Mountain Stories

The wind blew towards her, bringing the smell of forest along with a couple of pale, yellow leaves that landed behind her. Along with the coloured trees in the forest, the air had become somewhat sharper the last week – gone was the chocking heatwave of the late summer, and soon enough the mountain peaks would get the season’s first layer of snow. A smile formed on her lips as she brushed an auburn lock of hair behind her...

Snowflakes melt on my face as I numbly trudge through the ever-deeper cover of cotton-like snow. I give a silent prayer to the Gods for the cold. Else I would never have gotten this far. I reach a patch of windswept land and up my pace. A backward glance tells me my pursuers are lagging behind. This is my territory. My terrain. I know how to make friends with the spirits of ice and rock. Not far now. The glacier sits just...

 There's passion in the notion,and the potion known as you,in the emotion and the ocean,flowing in your eyes of blue. It's in the poetry you bring me,with a gesture, look, and kiss,in a gentle touch that says so much,wrought in euphoric bliss. It is passion and it's rapture,how your captured my old soul,and made it feel brand new again,virginal, pure, and whole - as pure as December snow,up on a mountain top,or by a brook...

LaSal Utah is but a small backwoods town twenty miles east of Moab. Ranching and timber were big here in the seventies. Now a few ranchers hang on and the sawmill is closed and burned. It’s a world apart from the red rock country of Moab. I’m here chasing bears. They're numerous in the spring; coming out in May to feast on early green grass and recover from their long sleep. Utah allows a “chase only” season for hounds me...