Hiking in the Alps
Pounding,
Pounding,
Pounding.
Hiking boots in rhythmic steps,
Like soldiers in formation
Hut, two, three, four,
Hut, two, three, four.
Falderee, Faldera, a knapsack on my (Mark’s) back.
I hear the noise of my boots,
A Cat clearing a path
Birds singing
The whirr of bicycle wheels
As bikers pass.
Nordic walkers’ poles
Clicking stones on the pathway up the mountain,
Cowbells on field cows
Chairlift overhead
The train whistle as it carries folks up to the Zugspitze.
I see massive mountains
Deep green with pines and spruces
(I thought they were firs
—you would think I would know by now.)
Craggy rocks reaching skyward
(Where are the rock climbers?)
Paragliders’ multicolored sails in the air.
I touch the backpack to reach for my lunch,
To retrieve my bottle of water.
Mark is so gracious to carry it
So that my burden is lightened.
I taste water which quenches my thirst,
Unpack the lunch we prepared at breakfast,
Oatmeal rolls with sliced salami,
Turkey, cucumbers, cheese spread.
Strawberries and nectarines
From the Friday market.
I eat this manna from heaven to satisfy the hunger I have worked up.
Rejuvenated by the calories,
I begin the
Pounding,
Pounding,
Pounding again.
Today, June 24, 2006, I did not hike. The sore muscles could, I fear, take no more pounding.
Pounding,
Pounding.
Hiking boots in rhythmic steps,
Like soldiers in formation
Hut, two, three, four,
Hut, two, three, four.
Falderee, Faldera, a knapsack on my (Mark’s) back.
I hear the noise of my boots,
A Cat clearing a path
Birds singing
The whirr of bicycle wheels
As bikers pass.
Nordic walkers’ poles
Clicking stones on the pathway up the mountain,
Cowbells on field cows
Chairlift overhead
The train whistle as it carries folks up to the Zugspitze.
I see massive mountains
Deep green with pines and spruces
(I thought they were firs
—you would think I would know by now.)
Craggy rocks reaching skyward
(Where are the rock climbers?)
Paragliders’ multicolored sails in the air.
I touch the backpack to reach for my lunch,
To retrieve my bottle of water.
Mark is so gracious to carry it
So that my burden is lightened.
I taste water which quenches my thirst,
Unpack the lunch we prepared at breakfast,
Oatmeal rolls with sliced salami,
Turkey, cucumbers, cheese spread.
Strawberries and nectarines
From the Friday market.
I eat this manna from heaven to satisfy the hunger I have worked up.
Rejuvenated by the calories,
I begin the
Pounding,
Pounding,
Pounding again.
Today, June 24, 2006, I did not hike. The sore muscles could, I fear, take no more pounding.
posted by Kathy Sohn | 12:11 PM
2 Comments:
Sorry, but I don't like the military analogy in this poem. However, I like the poem. Good way to share some of our travels. and you catch more than the rhythm.
To me the hiking in Garmish is more like a leaf on a slow moving creek or maybe a cloud moving gracefully in the sky. For me, the hiking is a spontanous, unplanned, beautiful activity. This is not like an Army march I did as a new recruit back in 1968.
Sure we go out with a plan, but usually no destination and no boss, just a time limit so we don't do too much. And the paths, despite our our use of maps, seem to move in their own direction, like a leaf on a creek, we follow. Up and down and stopping in eddies--no, benches.
Thanks, Kathy, for this wonderful blog and great poem. Mark
Nice poem - thanks for sharing
http://ramblingwalking.blogspot.com
Post a Comment
<< Home