Unparalleled Beauty

When we visited Alberta Canada, I loved the Canadian Rocky Mountains so much I wanted to live there if I could.  The mountains and lakes are spectacular with an unparalleled beauty.  The only downside is the Rockies are famous all over the world and bus load after bus load of tourist. particularly from Japan and China crowded the restaurants and rest areas.  We were traveling by car so we could travel backroads and visit areas away from the tour buses.  I tried to keep the human race out of my photographs. 


What does "Unparalleled Beauty" mean?
Unmatched in magnificence that which cannot be produced by humans"  

Kings River Canyon

Muddy Water

Look out for me, oh muddy water
Your mysteries are deep and wide
And I got a need for going some place
And I got a need to climb upon your back and ride

You can look for me when you see me comin'
I may be runnin' I don't know
I may be tired and runnin' fever
But I'll be headed south to the mouth of the Ohio

Look out for me, oh muddy water
Your mysteries are deep and wide
And I got a need for going some place
And I got a need to climb upon your back and ride

Well, I been down to the pain and sorrow
Of no tomorrows comin' in
But I put my pole to the river bottom
And I've got to hide some place and find myself again

Look out for me, oh muddy water
Your mysteries are deep and wide
And I got a need for going some place
And I got a need to climb upon your back and ride
By Roger Miller

Song of the Open Road

 

Song of the Open Road

by Walt Whitman


A FOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road.

The earth—that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any nearer;
I know they are very well where they are;
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens;
I carry them, men and women—I carry them with me wherever I go;
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them;
I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return)

The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls

The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls    

                               

The tide rises, the tide falls,

The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;

Along the sea-sands damp and brown

The traveller hastens toward the town,

      And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,

But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;

The little waves, with their soft, white hands,

Efface the footprints in the sands,

      And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls

Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;

The day returns, but nevermore

Returns the traveller to the shore,

      And the tide rises, the tide falls.

 

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Rushing Waters of the Klamath River

The Old Men Admiring Themselves In The Water - Poem by William Butler Yeats


I HEARD the old, old men say,
'Everything alters,
And one by one we drop away.'
They had hands like claws, and their knees
Were twisted like the old thorn-trees
By the waters.
I heard the old, old men say,
'All that's beautiful drifts away
Like the waters.'                         

Burney Falls Loop Trail

Burney Falls is considered one of the most spectacular waterfalls in the state of California. It is located in the Cascade mountains, forty miles north of Lassen Volcanic National Park.  The falls are given their longevity by the release of meltwater from porus volcanic rock from the surrounding mountains.

McArthur-Burney Falls

The Waterfall

I do not ask for youth, nor for delay

in the rising of time's irreversible river

that takes the jewelled arc of the waterfall

in which I glimpse, minute by glinting minute,

all that I have and all I am always losing

as sunlight lights each drop fast, fast falling.

I do not dream that you, young again,

might come to me darkly in love's green darkness

where the dust of the bracken spices the air

moss, crushed, gives out an astringent sweetness

and water holds our reflections

motionless, as if for ever.

It is enough now to come into a room

and find the kindness we have for each other

-- calling it love -- in eyes that are shrewd

but trustful still, face chastened by years

of careful judgement; to sit in the afternoons

in mild conversation, without nostalgia.

But when you leave me, with your jauntiness

sinewed by resolution more than strength

-- suddenly then I love you with a quick

intensity, remembering that water,

however luminous and grand, falls fast

and only once to the dark pool below.                         

By Lauris Dorothy Edmond (1924 - 2000)

New Zealand Poet & Writer

Yosemite Thru a Photographer's Eye

 

Bridalveil Fall

  

Bridalveil Fall is located in Yosemite National Park.  Ansel Adams is my favorite nature photographer.  He took a picture of Bridalveil Fall in 1927 when there was no drought that California has been experiencing in the last few years and no tourist.  Now days, water levels are low and many rivers and lakes are dried.  Here is a link to his gallery http://anseladams.com

Ring of Fire Lassen Peak

Before the 1980 eruption of Mount Saint Helens in Washington, Lassen Peak was the most recent volcanic outburst in the contiguous 48 states. The peak is the southernmost volcano in the Cascade Range, which extends from here into Canada. Lassen Peak is but one of the active, dormant, or extinct volcanoes that extend around the Pacific Ocean in a great "Ring of Fire".

Deep Blue Waters

Crater Laker has a depth of 1,943 feet (592 meters) which makes it the deepest lake in the United States, and the ninth deepest in the world. The color of the lake is a stunning blue and considered one of the most pristine lakes on earth.  Fortunately, it was a clear day and the lake colors were vibrant!

The path to Arcady

The Forest Path

Oh, the charm of idle dreaming
Where the dappled shadows dance,
All the leafy aisles are teeming
With the lure of old romance!

Down into the forest dipping,
Deep and deeper as we go,
One might fancy dryads slipping
Where the white-stemmed birches grow.

Lurking gnome and freakish fairy
In the fern may peep and hide . . .
Sure their whispers low and airy
Ring us in on every side!

Saw you where the pines are rocking
Nymph's white shoulder as she ran?
Lo, that music faint and mocking,
Is it not a pipe of Pan?

Hear you that elusive laughter
Of the hidden waterfall?
Nay, a satyr speeding after
Ivy-crowned bacchanal.

Far and farther as we wander
Sweeter shall our roaming be,
Come, for dim and winsome yonder
                      Lies the path to Arcady!                       
                                               

By Lucy Maud Montgomery

Secret and Forgotten Road

A Forest Path in Winter
 by Archibald Lampman

Along this secret and forgotten road
All depths and forest forms, above, below,
Are plumed and draped and hillocked with the snow
A branch cracks now and then, and its soft load
Drifts by me in a thin prismatic shower;
Else not a sound, but vistas bound and crossed
With sheeted gleams and sharp blue shadows, frost,
And utter silence. In his glittering power
The master of mid-winter reveries
Holds all things buried soft and strong and deep.
The busy squirrel has his hidden lair;
And even the spirits of the stalwart trees
Have crept into their utmost roots, and there,
Upcoiled in the close earth, lie fast asleep.

Archibald Lampman, FRSC was a Canadian poet. "He has been described as 'the Canadian Keats;' and he is perhaps the most outstanding exponent of the Canadian school of nature poets." The Canadian Encyclopedia says that he is "generally considered the finest of Canada's late 19th-century poets in English." 

Rocky Pointe Trail

Patrick's Point is in the heart of California's coast redwood country. The State Park was named for Patrick Beegan, an Irish immigrant who originally called it Patrick's Ranch.

Tenaya Lake

The Lake

In spring of youth it was my lot
       To haunt of the wide world a spot
       The which I could not love the less-
       So lovely was the loneliness
       Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
       And the tall pines that towered around.

       But when the Night had thrown her pall
       Upon that spot, as upon all,
       And the mystic wind went by
       Murmuring in melody-
       Then- ah then I would awake
       To the terror of the lone lake.

       Yet that terror was not fright,
       But a tremulous delight-
       A feeling not the jewelled mine
       Could teach or bribe me to define-
       Nor Love- although the Love were thine.

       Death was in that poisonous wave,
       And in its gulf a fitting grave
       For him who thence could solace bring
       To his lone imagining-
       Whose solitary soul could make
       An Eden of that dim lake.

By Edgar Allen Poe