Tuesday, September 15, 2009

More from the canyon

To give the mind a rest, I traveled, courtesy of the Elder Brother-Unit, TW, whose photography and lovely, adventurous, and framing mind is responsible for American Idyll.

you have
noticed that
even in the
slightest breeze
you can hear
the voice
of the
cottonwood tree.
This we
is its prayer
to the
Great Spirit,
for not
only men,
but all things
and all beings
pray to Him
in different ways.
--Black Elk

Je trouve très raisonnable la croyance celtique que les âmes de ceux que nous avons perdus sont captives dans quelque être inférieur, dans une bête, un végétal, une chose inanimée, perdues en effet pour nous jusqu'au jour, qui pour beaucoup ne vient jamais, où nous nous trouvons passer près de l'arbre, entrer en possession de l'objet qui est leur prison. Alors elles tressaillent, nous appellent, et sitôt que nous les avons reconnues, l'enchantement est brisé. Delivrées par nous, elles ont vaincu la mort et reviennent vivre avec nous.
--Du Côté de Chez Swann, Marcel Proust

[With apologies to TW for "piling on" an additional commentary -- but -- and I swear this is the truth -- I was clearing my accumulated drafts and had copied the passage above -- the hopeful genesis for something I now cannot remember. Did I tell you Fred is a druid? One thing is sure: I. need. to. pay. attention. The cottonwood is so beautiful. Here, the dogwoods are starting to turn. Night time coolness has kissed their leaves with faded purples.]

Cottonwood Canyon (left top)
Haunted Canyon (right top)
Hance Canyon (below)

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