More lazy vacation photo-blogging

More lazy/vacation photo-blogging; from a recent trip into the high hills. Ten thousand people lived here, before 1500CE.

Here's a poem by Gary Snyder that seems relevant:

THROUGH THE SMOKE HOLE for Don Allen

I

There is another world above this one; or outside of this one; the way to

it is thru the smoke of this one, & the hole that smoke goes

through. The ladder is the way through the smoke hole; the

ladder holds up, some say, the world above; it might have

been a tree or pole; I think it is merely a way.

Fire is at the foot of the ladder. The fire is in the center. The walls are

round. There is also another world below or inside this one.

The way there is down thru smoke. It is not necessary to

think of a series.

Raven and Magpie do not need the ladder. They fly thru the smoke holes

shrieking and stealing. Coyote falls thru; we recognize him

only as a clumsy relative, a father in old clothes we don’t

wish to see with our friends.

It is possible to cultivate the fields of our own world without much thought

for the others. When men emerge from below we see them

as the masked dancers of our magic dreams. When men dis-

appear down, we see them as plain men going somewhere

else. When men disappear up we see them as great heroes

shining through the smoke. When men come back from above

they fall thru and tumble; we don’t really know them; Coyote,

as mentioned before.

II

Out of the kiva come

masked dancers or

plain men.

plain men go into the ground.

out there outside all the chores

wood and water, dirt,

wind, the view across the flat,

here, in the round

no corners

head is full of magic figures —

woman your secrets aren’t my secrets

what I cant say I wont

walk round

put my hands flat down

you in the round too.

gourd vine blossom.

walls and houses drawn up

from the same soft soil.

thirty million years gone

drifting sand.

cool rooms pink stone

worn down fort floor, slat sighting

heat shine on jumna river

dry wash, truck tracks in the riverbed

coild sand pinion.

seabottom

riverbank

sand dunes

the floor of a sea once again.

human fertilizer,

underground water tunnels,

skinny dirt gods,

grandmother berries,

out

through the smoke hole.

(for childhood and youth are vanity

a Permian reef of algae,

out through the smoke hole

swallowd sand

salt mud

swum bodies, flap

to the limestone blanket —

lizard tongue, lizard tongue

wha, wha, wha flying

~n and out thru the smoke hole

plain men

come out of the ground.