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Once Wagons Rumbled

May, 2019. My wife and I are headed north on US191 in southeastern Utah toward Moab and Salt Lake City. The two-lane highway leads us over the high plains desert plateau and through gorgeous scenery of red rock, pinyon pines, junipers, purple sage, and blackbrush. Being late spring, the weather is already very sunny, hot and dry. Water is almost non-existent while dry washes only hint at flash floods from rainfalls which rarely happen. In fact, most showers evaporate before ever reaching the ground. Although the land is beautiful, a sensation of ambivalent hostility is hard to avoid.

simmering desert…

a rain shower morphs

into steam

After several hours of traveling under the blazing sun, we are blessed to finally find cooling ‘shade’ under growing storm clouds. We stop at a roadside park for a little rest and a cold drink. Then, with renewed enthusiasm, we continue our journey through the endless natural beauty unfolding before us. Mile after mile, we seldom see any evidence of human habitation or other vehicles on the highway which fosters a somewhat disconcerting sense of remoteness and loneliness. As evening draws near we finally arrive at civilization. Later, as we setup at an RV park for the night, I find myself being very thankful for the fresh water, air-conditioning, and food we always just take for granted.

Note: Bobbie’s photos that day capture well both the beauty and the harshness of the Colorado desert plateau which the old mid-1800s Santa Fe Trail pioneers had to cross in wagon trains as they plodded their way westward. They were a hardy, tough, self-reliant, and self-sufficient people. Could we do the same today?

Haiku: Al Gallia
Photo: Bobbie Gallia

Featured

The Dead Leaf

One of my greatest joys is wandering along trails in Louisiana’s swamps and woodlands, always with my camera and hiking stick in hand. Meandering and communing with God amidst nature’s solitude and beauty almost always brings my soul the peace, quiet and happiness it seeks. It is winter now and, after several frosts, the deciduous trees and shrubs have shed most of their leaves. A fresh north wind carries the scent of a campfire as it swirls the dry leaves. A single leaf struggles to hold fast to a cypress branch…

a dead leaf

hanging from the bare cypress…

gusting wind

Al Gallia

Daily Haiku: June 30, 2019

Susan’s senryu presents a dark, ominous moment that gives the reader latitude on with the event. Perhaps a man and women on a moonlit walk or a robbery in progress? Or maybe, during a blood moon, answering Jesus’ persistent call to follow him.

Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog

senryu

blood moon

he doesn’t take no

for an answer

by SusanBurch (USA)

2nd Place

Marlene Mountain Memorial Haiku Contest, 2018

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Daily Haiku: June 19, 2019

Sitting here in our RV in eastern Oregon, heading home to Louisiana, dust motes are very real as the hot morning sun rises and we discuss today’s adventure. Love this, Susan.

Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog

discussing our options dust motes in the afternoon sun
 
by Susan Beth Furst (USA), Author
road to utopia

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Daily Haiku: April 28, 2019

Thank you, Charlotte, for posting my haiku. I am honored.

veranda nap . . .

sea oats swaying to

the surf’s rhythm

https://charlottedigregorio.wordpress.com/2019/04/27/daily-haiku-april-28-2019/

Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog

veranda nap . . .

sea oats swaying to

the surf’s rhythm

by Al Gallia (USA)

Asahi Haikuist Network, Aug. 31, 2018

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Daily Haiku: April 24, 2019

I am honored to be featured in Charlotte Digregorio’s writers blog today! Thank you, Charlotte.

a coyote’s yipping

echoes in the canyon…

sage fills the night air

https://charlottedigregorio.wordpress.com/2019/04/23/daily-haiku-april-24-2019/

Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog

a coyote’s yipping

echoes in the canyon . . .

sage fills the night air

by Al Gallia  (USA)

Under the Basho, (Modern Haiku), Sept. 10, 2018

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