a poem in my pocket

How are we wandering Americans to know it’s Canada’s provincial parks camping weekend?  Of course, all campgrounds from Jasper to Banff are overflowing so we drive on. Sun is setting low over the pass when we find a lonely parking lot near trailhead where we can park our pickup camper for the night. Tired of riding, we decide to check out the trail as dusk settles on forest.

Light fades fast in the high country, exaggerating shapes and shadows.  Full skirts of fir trees appear as dark illustrations straight from the Brothers Grimm.  My apprehension only serves to amplify the crunch of pine needles and sounds of skittering.  We meet last pair of hikers coming back down trail and I note they have walking sticks equipped with bear bells.

night envelops trees

alpine woods bathed in shadow

autumn falls early

Poets at dVerse are writing haibuns and “forest bathing” this week!