Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Sierra Nevadas of California

Markos writes: Sept 25 The Sugar Pine has huge pine cones. The sap feels like sugar on your hands. They are pokey and they have seeds. They are 11 - 20 inches long. Is that big or not? An oak tree has one inch acorns on it. They look like they have a hat on. White Spruce have one and one-half inch pine cones. They are very tiny. They are very easy to squish.

Sampson's journal: Sept. 24 Remote Control Airplanes at Sierra Hot Springs
Today we went to the airstrip and made pancakes. While we were making pancakes a truck drove up and two guys with remote control airplanes got out. Their names were Nick and Tom. They built a yellow airplane and a red airplane. The yellow one was a stunt plane and it did flips and glides and lots of tricks. The red one did the same but it was a little bit different. Once the yellow one did a glide land and it landed on its nose and broke the nose and propeller.

Tarn talks: Sept 24 There are lots of birthdays in this year. Remember when I swam back and forth at that other pool. I swam at Sierra Hot Springs too. I had a life jacket before and at Sierra Hot Springs I had a noodle. I was going so fast backwards. Then I swam all by myself.

Tarn turned five years old Sept. 23. For his birthday celebration we went to Sierra Hot Springs...a few days after. On his special day we made it into Quincy for a huge pancake breakfast out after tenting at the county fairgrounds with hundreds of firefighters. They had gathered from all around to fight a fire in a neighbouring area.

another Tanya poem as per Al's request...

It's Monday.
Warm Fall Breezes rock
Continuous waves to the shore.
A tree-lined edge lies below jutting rock mountain tops,
Gravel screes fill the space in between.

We're holding on to the last days of warmth at
high elevations.

Old playful logs, worn with time and waves
Bobble in the shallows.
The remnants of huge stumps act as harbors to these boats.

It's just us on this pebble beach, 'cepting a young man and his dog
Perhaps a traveler too, with the day to his choice
He too sees the sun sparkles
Hears the windy pines
Knows his own voice.

and one more...not sure how soon we'll be back on the blog

3 poles, netting
A floor and a fly.
A place of comfort
For star gazing the vast, broad sky.

Inside I have things that I need
A water bottle, a jar of bag balm
Chapstick, journal, book and sleeping sheet.
An open down sleeping bag over us two
A headlamp, a toque for over my hairdo.

When the road is desolate
The days hot and dry
Water scarce and maps untelling
of the days that before us lie...

My tent is a constant
I can handle what is before
For at night I'll rejuvinate
Upon its thin floor.

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