June Road Trip

Clouds in the Big Horn Mountains close enough to touch.

Welcome to Thermopolis.

Thermopolis Hot Springs. Yes I had to touch.

A return trip to soak is in order.

Wind River Canyon waterfall hidden in a crevice.

Wind River fishing below Boysen Reservoir Dam.

Red Canyon. The picture doesn't do it justice.

Oregon Trail ruts. I swear they’re there. I just wasn’t tall enough to photograph them over the sagebrush.

Storm coming in over the Rockies.

Historical gold mine at South Pass.

Reflections in Bronze

Finished bronze Native American at the foundry.

Last week I was lucky enough to tour the Eagle Bronze foundry in Lander, WY. "Eagle Bronze, Inc. has been a worldwide leader in the creation and manufacturing of high quality bronze sculptures and stainless steel fine art sculptures since 1985. We specialize in custom bronze sculpture, outdoor bronze sculpture for your garden or front of your facility, sculpture restoration, repair, casting etc".(from the website)

We got to see all aspects of what it takes to cast a bronze, from taking the maquette, turning it into a plaster mould with an inner silicone or latex liner that captures all the detail, pouring in liquid wax, removing the solidified hollow wax model, removing any mould marks and seams on the wax. Even fingerprints will be duplicated in bronze if they are there.

Then a ceramic shell is built up around the wax model, it is placed in a kiln and the wax is melted out. The ceramic shell is placed on a bed of sand and filled with liquid metal, in this case, bronze. Once the shells are cooled, the ceramic shell is broken away and the bronze sculpture is revealed. Then it is just a matter of chasing the seam lines and polishing. Eagle Bronze can also cast in stainless steel. Casting a big project can take a year or more.

Some of the sculptures are so big, they have to be assembled, cleaned up and coated with a patina, then cut apart in order to ship, to be reassembled where it is going to be placed. They also make bronzes down to the small tabletop size. Artists come from all over the world to supervise the process of casting their artwork, including Arturo Di Modica, who did the famous Wall Street Bull. Eagle Bronze also did the cattle drive sculpture in Pioneer Plaza in Dallas, TX, that consists of 49 bronze cattle and three bronze trail riders. 65 bronze cattle are planned.

Rather large horse. (Photo snitched from Eagle Bronze website)

Another huge horse being assembled and polished.

Horse parts waiting to be assembled. That leg part is about 6 feet long.

Stainless steel shark being polished to a mirror finish.

Lion broken out of his mould and being finished.

Large sculpture of a bear chastising a little Native American boy. What you can't see is the little arrow sticking out of the bear's backside. Love the expression on the bear's face.

 

The Value of Silence

What nature gives, nature can also take away.

Last week the lights went out. Along with the power for everything in our house. It was heralded by an unbelievably loud crack of thunder and stab of lightning. The house plunged into darkness. And silence. This time of year we have air conditioners and fans running. Corgis don't do well in the heat. We want them to be comfortable. The background noise is something you get used to. Now it was gone, along with the quiet hum of the refrigerator and various background sounds of electrical appliances. The house was completely still. It was a bit of a shock. I grabbed my phone and used it as a flashlight to check the fuse box. Not us. We waited patiently for everything to come back on. Electrical crews usually worked fast. Nothing happened. The outage must be big. I got a glimpse of what the term 'deathly silence' meant. I could hear a ringing in my ears as if the sounds were still there.

We grabbed our flashlights and made our way to the front door and out onto the porch. The whole neighborhood was black. No street lights, no porchlights, like a ripple the darkness spread out. We turned off the flashlights and stood watching the show of lightning as it sliced toward the ground and horizontally, cloud to cloud. The thunder finally reduced to occasional grumbles as the storm moved away. It was peaceful. And dark, did I mention dark? As I got used to it, I began to enjoy it. The dogs sat with us, not digging the storm or thunder. Sitting in the dark, petting a dog, I was content. There wasn't even any of that lingering nervousness that a diet of pre-teen horror movies could bring on. This was a good quiet, one born of nature, the feeling you get when you camp in a meadow and look up at the stars.

What a contrast to the day they cut a fiber optic line and our cable, internet, and cell phones went down. It was like cutting junkies off from a fix. I found myself turning to my phone to find updates, only to realize my phone was a brick to the outside world. The world shrunk down to the space I occupied. And it lasted for hours. Our work is tied to the ability to access the Internet. I played games on my phone that didn't require a connection. I cleaned my office. I filed papers. Finally, after a few hours, I went home. Somehow being home with no connections is better than being at work. I wondered what it would be like to lose electrical service and all the other connections all at the same time. Unplugged from the world. I'd like to think I'd take the time to sit, and get in touch with my inner Constance.

What would you do if cut off from power and the rest of the world? 

*Lightning photo courtesy of Pixabay.

Broken Things

Let us speak today of broken things....

...of rock slabs sliding their way to dust...

...and of trees that push up between rocks then die in their presence...

...of trees that escape their boundaries and are swept away to new places...

...or do not fall quietly in a forest, but loudly for all to hear...

...only to end up as something valuable, like firewood in a broken rock fireplace.

What things do you see that are broken, but end up being something else? Do you fix it, or repurpose it?  Are broken things necessarily bad? Or useless? What's broken in your life?

Sauntering toward Summer

Butterfly on lilac bush.

Only a few weeks left until summer and my lilac bushes finally decided to bloom. Out of 14 bushes, only the one with white lilacs had opened up last week. The others remained tightly closed, or looked as if they weren't going to bud at all. When I drove up to the house yesterday evening, all the bushes had open blooms on them. Seemingly overnight both flowers and butterflies exploded outward to worship the sun. After a spring with good water, the bushes are heavy with flowers, a sight for eyes weary of the slow unfolding of spring. I stop on the way in the house to inhale the aroma of lilacs. The purple lilacs crisp and refreshing, the pale purple a bit faded with grassy undertones, the white lilacs a deep and intoxicating scent that sears itself into my brain.

In the rest of the yard, the cottonless cottonwood looked dire, no buds we could see last week. Had it been winter killed? Suddenly yesterday I saw leaves everywhere. big enough to hide the little birds that sang to me in the morning. I had given up on Mother Nature, but she had not given up on me.  Little by little late spring blooms unfold, and baby animals cavort in green pastures. I store up the sights and sounds - and smells - for the days when inevitably the landscape grows dry, colors fade to olive and brown, and the predominate smell is that of wildfire on the breeze. I take some time each day to step outside and devour the sights and smells. I snap pictures with my phone but that isn't enough to preserve the season. Mother Nature moves forward, whether I like it or not. My brain is the greatest recorder of the seasons, and I try and fill every nook and cranny so I can remember the pollen dusted wings of a Monarch butterfly, the contented buzz of a bumblebee at work, and the heavenly scent of lilacs wrapped around me like a spring shawl. My fickle heart already turns toward summer, and wonders what sights, smells and sounds will trickle inward, ready to be preserved for the white page of winter.

Wyoming Spring - Views from a Ranch

View from a ranch, One.

View from a ranch, Two.

View from a ranch, Three.

View from a ranch, Four.

View from a ranch, Five.

My escort, Milo.

Embracing Poetry Mind

Poetry Mind can be a challenge, an obstacle, or a puzzle that guides you to the top of the mountain.

My brain has taken a mini vacation the past few weeks, occupied with getting through the holidays and on into the new year. It was a fallow time, with little creative writing going on. I suddenly realized I needed to get myself back into "Poetry Mind" to get myself back into writing.

Poetry Mind is that state where the possibilities for poems seem endless. Chance encounters, the color of the morning sunrise, a package that arrived in the mail all become fodder for new poems. After editing a manuscript steadily through Oct-Nov-Dec I was not keen on just editing more poems. I want the thrill of the new. I wanted to fall in love with a poem all over again.

To help my journey back to poetry mind, I tend to do a version of the old wedding saw, "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue". Something old is rereading a poetry book I know and love, and losing myself in the language. It doesn't even have to be poetry, I reread Lord of the Rings to lose myself in Middle Earth - when I come out the other side, I am refreshed. The familiar brings confidence.

Something new is usually getting a new poetry book by an author I've always wanted to read, or picking up a few literary journals I haven't read before. There is a sense of excitement as I turn the pages. Who knows what new and inspiring poem will shoot forth from the page to worm its way into my brain? Maybe it's a new way of looking at word play, a turn of phrase or deft language handling that will twig my Poetry Brain.

Something borrowed means I appropriate an image or a line from a poem and use it as a jumping off point. I twist it, turn it, hold it upside down and shake vigorously. If it's firing on all cylinders, Poetry Mind takes off with a roar, or at least burns some rubber. Poetry Mind likes to play catch with its friend, What If? Together, they are excellent jump starters.

Finally, we have something blue. To me this means I need to get outdoors, go for a hike, take in a park, commune with nature in any way, shape or form. Deep breaths of fresh air coupled with a panoramic view of Mother Nature soothes my Poetry Mind and leaves it open to the possibilities. A dash of all four somethings, contemplated, usually provides the motivation to get me back in the state I need to be to write. Poetry Mind.

How do you reach your Poetry Mind?

A Few Eagles For Your Day

Bald eagle, hanging out by the roadside, waiting for lunch to wander by.

Sometimes lunch wanders in front of a car. Eagles aren't picky.

In case you were wondering, these aren't small birds. That's a full grown doe he's feasting on.

High in a dead tree, calling to others of her kind.

Even with a telephoto lens, the birds were aware and kept a wary eye on me.

What's better than one eagle? Two or more. Watching, always watching.

Birdbrained

Feeder finch waiting his turn for more seeds.

Other birds were not so polite. Bottoms up!

New kid on the block. He's in for a rough winter.

Waiting for his dinner, too.

We made it through Thanksgiving. Nanner, nanner.

A Hunting We Will Go

I like to hunt with my camera. I think the deer appreciate it because they allowed me to get pretty close.

In my travels I get to see interesting landscapes. A few stubborn leaves hang on, despite the wind.

Mule deer had more curiosity than sense. Or I'm short enough to be nonthreatening.

I love the ears. They ought to be able to hear anything coming a mile away.

The sound of running water over rocks kept me distracted at times.

The stare down.

What remains hidden in the trees?

A few more pics and the deer went bounding away, into the trees.