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| The last photo of Barry and me, 2008, taken for my poetry book, Now Might as Well be Then, published in 2009 |
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| Winter at my house a few years ago. |
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| Winter in my woods |
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| Brasstown Bald, highest peak in Georgia with dusting of snow. Photo taken from my deck.
I am sick with a cold and not up to writing a post today. So I decided to post some photos I like. |
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| Sailboat on the bay in Nova Scotia. I liked the cleanliness and fresh air. I could live there except I don't want to be so far from my family. |
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| Bison graze at Yellowstone in 2003. This trip motivated me to write a number of poems. I will always remember the wildlife and the wonders of Yellowstone Park. I hope we will always have our national parks and national monuments.
Scene from Yellowstone’s
Valiant Wild
By Glenda Council Beall
A
young male strode down the mountainside,
crossed
the road, strutted into shallow waters
of
the Gallatin river. He stalked the old bull elk
grazing
alone on the other side.
The
herd master ignored the gauntlet for a while,
then
quick like a rattler striking, charged from the bank.
The
clash of antlers cracked like breaking pines
in
an ice storm, rolling sound upstream and down.
On
land once more, the battle halted
while
both tried to maneuver bony-branched horns
between
the lodge pole pines. A minute’s rest--
then
back into the current.
Strong
hind quarters, taunt neck muscles, bunched
like
iron cables, pushed, retreated, up and down
the
icy stream. The match wore on for more
than
twenty minutes.
Heads
low, antlers commingled like old bones
collected
in a basket, until the young stud forced
his
aging foe beneath the water’s surface, held him there.
The
veteran of a life of valiant clashes at last broke free.
He
crashed and splashed downstream, the loser,
bleating
like a lamb who's lost his mother.
Posing
for cameras on the roadside,
the
victor, centered in the roaring river,
raised
his head and shook his massive rack.
He bugled his triumphant call
to his new harem
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