“I know that our bodies where created to thrive only in pure air, and the scenes in which pure air is found. There is not a fragment in all nature, for every relative fragment of one thing is a full harmonious unit in itself.”
John Muir. From: ‘A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf’. 1916
PART 1 – COASTAL PROMONTORY
.
Twilight lastly wanes.
Darkness, like a window
Shade, slowly descends
upon the surroundings…
.
Within moments a pall
of mist has coalesced; a
moist residue feathering
‘round about…
.
Almost imperceptibly;
the sounds of Gulls and
Sandpipers drift into the distance…
.
Mingled with a shifting of
ocean breezes, goosebumps move
like tiny wheels, in waves of trembling,
up and down the spine…
.
Squinting eyes observe
a diaphanous mist forming halos
‘round the shifting coruscation of
distant streetlights…
.
Steady, in the northernmost parts,
the moon rises from behind a transom
of steep ridges onto a glistening inlet…
.
With slivers of serpentine
Incandescence; moonlight hastens
upon the footpath in a wash of
pallid vividness…
.
We watch, in cooling night air,
as the lesser light frolics on the
Ocean’s surface in ashen flames…
.
From the imbiber’s pantheon,
across the boulevard, laughter’s cacophony
echoes fitfully across sand and water…
.
Slowly, the nomadic path of
nighttime envelopes both of us in a
cloak of darkened cerulean hues…
.
PART 2 – LAGUNA MEADOWS
.
Setting sun extends
fingers across the vast meadows…
.
Broadening shadows blanket
drought-parched grasses
in a dimming shroud…
.
Balanced in thirds
and sevenths, twilight’s
Heart tones sketch the day’s
memories in pallid brushstrokes…
.
Scrub-jay, Quail, Raven, Sparrow, Chickadee,
and Mud-hen sing exuberantly, across the lake,
in a chorus of salient transition…
.
These nocturnal cantatas
wrap the soul in a chorus of
elevated harmony…
.
Remembering sunlight’s warmth;
soaring affections succumb to
the panoptic chill of eventide…
.
With the threshold crossed,
two spirits spread their wings
and take flight into the radiance
of an unsullied moon…
.
PART 3 – ACTIVITY ABOARD THE BARQUE - SUNSET
.
Across far-flung horizons -
below the suns apex - hues
of late afternoon commingle with
the easily swayed aspects of moments…
.
Burdened from rising pressures,
surface water furrows like wrinkled
old fruit, as storm-clouds form west
along the Northern Shorelines…
.
Aboard the wooden Barque:
passenger’s rollick on the leeward deck
where beamish stewards serve snacks, and
budding libertines eyeball possibilities…
.
The measured clicking of heels echo
near the fo’c’sle where eager faces float socially;
and where, in shifting breezes, the long flaxen
hair of youth hover’s naturally…
.
A resonance of laughter widens
‘round long-stemmed flutes; amber
liquid splashing drops along rounded
glass edges smudged with lipstick and spit…
.
The eyes and ears draw all these
darting fragments (of sight and sound)
into the mind, so the adventurous soul can
paint with words in subtle or bold images…
.
Time takes us there,
where light and dark commingle,
where hope and fact ignite the flames
of understanding, and where each
breath is present and past…
.
Continually morphing, in light and shadow,
the line of night traverses the rounded surface.
Slowly, in fluid motion, the once resplendent sun
gradually dips down into another time of respite…
© richard lloyd cederberg
2016
richardlloydcederberg.com
But I don't see us "devolving" as much as you might think. In John Muir's day, wealthy interests from the East were arriving in California to plunder its riches and would have cut every redwood tree in the state as well as turn Yosemite into a commercial tourist attraction had he and others not intervened. Every photo that I've seen of that era has the air filled with smoke from coal burning or wood-burning stoves, steamships, trains and factories. I think you would have been appalled, like like John Muir, had you lived at that time. Now we have new "pure air" challenges to face.
Ron