UP NORTH TRILOGY
AMISH COUNTRY
The country road heading west
transported us through horse and buggy days,
the chance to see
the work it takes to make it work,
the days to raise the oats and harvest the hay,
feed for the animals that move their lives.
Farmers with four-horse teams
pulled hybrid mowing machines
their cutters running on gasoline.
Women at the grocery store
purveyed home canned goods
and bulk foods,
bagged in the room next door.
“Ask Us About Our Bear Bait,” they advertise.
They offered staples,
Ivory, Lava and Fels Naptha,
plain products for plain people.
Starbucks Coffee over two aisles.
Young children, in a woman’s care,
five in a one horse two-wheeled buggy ride.
Bicycling,
a sixth, trailed, pushing hard,
bobbing side to side
his wide brimmed hat securely tied.
At the furniture and dry-goods store
a young girl tending the till
penned a letter longhand.
No help from Twitter or Email.
Just Uncle Sam’s snail.
A mile away
no one tended the bakery.
Honor system. Pay
and obey.
“Shirts Required, No Swimwear.”
Hannah, lukewarm shopper,
was content to confront
the rabbit hutch out front.
How fortunate we were to need that road,
to receive our neighbors’ waves and smiling stares
as we negotiated our vehicle around theirs,
sharing a road,
clip clopped and horse plopped.
On our last Wednesday an evening service
drew dozens to the road
on foot, bicycles, carriages.
Women, west bound in black dresses and white hats
chatted as they bounced along.
A young man, east bound, running to catch up,
slicked down his hair.
All gathering
from the many events
in their labor intensive lives.
MEADOW VIEW FARM
Down the hill
and across the meadow, pink
blooming milkweed and wild asters surround
a pastel blue-green pond
neatly trimmed rim-round,
with a mowed space
and sitting benches neatly placed.
A miniature house, the focal point,
held fishing gear,
chairs and jars of food
to feed the bass, catfish and sunfish
waiting to surface.
Up the hill more paths, mowed,
tempted hikers and bikers to explore.
The tops of the trees caught the evening’s sunset rays
creating the slow rise of a northern Michigan Alpen-glow.
In the yard, along the roads,
Rabbits, groundhogs and deer,
one with a fawn.
A porcupine.
Something that looked like a fox.
The neighbor’s dog?
No black bear
although Curran, The Black Bear Capital,
is a short drive east from here.
A wild turkey family, blended, all sizes, strolled
left to right, through the rail fence,
then disappeared over the hill.
They would reprise their show at the pond.
Nearby Fairview, you may recall,
the Wild Turkey Capital.
Around the farmhouse
Bird feeders, busy
despite our noisy comings and goings
fishing, biking, kayaking, and campfire building.
Environmental footprints, indeed.
Alyssa’s gift, unique it seemed:
entrances without disturbance.
A purple finch or pine grosbeak?
The hairy woodpeckers, no mystery,
persistent, noisy.
Red breasted nuthatches
showed us where they summer.
Hummers, feisty, dive bombed each other
for some nectar.
Two pileated woodpeckers
flashed their red cockades.
RIVER DRIFTING
The river, Au Sable
The trip, memorable
Three generations adrift in
Pure Michigan.
Aaron's drift boat with Meme and Papa
Alyssa and Hannah in kayaks rounding river bends
Over stones, dark pools, eddies, logs and sand.
Majestic white pines
Frame blue skies, a stray cloud
And provide a focus
On two lodgers, eagles.
One taking its leave to soar --
My thought, not to ignore
But to eye us observers.
The other, perched, shifted
As we drifted under
Eagle's wings up close
Powerful
Wonder
Aaron, intent on conveying
The joys and techniques
Of fishing with flies,
Gave us a chance to try.
navigating back roads
de-trailering the boat
and into the water,
equipping,
rowing, teaching, demonstrating
First netting, Meme
First landing, Papa
In awe of the beauty and coloring
Of the brooks and browns briefly held
The joys came easily
The techniques, less so.
Years of casting and cranking --
In Papa's way
Alyssa, a teen, less burdened,
Had the tight loops and roll casts
Down pat.
Excitement level enhanced
By preparations for the annual
100 mile Au Sable River canoe festival,
A dusk to dawn marathon
From Grayling with start -- a la Lemans,
Downstream to Oscoda on Lake Huron.
River crossings getting port-a-johns
Fans renting cottages to root on
Their teams
Racing a river in the dark?
To me, insane-a-thon!
And for the record,
A taste of “Not So Pure Michigan”
Riverside, a bra tree requested donations.
And, oh children,
Sorry if you saw
Too much of that woman?
DRK
8/17/11
7/15/16
AMISH COUNTRY
The country road heading west
transported us through horse and buggy days,
the chance to see
the work it takes to make it work,
the days to raise the oats and harvest the hay,
feed for the animals that move their lives.
Farmers with four-horse teams
pulled hybrid mowing machines
their cutters running on gasoline.
Women at the grocery store
purveyed home canned goods
and bulk foods,
bagged in the room next door.
“Ask Us About Our Bear Bait,” they advertise.
They offered staples,
Ivory, Lava and Fels Naptha,
plain products for plain people.
Starbucks Coffee over two aisles.
Young children, in a woman’s care,
five in a one horse two-wheeled buggy ride.
Bicycling,
a sixth, trailed, pushing hard,
bobbing side to side
his wide brimmed hat securely tied.
At the furniture and dry-goods store
a young girl tending the till
penned a letter longhand.
No help from Twitter or Email.
Just Uncle Sam’s snail.
A mile away
no one tended the bakery.
Honor system. Pay
and obey.
“Shirts Required, No Swimwear.”
Hannah, lukewarm shopper,
was content to confront
the rabbit hutch out front.
How fortunate we were to need that road,
to receive our neighbors’ waves and smiling stares
as we negotiated our vehicle around theirs,
sharing a road,
clip clopped and horse plopped.
On our last Wednesday an evening service
drew dozens to the road
on foot, bicycles, carriages.
Women, west bound in black dresses and white hats
chatted as they bounced along.
A young man, east bound, running to catch up,
slicked down his hair.
All gathering
from the many events
in their labor intensive lives.
MEADOW VIEW FARM
Down the hill
and across the meadow, pink
blooming milkweed and wild asters surround
a pastel blue-green pond
neatly trimmed rim-round,
with a mowed space
and sitting benches neatly placed.
A miniature house, the focal point,
held fishing gear,
chairs and jars of food
to feed the bass, catfish and sunfish
waiting to surface.
Up the hill more paths, mowed,
tempted hikers and bikers to explore.
The tops of the trees caught the evening’s sunset rays
creating the slow rise of a northern Michigan Alpen-glow.
In the yard, along the roads,
Rabbits, groundhogs and deer,
one with a fawn.
A porcupine.
Something that looked like a fox.
The neighbor’s dog?
No black bear
although Curran, The Black Bear Capital,
is a short drive east from here.
A wild turkey family, blended, all sizes, strolled
left to right, through the rail fence,
then disappeared over the hill.
They would reprise their show at the pond.
Nearby Fairview, you may recall,
the Wild Turkey Capital.
Around the farmhouse
Bird feeders, busy
despite our noisy comings and goings
fishing, biking, kayaking, and campfire building.
Environmental footprints, indeed.
Alyssa’s gift, unique it seemed:
entrances without disturbance.
A purple finch or pine grosbeak?
The hairy woodpeckers, no mystery,
persistent, noisy.
Red breasted nuthatches
showed us where they summer.
Hummers, feisty, dive bombed each other
for some nectar.
Two pileated woodpeckers
flashed their red cockades.
RIVER DRIFTING
The river, Au Sable
The trip, memorable
Three generations adrift in
Pure Michigan.
Aaron's drift boat with Meme and Papa
Alyssa and Hannah in kayaks rounding river bends
Over stones, dark pools, eddies, logs and sand.
Majestic white pines
Frame blue skies, a stray cloud
And provide a focus
On two lodgers, eagles.
One taking its leave to soar --
My thought, not to ignore
But to eye us observers.
The other, perched, shifted
As we drifted under
Eagle's wings up close
Powerful
Wonder
Aaron, intent on conveying
The joys and techniques
Of fishing with flies,
Gave us a chance to try.
navigating back roads
de-trailering the boat
and into the water,
equipping,
rowing, teaching, demonstrating
First netting, Meme
First landing, Papa
In awe of the beauty and coloring
Of the brooks and browns briefly held
The joys came easily
The techniques, less so.
Years of casting and cranking --
In Papa's way
Alyssa, a teen, less burdened,
Had the tight loops and roll casts
Down pat.
Excitement level enhanced
By preparations for the annual
100 mile Au Sable River canoe festival,
A dusk to dawn marathon
From Grayling with start -- a la Lemans,
Downstream to Oscoda on Lake Huron.
River crossings getting port-a-johns
Fans renting cottages to root on
Their teams
Racing a river in the dark?
To me, insane-a-thon!
And for the record,
A taste of “Not So Pure Michigan”
Riverside, a bra tree requested donations.
And, oh children,
Sorry if you saw
Too much of that woman?
DRK
8/17/11
7/15/16
