cloudsandtrails

[cloudsandtrails]

This is a short song I wrote about a fence post, I call "the anchor" about discovering the infinite variation within sameness through photography, seasons, and piano.

Buried deep in the waves of grass

A weathered post where the decades pass

Barbwire rusts like a weathered line of song

Yet, holds the field, where it belongs

Snow or bloom it does not bend

Keeps watch where the prairie ends

I have framed it in autumn burning with gold

And in spring time when the green takes hold

It never moves yet it never the same

Each glance carves it a brand new name

The light the sky the silence near

All shift but the anchor stays clear

Change can live where nothing moves

My mirror stands in the open bloom

Change can live where nothing blooms

[cloudsandtrails]

Buttonbush

[cloudsandtrails]

Ripples on the surface I’m lost in the flow

Fireflies in the evening, putting on a show

Every day and every night, I am the king of Cedar Beach

Just living that life man, nothing is what it seems

Every day and every night, I’m just living that life

Every day and every night, if I could, I would ride the trails all the time

Every day and every night, I’m living it up slow

Driftwood dreams in the flow, so with the current I go

Every day and every night I’m hitting that

Every day and every night, I’m leaving it sound

In the silence of the water, I am a thundercloud

Every day and every night I am floating in the tide

With sunset in my eyes and the river as my guide

Watercolor in the skies, I am painting what’s on my mind

Hitting that, living my life and the dream I had as a child

Every day and every night, I’m standing, barefoot in the breeze

Watching dragonflies circled daisies, I’m one with the trees

Every day and every night, I am a high cloud in the blue

Every day and every night, I’m a river running through you

TikTok, I am the clock, but I’m not in a rush

Every day and every night, I am the hush in the hush

Every ripple is a song, every wave is a refrain

On the spark in the calm, you can call me by my name

[cloudsandtrails]

If silence is your weapon of choice,

Know this: I’ll honor your voice.

No access, no bridge, no plea,

Until apology stands face to me.

This isn’t a threat; it’s a vow,

Boundaries set, here and now.

Silent wars may suit your play,

But in my world, they don’t stay.

[cloudsandtrails]

Ruins of January - 01/06/2024

White flakes of snow fell soft and brief in January’s arctic wake.

The white snow barely blanketed the scars we have inadvertently made.

Forests leveled to dirt to cheaply build expensive plywood homes, while

leaving all of the wildlife exiled with nowhere to call home or roam.

A wild coyote prowls where many trees once stood. It is searching for scraps and is often misunderstood.

You cuss the coyote’s hunger and its desperate fight and thrive for life, but you completely tore its world upside down and sideways last night,

and that is not right.

Corporate boxes rise like those monoliths, pale and silver gray,

Like a rusty old reel casting so many small dreams further away.

The soul of a small town, its shops, and its art are all crushed beneath greedy shareholder’s cold and ruthless hearts.

They say one by one, we can make a big change, but corporate giants will always pollute, offset, and lobby the exchange.

Their dollar signs gleam in their eyes with their conscience dead.

They exploit all of the people and the earth and then leave all of it bled.

I’m pissed, are you? Can you not see, the cost of this endless blood thirsty consuming economy?

The countrysides burn under greedy corporate flames and we are left to shoulder and stomach the shame.

Look past these fake fences and all of these imaginary planted walls.

Look past the choreographed sprawl and hear the coyote’s cry warning us all.

January’s frigid frost won’t cover the cost of the wildlife and towns we have so carelessly lost.

[cloudsandtrails]

Making crow friends in the city.

[cloudsandtrails]

[cloudsandtrails]

That “feral kid” lifestyle, exploring untamed woods, cruising on bikes and three-wheelers, and disappearing for the day. This is such a vivid slice of 80s rural childhood. No phones, no supervision, just adventure. I I discovered all kinds of hidden trails, built forts, and had my share of close calls too.

[cloudsandtrails]

#brat

[cloudsandtrails]

The Sentinel

The locals called it Fire Bend 🌲🔥, a hidden clearing deep in the Cedar Forest. There once even lived a wicked witch named Esmeralda 🧙‍♀️. She was always casting dark spells, scaring everyone, making the woods dark, dangerous, and creepy 🕯️🌌, especially the children she sometimes feasted upon! That’s an entirely different story… 👻

Well, one October, after a terrible ice storm came, a gigantic wildfire swirled through the cedar trees. Smoldering ash was the only thing left at Fire Bend! 🌫️💀

Thankfully, soon after the fires, rains came and the flames ended. Only one thing now stood tall. The natives called it “The Sentinel” 🌲⚫, the petrified, charred, and onyx-colored remnant of a once sturdy cedar.

Since the wildfires and arrival of The Sentinel, Esmeralda has not been seen, but Big Nick and Downhill Bill did say they saw her fly mid-afternoon over the windmill, then north over the swimmin’ hole, trying to return last Thursday, but The Sentinel would not let her in! 🌬️ He banished her to the Spook House 👻, claiming the woods, river, and trails. He even took possession of all her power by collecting her wicked dark magic wands made from stones and carefully selected branches from the cedars and cottonwood trees. Legend has it that if you break some of her wands in half, there’s a star in the middle ⭐!

Fire Bend and the trails are safe once again for endless sunsets 🌅, stretching into the end of the world. The Sentinel is always watching now 👁️, forever protecting the blackened, crispy land. Come May of next year, the grass will be the greenest you’ll ever see 🌱💚. Even the cacti and some trees will be brought back to life. The Sentinel will use its new-found powers from Esmeralda’s wands to heal the forest tenfold by spring! Mark my words!

And although The Sentinel should not be feared in general, expect great wrath and agony if you disrespect its environment in any way. A cursed life one would lead! ⚠️

[cloudsandtrails]

Houdini trail rides

The scent of fall in the air—

Wild white buckwheat blooms

[cloudsandtrails]



5PM Sunday,

Reality setting in—

Mondays are gloomy.

[cloudsandtrails]

Being here is hard.

Why is it hard being here?

Over thinking things.

[cloudsandtrails]

Sunsets are magic,

Sunsets are my favorite—

Sunset therapy.

[cloudsandtrails]

Sunflower sunset,

From the sandy riverbanks—

I’ll never forget.

[cloudsandtrails]

I drove all damn night,

Do I go straight, left, or right?

It does not matter.

[cloudsandtrails]

My mind is on you,

Dear, please say yes to heaven—

Please say yes to me.