the view up that cedar, Lynn.
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It’s a good feeling to stand next to the biggest trees. That one has a precipitous trail into a ravine, just so people can be with it – but so far it’s a very lightly traveled trail. I always like to circumambulate the big ones, pat them, and thank them. š
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Your photographs fit so well with your poetry. ā„ļø I love how you use black and white photos here. It shows more depth in them, especially with the tree photo. Your tree photoās angle is excellent also, particularly with how you mention feeling a part of everything in the forest. Youāve done a really good job here. Thank you for sharing this. š„°
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Thank you, Kyra, it’s nice to read comments that show the person really looked! š
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Your poetry brought me to that place, Lynn. The stillness and the quiet of a nature bath. And then boom, the stunning black and whites that meld so perfectly with your words. The powerful tree to your quiet ferns- I’m there. š
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Thank you, Jane. Sometimes the inspiration comes, often it doesn’t, but that’s fine. Until next time. š
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