Another walk with Kirby

Where are we going now? Huh? Huh? Huh?

Knowing that these are some of the last days I will be spending here as a resident I have been keenly aware of how the landscape has been showing off for me these past few days, constantly reminding me of why I sought out this country in the first place. Into this colorfully phantasmagoric scene Kirby and I took a walk at dusk on Wednesday.

This has been a great place to peacefully reside and grow. A wonderful land to reflect upon and hopefully help illuminate for others. I used to read a poem by Carl Sandburg, at the end of one of my favorite campfire programs when I was a Zion ranger, which still speaks volumes about why I sought out this particular territory and why a part of it will always remain deep inside my soul.

March of the Hungry Mountains

Across Nevada and Utah
Look for the march of the hungry mountains.

They are cold and white,
They are taking a rest,
They washed their faces in awful fires,
They lifted their heads for heavy snows.

White, O white, are the vapors,
And the wind in the early morning,
White are the hungry mountains.

The tireless gray desert,
The tireless salt sea,
The tireless mountains,
They are thinking over something.
They are wondering, "What next?"
They are thankful, thinking it over,
Waiting, sleeping, drying their faces from awful fires,
Lifting their heads into higher snow,
White in the early morning wind.

"Come and listen to us,"
Said the marching, hungry mountains.
"You will hear nothing at all,
And you will learn only a little,
And, yet listening, your ears may grow longer and softer;
You may yet have long, clear, listening ears.
Come and listen" said the mocking, hungry mountains.

It's now time to put these long clear listening ears to good use for the next chapter in this wonderful life of mine.