{"id":4926,"date":"2015-02-16T14:05:50","date_gmt":"2015-02-16T20:05:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/?p=4926"},"modified":"2015-03-10T22:08:55","modified_gmt":"2015-03-11T03:08:55","slug":"otter-dreams","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/?p=4926","title":{"rendered":"Otter Dreams"},"content":{"rendered":"

Three poets, Jeff Saslow, Rich Kessler, and Christina Gregory try to find light and balance during the darkness of winter and the stress of everyday life. Join them, as they express their connection to Nature through the written word.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Unless noted, all photos by Old Naturalist<\/em><\/p>\n

River Otters
\n\"OLYMPUS<\/a>
\n<\/strong>The river otter\u2019s homes are the joy of open holes,<\/em>
\n Usually a foot in diameter,<\/em>
\nand dot snowy Minnehaha Creek<\/em>
\n On a cold, February afternoon.<\/em>
\n The dark icy water of blackness houses a secret under the white world beneath my feet.<\/em><\/p>\n

The otters enter the abyss to fish,<\/em>
\n But then use the snowy creek to slide along as a game and a ritual,<\/em>
\nMuch like us who walk, ski
\nand pull children\u2019s sleds on the surface.<\/em>
\n The dogs sniff around the half open holes,<\/em>
\n Their nose in touch with an otter or two<\/em>
\n That danced, slid and fished eight to twelve hours earlier.<\/em><\/p>\n

Now there are no otters in sight.<\/em>
\n No smells that we, of course, can decipher.<\/em>
\n But the open holes, the icy slides,<\/em>
\n The dog\u2019s attention are a testament<\/em>
\n To something much deeper and unknown on the Creek,<\/em>
\nInside our bodies and just inside the walls of our world.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/em>J. Saslow –\u00a0 Feb. 2015<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

White field<\/strong>\"OLYMPUS<\/a><\/p>\n

White blizzard<\/em>
\n Low winter angle of sunlight<\/em>
\n Brown grasses through white frosting<\/em>
\n I ski through my cake<\/em>
\n Past twilight into the night<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0Blanketed hills<\/em>
\n Tucked in dark woods<\/em>
\nI push and slide<\/em>
\n Toward marshmallow prairies<\/em>
\n My insides are sucking on sweets<\/em>
\n While my winded face meets my self again.<\/em><\/p>\n

J. Saslow<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"IMG_1207\"<\/a>Haikus – Rich Kessler<\/strong><\/p>\n


\nice cracks underfoot<\/em>
\nalone\u00a0\u00a0 silence broken<\/em>
\nby my racing heart\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

bare cold icy branch\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>
\n closed buds huddle together<\/em>
\n long for spring’s warm sun<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0\"fullMoonRich\"<\/a>I profess my love<\/em>
\nmidnight \u00a0\u00a0 new year’s eve<\/em>
\nfull moon steals the show<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"OLYMPUS<\/a>I live between two skis.<\/em>
\n Across a snow white sheet.<\/em>
\n On a sky-blue-pink March day.<\/em>
\n The wind blows a mystery.<\/em><\/p>\n

I fall asleep between seconds.<\/em>
\n My body shudders<\/em>
\n I\u2019m on the upward side of time<\/em>
\n I awake<\/em>
\n Sliding on a frozen, glass creek<\/em>
\n My heart is all that is warm.<\/em><\/p>\n

J. Saslow\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 March \u201809<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"snowcrystal\"<\/a>

www.its.caltech.edu<\/p><\/div>\n

Spontaneous Combustion<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the mist of mystery<\/em>
\n In the spheres of frozen longing<\/em>
\n You are born<\/em>
\n Quickened by the rise and fall of wind<\/em>
\n The mystical design of old.<\/em><\/p>\n

Pure vapor is the womb<\/em>
\n Tossed about the riding tide of streaming air<\/em>
\n Agitated, perplexed, driven to create and birth your wonder for our viewing.<\/em><\/p>\n

You trick us into thinking you are unique<\/em>
\n Yet you follow the manual; dotting the I\u2019s and crossing the T\u2019s<\/em>
\n Always 6 branches<\/em>
\n Always measured<\/em>
\n Always following your crystal destiny.<\/em><\/p>\n

Condensing cold upon the nascent flake<\/em>
\n You grow tihe frenetic energy into branches, fern like and precious.<\/em>
\n Colonized symmetrically<\/em>
\n Randomized mathematically<\/em>
\n Stretched beyond the imagination<\/em><\/p>\n

And in the chemical bond you join to others like yourself<\/em>
\n Lining up, marching as it were, into the form within your knowing<\/em>
\n And deep within you assemble<\/em>
\n Spontaneously<\/em>
\n Organically<\/em>
\n Magically,,,<\/em><\/p>\n

Fresh baby snow<\/em><\/p>\n

Christina Gregory, January 2015<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"River<\/a>

River Otter Tracks<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Three poets, Jeff Saslow, Rich Kessler, and Christina Gregory try to find light and balance during the darkness of winter and the stress of everyday life. Join them, as they express their connection to Nature through the written word. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4926","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nature-poetry","category-winter"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4926","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4926"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4926\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4949,"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4926\/revisions\/4949"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4926"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4926"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/oldnaturalist.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4926"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}