I haven’t been writing much this summer. Between the smoke and other problems, I’ve been distracted from the writing desk. The Caldor fire is started to be contained and evacuation orders are being lifted. The air quality here is better, but still not so good – at least the yard doesn’t smell like a campfire. Below is a poem I’ve been working on for sometime. It’s still raw, but if you can think of any improvements for it, let me know in the comments.
Mowing the Lawn in the Desert Virginia Range looming over the garden shed. Morning perfume of pine and dirt mixed with a touch of damp. Memories of camping among the lodgepole pines with the music of crystal clear water over rock. Quiet voices and the gentle creak of bear lockers echo off the peaks as we made our way to the restrooms Smell of bacon rising above the wisps of vapor from the small cook stove. The orange light of dawn pushing up from the dip between the peaks casts a weak light over the shed and lawn. An electric mower. A click as the battery slides home. Children climbing rocks and jumping in rivers is replaced by the gentle hum of blades cutting grass. The Shangri-la of the camp fire and marshmallows replaced by the smell of chlorophyll from a manicured lawn.
This brought back such wonderful memories of camping (before the campgrounds were more crowded than the cities). Lovely!
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I loved those old camping days.
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I’ve never mown on a lawn in the desert, but many of your sensory images are familiar to most of us anyway. Delightfully written, Andrew! You conjured up many pleasant memories of my own.
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It can be a strange thing to do, but it just generate lots of memories.
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Wonderful poem with excellent imagery!
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Thank you.
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I really enjoyed the excellent imagery, Andrew. In my imagination I could engage with all my senses. Very well done.
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Thank you.
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I think this is a great poem, Andrew. I can relate to it very well.
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Thank you
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I definitely like the sensory images.
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This poem was about sensory memories. I like writing poems like that.
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I often wonder if those who move to the beautiful desert miss the greenery and lawn. I realize that all desert isn’t without grass, but my ex-inlaws moved from the Chicago area to the Arizona desert and the yard was more dry dirt than growth. It was kept well and pretty – but in a different way. I love the smell of mown grass. Being a girl who moved to the ocean from the midwest, I would miss the ‘touch of damp’. I always hear of the ‘dryness’ of the desert. But then again, I love the cold and snow, so I am somewhat unusual in that. But that is what makes the world work- right? We all prefer different types of beauty. One day I would love to visit that area though. I loved the poem. It brought lovely pictures to my mind. 🙂
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The desert has its own beauty but sometimes I do miss the green. Water shortages do limit how much lawn you can have. The lawn at my house was planted by the previous owner and I’ll likely be reducing how much we have, but a small section or two will remain.
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Very evocative. Only change I’d suggest is changing “made our way” to “make our way” to make it all in the present tense. And, I am so curious about what bear lockers are…
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That’s a good change. A bear locker is a big steel box installed at campsites at Yosemite where you put your food so the bears don’t tear your car or campsite apart looking for something to eat.
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I should have guessed that. A good and necessary precaution.
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The bears will get anything outside the box!
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Yes.. I did a post once where I went camping with two female friends in college. All night long my German Shepherd was growling and running off into the forest and I’d upbraid her. The next morning adjacent campers informed us that there were bears all around us and Gretchen had been running them off. Of couse being naive to camping and that region, we just had our food in a cooler. Good girl!!!
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Some dogs are natural bear hunters.
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I’m glad the Caldor fire is being contained. That at least should make the air quality so much better for you Andrew, The Poem is excellent.
Hugs
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Things are getting better. Taken me awhile to get that poem just right.
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