Song of the Nature Wander Lust
By Dave Hanks
Once there lived a man and woman -
Lived upon a sagebrush desert -
A desert now plowed into farmland -
Lived a half mile from a river -
A mighty force across that desert -
Giving water to land and wildlife.
The land was peopled, with old and young ones-
All putting demands upon that river.
Some wanted economy, but others wildlife -
Wanted nature pure and simple -
Wanted the creatures to continue always.
But the entrepreneurs, outnumbered the others-
Raised their voices in government chambers -
And the wild things were diminished -
Crowded into obscure places.
But that man and woman loved them -
Sought them out in every corner -
Searched at every free-time moment -
Watched for them at every instance.
Pursued with notebook and with "glasses" -
Pursued with tripod and with camera -
Pursued to satisfy with wanderings -
A lust that's fed by inner feelings -
A longing, ever wanting -
To taste just one more special moment -
Of those inner feelings sated -
Stimulated by, a wanderlust.
Searching went they ever onward -
Onward in their truck and camper -
Onward on the diverse byways -
Graveled road or well paved highways.
Followed the mighty river backward -
To the headwaters of it's origins.
Sought them in the hills or lowlands -
Sought them in the marsh or brushland -
Sought them in every habitat available -
Whether close, or far off.
Sought the terrible, Ursus arctos -
Looking for that one respected -
One that's now so scarce and numbered -
In remote, secluded pockets.
Sought the canine in every instance -
Varied carnivore of coats and colors.
Searched for Lupis, Latranus, Fulva -
Looked for those hunters, so beleaguered.
Always searching, always hunting -
From the sunrise in the morning -
To the setting sun in evening.
Alert to birdsong in the meadow -
Of the Rail, the Blackbird, Heron;
Of the Quail, the Grouse, or Pheasant.
Hunted o'er the willowed bottoms -
Hoping to surprise the big one -
One with antlers wide and palmate -
Stepping through the squishy bogland -
Always King and never challenged.
Climbed upon the rising mountains -
Hillsides covered with Pine and Aspen -
Trees for Woodpecker and for Tree Squirrel.
Sat upon the rocks at topside -
Tasted the wind and smelled the flowers -
Watched the Ground Squirrel in his routine -
Gathering in the buds and blossoms.
Pondered there the ways of nature -
As they watched the scurrying Pika -
Cheeks so full of summer foliage -
Stuffing grass in, depressions rocky -
Making little haystacks in them -
Food to survive the coming winter.
But it was the majestic Bighorn -
That made them climb up to the summit.
Panting hard as they struggled upward -
Hurrying along in anticipation -
To see that ungulate of oft told legend.
Looked at horns so curled and massive -
Quickening the heart and the emotions -
Emotions already stirred by others -
Creatures observed along the pathway.
Hawk and Falcon ride the updrafts -
Porcupine and Nutcracker invade the Pine trees -
Chickadee and Towhee scour the bushes -
Scratch the leaf litter for errant insects.
Across the canyon, they saw a whiteness -
White ghosts along the cliffsides -
Agile ones who traverse the rockslides -
Adding completeness to that setting.
Along the streams so crisp and winding -
The lifeblood from the forest proper -
Lifeblood for the large or small there.
Lifeblood for the chunky Beaver -
Furry one with tail so flat -
Engineer and molder of the riparian sector.
His pools find use by Duck and Goose -
To wile away the many hours -
So wary in their rest and feedings -
Always alert to the presence -
Of the man and woman, in their searchings.
In the forest dark and mystic -
Stepping along the shaded pathways -
Listened to the many voices -
Voices projected through tree and shrubbery.
Heard the Sparrow in melodious concert -
Heard the trill of the Dark-Eyed Junco -
Heard the whistling of the Titmouse.
Saw Black Bear scat, fresh and steaming -
It's mist rising in the early morning -
Giving evidence of a beast around them -
One so wary of being discovered.
But every now and then, the pathway -
Opened into forest clearingss.
Opened up to sudden vistas -
Of other animals not so wary.
Saw the Grosbeaks of brilliant colors -
The soft red and silver of the Pine one -
Saw the Black-Headed, and the Evening -
One of orange and black/white 'mingled -
The other's burn't yellow, just as compelling.
Saw the Elk and the burly Bison -
Large ones intent about their feeding.
Ones that add tranquility to the vision -
Vision of the surrounding landscapes -
Perfect beauty by the Creator:
God our Father, kind and giving -
Of those great treasures to his children.
Not to forget, drylands and deserts -
Incomplete would be their travels -
Without searching those familiar landforms -
Juniper tree and Tall Sage kingdoms.
Mule Deer and Pronghorn did abide there -
Running between each bush and flower -
Scattered o'er the arid country.
Ran between the mounds of Badgers -
A fierce mustelid - The master digger -
Natural selector of those rodents -
That abound so freely, in great number.
Many birds added song and color -
To complete the mystique of that picture.
What was the purpose of those wanderings?
Wanderings made in all conditions:
Whether blizzard or the heat of summer -
Or fled the tornado of the heartlands -
And braved the rainstorms in every sector.
Man and woman searched the continent -
Searched the states, of the Eagle -
Searched the vast land, of the Maple.
Always searching to build those memoirs -
That would last their lifetime over -
And to satisfy that hunger -
For nature, and to always wander.
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