DAILY PHOTO: Posing Butterfly

Taken in the summer of 2019 in Kazakhstan.

POEM: The Ouroboros of Life & Death

The forest floor —
strewn with damp leaf litter
&
slightly twisted twin-pronged needles.

Fungal fruiting bodies,
caps sprinkled with grit,
stand sentry over the rich, black loam.

The musty smell at life & death’s edge
reigns subtly supreme.

We call it decay, and think it a death stench,
but that ground echoes the ouroboros —
the mythical serpent consuming it’s own tail —
eater and eaten are one —
life and death are thusly intertwined in that dark soil.

DAILY PHOTO: Seed Pod

Taken in Assam in May of 2017.

DAILY PHOTO: Red Flowers, Chennagiri Hill

Taken on Chennagiri Hill on July 4, 2020.

POEM: The Monster

“To freeze or flee?” Asks creatures terrified,
when monsters stomp through forests, glens, or fields.
I know what it’s like, standing stuck mid-stride.
Yet, I’m more oft the monster than he who yields.

Maybe you wonder on the monster’s life,
if the fact never occurred to you that you’re
the stomping monster of the chipmunk’s strife.
when you have that most pleasant hike or tour.

The screech, that call, that’s screamed to each and all
is not some passing fancy or fevered
dancing of critters seeking daytime prowls.
They’re warning others they feel beleaguered.

“You must be this tall to be a monster,”
reads a sign no taller than a lobster.

DAILY PHOTO: Hills Near Ramanagara

Taken on July 3, 2020 near Ramanagara.

DAILY PHOTO: Cool Bugs of Karnataka

Dead Leaf Mantis; Taken in Ramanagara Hills on July 3, 2020

Six-Spotted Ground Beetle [a.k.a. Saber-Tooth Ground Beetle and Domino Beetle — fyi: Don’t pick up these buggers as they spray formic acid.]

Mantis; Chennagiri Hill; July 4, 2020

Wasps; Chennagiri; July 4, 2020

DAILY PHOTO: Shathashrunga Landscapes

Taken in November of 2019

POEM: Day’s End Dance


Patches of pink on army green —
the rhododendrons bloom.
In the hills of Himalaya —
gone the sad winter gloom.

Gone the weight of weary sinew —
the soul begins its float.
We feel the fire of shining skies
as we shed pack and coat.

The body, so still and silent —
nonetheless takes to dance.
The hike’s exhaustion falls away
and one tunes in the trance.

Haiku of Bamboo

old bamboo
creaks, claps, and rattles
new bamboo…


once bats hung
on swaying bamboo
now cut down


clustered bamboo,
a dark hiding spot
on sunny days


flex like bamboo
and grow like bamboo —
be bamboo