When a Tree Thundered

A strong breeze broke the early morning calm

As we walked the canyon track

Early summer snow still stacked

The Creek flows as the mountains balm

Higher we climbed post holes occurred often

For the old golden Jack who led in haste

Stuck in snow beyond his waist

He looked back upon the herd face softened

The two folks made a choice

To go no further and enjoy the view

The canyons edge we rejoiced

I looked out and saw a sheep it flew

Off a cliffs edge which startled my gaze

Not a sheep but a tree went out with a bang

Inspired by a trekking trip in the the Rattlesnake Recreation area in Montana, this sonnet entails one of my most powerful memories in nature. it was early June when much of the snow higher in the mountains hadn't melted when two friends and myself went camping eight miles walkin in to the mountains. One friend left in the morning while the other and myself with his golden retreiver Jack continued on in hopes we could stay another night. Soon however we came to snow and were unable to continue going as Jack, 14 years old at this point, couldn't continue. We called it quits and decided to sit at the edge of the canyon, looking to the mountain across the way as the creek raged below.

Jack sat patiently as my friend and I gazed towards our world as we wondered what was going on in our society. At one moment, my eye caught something that looked like a big horn sheep running down the mountain. In a strange moment, I thought the big horn sheep was suicidal as it ran swiftly towards the edge of a cliff. Then I thought, maybe a mountain lion is chasing it?

As it lept of the edge and twirled head over feet in mid air I realized it was not a big horn sheep. It was a tree. The canyon thundered with a massive strike of shattering wood as the pieces undoubtly scattered in to oblivion. My friend asked "what was that"? I responded "you didn't see that? A tree just fell off of a cliff." Still amazed at what I saw, we moved on shortly for the wind was too strong.

My mind a little hectic and ears ringing, why did I see this and not my friend? In ways I put myself above others and others I put myself below. In this moment I felt special because I saw this beautiful even occur when my brother, not blood but through spirit, did not see this magical situation occur. Why me and not him? This magical human who cares deeply about the natural existence we find ourselves living in. Why did my eye catch it and not his? My mind raced back and forth to come to no real conclusion but held the idea that I was special.

Now, that idea seems far fetched and ridiculous. I looked in one direction, he looked in another. I was looking up canyon and him, down. So what is this about being better or worse? I know it comes from the competitive mind of an athlete in which I grew up in. But why special in a moment so little as this? In a moment of chance rather then practice. Is this idea of being better than so prevelant that it expands beyond the boundaries of logical?

I was young in mind and lost in that time. My mind became a powerful servant. Now, I am learning to master it through practices and patience. Better than is a construct that needs to shatter like the tree the thundered through the canyon. Comparison, the death of the heart path.

Bryan Jae