Enga mellom fjella

Holding hands

Holding hands

We two Guardians of Hell's Gate, barely held our heads above the seize of ice, as glacial waters lapped our flanks, leaving bench marks stretched towards horizons' end. We gave a refuge for what little life could fend between our rocks. We were old before our world turned white, when cold descended. We rest older now beneath its warmth. We stand, two ancient arks, an arrow of flowing water stuck between us as if to keep us-two apart. Oh ... if we could but embrace, you'd know the truth of our long forgotten names! Our quaking voices and our passions would rise once more in steam and floods; our arms would reach to fill an empty sky. Until that moment, fingers seek to touch each other far below this valley floor.

cold stone
holding hands
rekindling

© 2009 Kåre Enga [165.445.GZ] 2009-02-13

For local folks there is a literal meaning based on the geography and geology of this valley.

blah blah blah:

I went to bed early; I got up reasonable early. It is cold but bright.

Dreams were odd. What does 'to aster' mean? Why was I taking music, theatre and third semester Italian (courses I never took in school or uni)? And where in the world was I?

Except for a walk to the store I did not go out on Singles' Awareness Day (as Dawn put it). I'm still coughing and a bit achy and stuffed up. I am brewing hazelnut coffee I can't smell ... yet. The coffee pot I found works quite well, thank-you.

On the walk yesterday: the chirps and flits of chickadees.

MUSAK:

I leave you with a song of the high plains' summer, "Cool Water" by Sons of the Pioneers: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWJPnhScrwI

Montana: 18º at 8:00

12,000