In Celebration of the Winds

100 miles of mountains

Rumbling rivers, creeks, and streams. Water left pure From the moment it falls On the Continental Divide, as rain or snow, And begins its journey Down to the oceans.

Some of it goes into the ground. Some fills my cup. Some provides the Brook Trout a place to live. Some give the Spruces a drink. Some make wallows for the elk. Some create glaciers. And some goes back into the sky and falls again.

Up here, the water is guarded for a while, By the Winds, The Wind River Mountains that is.

The range of mountains is inhospitable to some, But beckoning to others. The place is too rough for roads, But covered with paths.

People go there, To hike, fish, climb, camp, Meander, sit, ponder, and dream.

But few remain — There are other places Better suited to Building, driving, using, living, And staying.

Since protecting the water Is a full-time job, The mountains, forest, Creeks, and meadows, Are left free to do What they do best. And they do it well.

Eventually, The water will move out of their grasp And nourish the flatlands.

It’ll irrigate corn, bathe babies, Water lawns, and get purified For drinking.

One way or another, The water will change,

Once it flows beyond The protection of the Winds — For better or worse.

But up in this neck of the woods, All is well for a time. And the water is clear Thanks to Pingora, Gannett, and Fremont. Dinwoody, Lizard Head, Desolation, and The Sphinx. Washakie Pass, Titcomb Basin, Dickinson Park, and The Cirque of the Towers. Popo Agie River, Deep Creek Lakes, Mitchell Peak, and Wolf’s Head. Stough Creek, Three Fork’s Park, Wind River Peak, And so many more…

The world is a better place Because of them.

This poem also appears on my website, adventurestold.com