dreams my father could not afford

Can you imagine how different things were in 1978 when R.L. Schmidt, Sr. was surprised by a blacking out of his vision and the ending of his conscious life on this earth? His world up until then is unrecognizable today.
  How many things we accepted as the norm then are gone now.  So many things that did not exist have come into being!  The populated world in this western hemisphere is nearly unrecognizable to 1978 eyes, and in some ways is becoming less acceptable, or less attractive to mine as well.  My refuge here in the mountains is a blend of new and old, so I feel a bit sheltered from the human caused chaos that seems so prevalent at lower elevations.
Some days and mostly on weekends, these mountains are filled with more people and more cars, more noise than I am accustomed to.  The good news is that there is still space, mostly empty and unspoiled just a hundred paces from the end of most roads, and reserved for hose with sturdy shoes and strong hearts.
  The really good news is that I will walk in the woods today, and celebrate my father's kind of world, with bird songs, the snapping of twig under foot and the whisper of a breeze coming through the pines. In walking I will prepare my legs and lungs for the hiking and climbing that is before me, and that takes me back to when and where we walked together on dusty trails to green meadows, over rock-strewn passes that challenged our physical bodies, passed vistas that we had no words to describe.
   When I walk with a pack on my back through stands of pines I do not have to think about or recall my father, I simply become him, because he in fact lives on in me, not only in the genetic ( DNA ) sense but in the words, the values and in the gifts he gave us that never faded, never tarnished and never lost their worth.
   Thank you to the father of all, for the gift of life and the gifts that only families give.  Thank you for the wild places and the freedom we feel when surrounded by the purity of creation. Forgive us for not seeing the truth and beauty that we are, and that we belong to. Teach us not to sin against you or each other by neglecting the gifts of faith, family and forest.

higher trails

i need to go back to my teens
when I followed men up trails away from asphalt
and away from phones, up into forest thick
and streams running clear

I feel the pull of high places, uncrowded spaces
lacking nothng, but wanting more
i will walk a dusty trail, wade a shallow stream
and go back to the days of Tang and powdered eggs
back to empty canteens but full vistas of monolithic granite
I will retrace the steps of my fathers best days
and give to myself the gift of a thousand moments full of grandeur

Today begins my plan and packing. within a month i shall be ready
to walk for a week in the company of small trees and giant rocks
to revel in the blending of my past and present
to recreate, and to regenerate.
if another strong soul wants to walk along, I welcome that.

early - even for me

the coyotes were singing tonight
at least that is how they imagine it
to humans, our ears only want it to be quiet at 3AM
so we may call it many other names.

There is something about living on the edge of the forest
where bears still roam and I suspect a deer or two.
we see so much wildlife it becomes passe.
the coyotes are seen some during early morning or late evening
but do their best work right through the graveyard shift.
Tonight a large group of them were having a meeting
just up the hill from us and since the night is deathly quiet
their several voices carried right in the open windows and filled my ears and my imagination.
I used to try imitating them, but I think I do a better Willie Nelson. Soon another pack from a half mile away answered the incredibly high calls with something of their own. I do not allow myself to think of this as language, but it does communicate, so what do I call it? I call it a gift, to be awake at 4 am and to have the freedom to think about these things because so many of the other things in my life are taken care of so completely. I have clean clothes to wear, food in the fridge, an strong roof over my head when it rains or snows. I am warm in the deep cushioning embrace of a very comfortable place and I appreciate it so much.