Sunset on the High Desert
July ended a true firework show.
In the course of three days, my brother, Andrew was married in a floating gazebo over a pond in the woods, and my grandmother saw the ocean for the very first time. It was her 52nd wedding anniversary.
It doesn't get much more magical than that, does it?
And, in a few days, I'll be back on the Western side of the state to lace my dear friend, Michele Ruby, into her glittery Kate Miles wedding gown.
I'll probably write more on all three subjects later, but for now I'll share a few photos and a poem from an especially magical high desert sunset over my family's farm in Central Oregon.
sunset on the high desert
Aug 8, 2018
if i were far away
i’d wish i were a slick blade of grass
or a falcon’s smooth feathered belly
a horse's star on a glowing brow
or a shimmering cactus quill
i’d mirror the evening’s colors
cool and billowing
warm and electric
moreover i’d long to be part of that song
for each wave of sound
yipping coyote pups,
ticking of sprinklers
a full orchestra
set with crystal droplet bells
— they tickle the fields green:
emerald sea of whispered laughter
rolling over the very curve of the earth
i’d wish for a fragrant head of yellow blooms
smiling up at the sky with sweet tasting dew
— it clings to the air in a slow waltz
maybe i'd be a halo
growing small around the reddening sun
and long 'round the linen slivered moon
but most of all i would dream
to be where you are
the purple light on your skin
the sage smile on your chin
and in the end i'd win