Sunday, March 19, 2006


Finally, finally, some decent rain down here in the desert. Cold, too: Only a high of about 48 Sunday, which for Southern Arizona is pretty nippy by any account. Snow on the mountains. Pregnant, promising clouds. The Milky Way littered beyond their dark and fleeting shapes this evening.

Today, kind of in a funk, even though I'm in first place in the Po Blog March Madness tournament set up by Steven Schroeder.

Preparing for my trip to Baja with a couple buddies. We're heading about halfway down, to Bahia Los Angeles, on Saturday. Back Thursday. We're searching for the world's tallest boojum. I'm along for the ride, camera in hand, thinking kindly of sea ray tacos, Tecate, and limes.

The day's rain, the impending journey, the usual obligations make me think of Cascadilla Falls:

Cascadilla Falls

I went down by Cascadilla
Falls this
evening, the
stream below the falls,
and picked up a handsized stone
kidney-shaped, testicular, and

thought all its motions into it,
the 800 mph earth spin,
the 190-million-mile yearly
displacement around the sun,
the overriding

of the galaxy with the 30,000
mph of where
the sun's going:
thought all the interweaving
into myself: dropped

the stone to dead rest:
the stream from other motions
rushing over it:
I turned

to the sky and stood still:
I do
not know where I am going
that I can live my life
by this single creek.

-- A.R. Ammons

Not sure they write them like that anymore....


gina said...

Now you're making nostalgic for the desert and the gorges. Stop it!


Simmons B. Buntin said...

Ah, the desert calls back its own, no?