"Built heart being The Windmill"
Land's heart is creek;
Susurrous sounds of infinite eddies;
Spelling life, shape changing daily;
The place to take the ducks
For soul regeneration and chest repair
Built heart being The Windmill
and the Tower, pumping, again.....
Water and marking time in circular fashion
Do you know how hard it is to get four strong 30 foot 6 x 6s
And bolt on 2 x 10 cross braces, Xs in Golden Mean ?
Carrying the turn of the century on our backs,
bonding with the craftsmen who designed gears and pitmans and
Babbitt bearings, sucker rod and stuffing boxes,
back when cast iron was king, history turning to make way
do you know how hard it is to make a new "sail" ?
The old guy at the sheet metal place does,
"Do not bring me another one", says he,
"I had to cut those by hand and my hands hurt"
Do you know how to erect a 30 tower?Or climb one for that matter?
Well neither did I till 31 years ago.
Do you know how scary it is up there,
Begging the questions of death and disaster?
Well neither did I having given up rock climbing
After that episode with Monique up in Cape Breton.
...Bonding with the mast climbers of yore at sea,
borrowing their descriptions of what is happening
In the Wind.
And, cupful by cupful, breathe by breathe, whisper and gale;
the Windmill spins and groans, sounding for all intents and purposes
Like a whale
Dryland leviathan skeleton
Picturesque archetypal phenomenon;
water oozing from the pipe to feed the forests
"We" planted, quench the thirst and beat the drought.
The grown children remember it with chills and twinges
As they ruminate and visualize where they came from,
their memory spinner, Guardian and Constant.
Giant weather vane for all to see,
Perch for feathered friends in calm weather
They even told me so
And it is a monument; put on maps everywhere
Like Camel Rock or Morphy Lake
Like a natural spring; gotta know where they are.....
Like a watercress patch or a stand of ponderosas,
Like the old bulldozer with its front bucket,
Like a husband or a wife or child;
take photos at every chance as they are so beautiful
in this light and that
A mystery like a ship in the fog
A friend of many years who has watched you grow
And then grow old and you them.
Has been there for you and you for it.
Part of your life, like dandylions, blue flax, sunflowers
Part of your soul like windy days, rain and water
Part of your work, like your shop, your truck or your children
Something you would sorely miss if they were gone
Tragic as you ponder what you did wrong along the way
Like that burro that died young; only 25
So many years being there and then the dying silver-grey donkey
staring at you, leaning like a drunkard against the crawler
Seconds from the final fall that spelled the end
In ways only I, perhaps, will ever understand
Leaving a hole where a whirring stood
They say it is hard to kill a Swede
and I say it is hard to kill a donkey
Hard to hit the bullseye, Co, they shoot at the little" o"
way up there; too tempting it seems,
like tormenting burros
And easy to take a windmill for granted
Thanks to Aermotor's tough design
Rural gift.......of water and ...to be...
The heart of the land and the friend of
The homesteader......Part of.......
The Land Ethic