nature rules

Sitting on the floor of Death Valley,

An oasis in an america that seldom sanctions silence

Reminds me of the first time I visited Sable Island

An oasis in the North Atlantic that still silently serves

where the harsh winter equals the harsh summer here



life can’t escape time and nature

and death isn’t hidden or sanitized

the remnants of the harsh seasons and past generations

lie about like scattered treasure

and humble reminders of impermanence and vanity



The salamander, snake and scorpion here and the wild horse and seal there

live and die by nature’s rules

in a land unfrequented by people and exacting in it’s harshness

where each plant and animal can survive better than man

but only man can survive the rigors of both



As marram grass anchor the sands

the snake outgrows his skin

and man returns to dirt

the insatiable soil and sea stands silent

set for the next unsuspecting visitor


man has always viewed each natural wonder for richness and resource

the path of one thing often leading to the destruction of another

when only remnants of man remain, it will be plain

That places like these should serve no person

and remain silent testaments to the art of the great spirit