[Editor’s Note: In our Community Voices column this month, we are honored to share the poetry of Deborah Hamon. Deborah is a California-based painter, photographer, writer, trail runner, hiker, avid traveler, dark chocolate lover, and mother to a teenage daughter. Her creative pursuits are inspired by nature which you can follow @deborahhamon on Instagram . In this column each month, we showcase the work of a writer, visual artist, or other creative type from within our global trail running and ultrarunning community. Our goal is to tell stories about our sport in creative and innovative ways. Read more about the concept in our launch article. We invite you to submit your work for consideration!]
They are the best of times, they are the worst of times
They are my spring of hope in light and darkness
Two metal masses perched high
Ever transforming me.
Beacons of promise
Seen from afar.
But oh to delight in the details
Inhaling the sunrise, exhaling the sunset
Golden hair, golden fields conversing
Orange painted poppies on green
Creeks singing, dewdrops clinging
Lively flirting with fog
Sometimes sunny views ensue
(I am wowed and will forever proclaim out loud)
Sometimes cloud so thick towers disappear when near
(To be clear it’s not the structures I hold dear)
Such flavors to savor
Salty tears of wind, of joy, of sometimes sadness
Fog rainbows, real rainbows, rainbow dreams
The stuff runs are made of.
And the spectacles to behold
Can you believe rare snow last week?
The solar eclipse sought but clouded
A lunar eclipse chased but drowned
Ah but when the stars align
A transcendent sunset, full moon encore and sounds in the night
The exquisiteness of a super blue blood moon
The gale force winds that blew me to you
Friends big and small
Dashing over darting lizard
Clapping for coyote, a captive audience
Soaring ascension with hawk
Hare why did you stand so still
Affrighting us both as foot met tail?
Bob who finally appeared and stealthily split
Summit hummie who assured his own short ode
And once, cow playing chicken
As we often instinctively do
When we find ourselves on the wrong side of the fence
My soothing voice victorious
Albeit the same voice futile
As a soprano snake charmer.
One year wildcam waving
Did I brighten your every other day?
Eternally atop the selfie queen
Connecting time with place and face
Bygone summits summoned push-ups
Now wiser, slower
I simply linger at the crown.
Left foot, right foot, meditation, thought
Struggle, flow, everything, always
Forgetting myself, remembering myself
The trail to two towers.
Call for Comments (from Meghan)
- Do you have a unique topographic or geographic entity that compels you in your trail running or other outdoor explorations?
- What details of your own natural environment do you notice as you trail run?