Blackflies swarmed about my head,
deerflies attacked my gait,
and somewhere in the tallgrass
ticks lied about in wait.
Fauna and fern crowded in,
pushing ivy about the path,
and when a bundle brushed my leg,
I feared it might bring nature’s wrath.
It was the kind of day that feels
like a sweltering city night
when the AC’s freon blows out
and sweat begins to blur your sight.
The heat trickled down my spine
and quickly rose back up again,
Making slow work of earth and time
til’ I began to ponder when.
When will this labor of wills end?
Why should I continue at all?
Out here where the trees bend too low
and the grass grows into the fall?
What was the point of this again?
What good could it possibly bring?
If no one is here to share it,
and no one can hear what you sing.
If you could sing at all, that is.
Who could sing under such duress?
Bitten, itchy and exhausted,
I yearned to put this day to rest.
But for the chance it might improve,
I kept—past the point of reason—
even when I started praying
He would end the summer season.
Perhaps an imprint from the past—
that’s the best I can imagine—
is what urged me to continue,
some strange personal religion.
Knowing that today’s suffering
may only yield two swollen feet,
some scrapes, and a relentless rash
that will likely last for a week.
But then I saw it. A glimmer
reflecting in the lonely heat.
A sign of the eternal hope,
pleading with me not to retreat.
The blackflies were still circling.
The deerflies never stopped biting.
But I forgot them all at once
when Round Pond came out of hiding.
— ❧ —
Poetry From Nature
It was a rough, hot hike the day I did the Mack-Klem Loop. It’s not the hardest hike, but the heat made it a good challenge. And like every hike (usually), something good came out of it. For more poems inspired by nature, head over to In Verse. Enjoy!
