I’ve walked this path
1000 days
seasoned with snow sun mist
it changes how you look
an eagle’s nest hides in that tree
each day I marvel all the same
stories spin around that tree
the river hides in that stretch
the edge of the water hides down that bend
I remember the stones dappled with snow
the river was calm then
the salmonberry are in fruit
the spray of wild roses
fills this stretch with subtle savour
soon the blackberry thicket will blossom
the cottonwoods rain down like snow
on the deafening rush of spring melt
the end of this grove
opens a vast marsh
forest silhouettes the fog edge
of white mountains beyond
I’ve walked this path
1000 days
seasoned with success failure melancholy joy
it changes how you look
I picked up this phrase “it changes how you look” from a poem by Heather McHugh called “Acts of God” – she picked it up directly from a woman describing how it felt to get struck by lightning. I’ve been fascinated by the duplicity of this phrase ever since. The photo is actually from a stream that feeds into the river far upstream in the mountains. – Jim