Walisiyi, a.k.a. Mt. LeConte

 

the definition of a mountain

definition:

many mountains rise among and on top of each other,

one mountain, Walisiyi, a.k.a. Mt. LeConte,

rises abruptly from its base,

defining itself as unique,

brother and sister to its fellows, but standing out,

as if commanding the attention,

on top I feel it commands the view,

here on top, a homely lodge cradles on deep soil,

with great water and greater views,

unique again with such dependable water so close to the summit,

I sit here on the roofed porch of a 4 person cabin,

in a rocking chair gray and ageless as the clouds,

the valley below me as if in its plains truth,

clouds settle on the land below,

filling hollows like whipped cream spread as icing,

the gorgeous frasier fir before me

know how to live and thrive

through the biting cold of winter.

definition:

this mountain defines it.

by Henry H. Walker

November 3, ‘21

how wonderful to be!

 

as the sun sets

at sunset time

clouds rule the heavens

and increasingly swell from the valley floor,

while in-between views grab us through the clear air,

though the sun hides as do the colors it pulls from the sky,

the beauty of this sunset is spectacular

if we but have the eyes to see

each tree, each rock,

each patch of moss, of lichen,

which can center the world for us

as we acknowledge their gravity,

countless lives lived so the what is now could come to be,

the very rock we walk on, which holds us toward the sky,

has a story better than we can usually hear,

how wonderful it is for us to be, to hear.

by Henry H. Walker

November 3, ‘21

when our sun must go down

 

our sun will set

a Native American prayer I love,

and use in my meditations quite often,

faces the west, sunset,

with life parallel to a day when it’s over, 

the sunset often in a blaze of glory and color,

I love that metaphor

better than a slammed door,

a switch turned-off,

a sled gliding to a stop after the hill,

I like the idea of a play that’s run its course,

and the curtain call is celebratory,

the run was good,

and we made a difference,

we get to the mountains in early November,

the trees devastatingly beautiful

they drop the green of the living year

and reveal the yellows and reds,

the gold with them,

that celebrates the audacity and glory

that is who we are,

at least who we can be at our heart,

i love the fall that celebrates the year

and allows those trees of color

to release themselves to joy,

before it’s time to spiral to the ground

and lose individuality as all turn brown

and seek to be reunited with the Earth, now mother.

by Henry H. Walker

November 2, ‘21

still striving

 

to walk in beauty

every day we live is audacious,

entropy calls to us to let go,

the couch wants to swallow us in its lethargy,

foods murmur to us to just give in to them,

our screens are just as desired as our food

to capture our eyes, our time, our self,

tomorrow my wife and I hope to walk hard up a mountain,

even though the sunset and sunrise on top

might not get past the gray of the cloud,

even though ice might come at us,

even though snow might come at us,

rain might dampen our spirits,

as long as we are able, as long as we can,

we want to walk in beauty,

and find ourselves to be who we still are,

still striving.

by Henry H. Walker

November 2, ‘21

an overview of LeConte, up and down

 

the hike itself

our bodies and will work together

for over three hours of hard hiking

up the fourth highest mountain east of the Rockies,

the angle up, daunting,

hundreds of steps chiseled into the rock

and built with wood as if stairways,

the lower slopes strewn with golden leaves,

a goodly number of trees aflame with color along the trail,

higher up the mountain we look back and down,

and clouds fill the first third of the elevation gain,

other clouds are high enough to allow and frame vistas

that pull the eye and the soul

back into the wonder any walk in beauty should feel,

sunset is gorgeous but lacks color

as a front settles in on us,

through the night light snow falls for hours,

building up on the trees 

and on the roofs and steps of buildings around us,

yet the way back down the mountain was safe,

with no ice below our feet but for slushy snow,

fall not yet ready to give in to winter,

still winter visits in the morning

to foreshadow the coming truth,

mountain ash has readied itself, dropping its leaves,

and clustering its hope into what new years will bring,

the ash prominently display bright red berries

who stand out beautifully in the white snow,

which marries itself to the evergreens 

that continue to grow and thrive, even in the cold

when the sun’s energy is so rationed

that growth almost hibernates,

we hike down the mountain with care to our footing,

and with joy in each revelation of transformation,

the snow like magical frames

within which each view we have known before

finds itself transformed, and we feel both stranger, 

and welcomed, into this new land,

our steps down the mountain are every moment a cusp of choice,

our eyes and brains choose between multiple possibilities every step,

when memories grab my attention, I can miss what’s before, 

and misstep,

what a hard lesson walking down a mountain can teach us,

that we need to live in the moment,

while at the same time realizing

how choices now can impact how next we live,

we must do the best we can to find a good path forward

and avoid the stasis of fear as we realize

that the consequence of choice might be wrong,

we make it down the mountain,

we are tired, and fulfilled,

near the end my wife spots an unusual salamander,

we stop, marvel, photograph,

a lesson to us to allow spontaneous revelation to occur 

while we still take cautious steps in our journeys.

by Henry H. Walker

November 4, ‘21

two alums? too cool. . .

 

to see, to appreciate, to help?

somehow I am gifted

to see the fullness of self in kids,

never as clearly as it deserves to be seen,

but enough to feel a solidarity with the self

yearning to be seen, to be appreciated,

to find the help to make it through

the gauntlet of self-doubt,

through the tracklessness of the thickets

that seem to materialize from out of nowhere

from within, from family, from the culture,

even from the peers who could be friends,

I see the glass filling

and I don’t slow down the filling

by noticing and commenting on what’s missing,

a person in touch with the best of themselves

can fix what needs to be fixed

and mostly just needs the support

of another’s belief in them to believe in themselves,

I spend my day with middle school students

who think, who read, who write with impressive power,

who get better and better when the way opens,

I spend this evening with two former students

from the first decade of my teaching,

each is a wonder,

each makes a difference in their world, in the world,

each is still working as hard as they did decades ago,

challenge still materializes all about them:

the physical, with those they love,

with whatever battles they are fighting

I don’t even know about,

yet each is as wonderful now

as was the middle schooler I knew decades ago,

we all need to be loved,

and then the thickets dissipate,

the way forward can clear,

these two incredible women continue to release

the best of themselves upon the world.

by Henry H. Walker

October 25, ‘21