The Merced River ©Sascha Darlington
For Haibun Monday at dVerse. To join in, visit here.
Heat rises from Fresno’s flat roads in steamy waves. After the chill of San Francisco, heat embraces, welcome. I watch the vista unfold as the car begins the arduous climb. From groves where orange baubles fall, to pine laden hillsides where the temperature descends, as the road curves toward Yosemite. The blue sky, the billowing clouds give way to fir tips. The scent of cedar, moist grass and earth blend to create a heady incense. Bright blue jays embody their name–Stellar. They hop and call, the sequence a minuet of merriment, while their crests ruffle in the skirting breeze.
Into the primeval forest I walk, my footsteps quieted by many layers of evergreen needles. Incense cedars and sequoias create a canopy through which little light filters, enough to imply daylight, enough to imagine native footsteps preceding me through time.
passage of light
upon bare sequoia roots
June daisy blossoms