Reality Unreal

Written
1994

 Southern sun on Northern lands,

       fall gold on deeper greens.

Valley sky clear, rain-washed blue,

       a spot of calm surrounded

       by demanding storm clouds.

White pillars reach to heaven in the West,

       while ominous black covers

       the mountains in the East.

Drive toward that source and

       each cloud bank is

      a dramatic announcer of

      a mountain storm.

No lightening flashes

       or thundering threats

       from a hard working snow dropper,

      a George Stewart hero

      in annual appearance.

Higher and higher,

       darker and darker.

Truck-dropped chunks of dirty snow

      litter the West-bound lane.

Trouble is just ahead,

      but the sun is warm through the

      car window.

The heater purrs and still no storm

      for me yet. 

Grass Valley streets bend with glee

       to tell tales of gold and Lola Montez.

Walk the streets and fell the bluster

      of the wind.

The valley sun is gone and Sierra

       bleak, black covers the air with

       threatening expectancy.

From the delights of the antique store

       walk out into sleet, hail

       and three O'Clock darkness.

Time for a Valley kid to head home.    

Introduce the car to snow,

      reassure it

      and head South and West.

Defrosters, wipers and heater working

       soft, warm jazz playing

       so nothing to fear.

Watch the slick road and head home.

Leave the storm for those who know it.

But then the theater of the absurd.

Nature gone surrealistic,

      a definitional privilege not easily gained.

In the West the sun shines,

         the black storm

       in the mountains becomes

       a backdrop for the light show.

Moving towers of white, full of holes,

      cross the stage and provide golds

      and reds

      and silvers and beauty for which

      there are neither poets nor painters.

Change and change again,

       spectacular as if the viewer

       has no attentions span.

Then the Daliesque finale as

       the gold, brown and yellow of fall

      kissed valley oaks is patched here and

      there by a sun of the same hues.

A pastoral parchment painting

         spotlighted by tourchlight.

A weathering ranch house becomes a screen

       for the color show, windows announcing

      reflected warmth.

Over all too soon and then the freeway is covered

       by mountain traffic droppings of the brown dirt

       of a world washed by

        a Thanksgiving snow.

A short whisper of clestial beauty

       to be chersihed as long as

       there is memory and perhaps beyond.


 

Notes
This was a trip to Grass Valley where the food is greta the picnic area is beautiful and the community fun. Wine tasting antique and thrift stores are available and the best nursery is right out side of town. Often a day trip. This day was Sierra winter and Valley fall. It was a cloud and sun show of major proportions. Never to be forgotten. The poem needs to be shortened and be less dramatic. I shall do so one day.