The birds at play: when I can’t stand them any longer,
I go sleep in my thatched hut.
The cherries in the trees glow bright
as the tips of burning incense, and the willow branches sway.
Sun runs up green ridges.
Sunlit clouds wash in the green pool.
Everybody knows: if you want out of the dust,
head up the south side of Cold Mountain.
translated by J.P. Seaton in Cold Mountain Poems
Grand Teton National Park
I took today as a rest day in Grand Tetons National Park. The bulk of the day I spent hiking out to Hermitage Point about 4.5 mile south on Lake Jackson. I came back via a different route making it a loop and did some other side trails to Swan Lake and some beaches. Well over 12 miles of hiking I’m sure. Maybe not as much “rest” but a chance to spend some time in this magnificent park.
It was a sunny and clear day and it got pretty hot. But the mountains stood out against eh clear blue key like jagged cutouts. They just tower over everything. You’d come out of the trees and into a meadow and there would be Grand Teton towering above it all. The lakes and meadows and everything else was a joy to hike though, but it is all about losing yourself in those mountains.
at towering peaks
too immense to take in
the view shifts
and it is the mountain
gazing out at the
landscape in which
tiny forms flit all
about one of
which is just