Tag Archives: outdoors

Hunting

I have never felt so in tune with the natural world, so sure of my place and my part on our planet as when I find myself far from the road and the beaten path, hunting wild game.It is very difficult to relate this to others as the experience is profoundly personal and intrinsically spiritual. 

Often I find myself able to relate to a fellow hunter and sometimes maybe, just maybe, I am able to relate the hunting experience to someone who is not.

When I find myself alone in the outdoors, at peace with myself, I see life beginning and ending and beginning again as it was always meant to be. 

I see the autumn leaves blaze in the brightest sunlight and the stars of Orion’s belt poke through the blackest shroud of night.

Every sound, every smell and every sight is truly a gift.

I feel my God’s presence and love, nonjudgemental and unconditional, as it was always meant to be.

I walk into the outdoors with an overwhelming sense of gratitude each and every time and it never grows old.

My life is saved every time I enter the woods to go hunting, my soul belonging to the ritual.

As it was always meant to be.

10/9/15

Bradford, NH

Leave a comment

Filed under Creative Writing, Writing

December

Willow branches encased
In delicate ice
Become numberless prisms
For the slow rising sun,
The coldest hour of the day
Becomes the brightest
And the Master’s designs
Are revealed
with painstaking patience
To those who would wake
To watch the advancing thaw
And wonder.

December 2014

Leave a comment

Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing

Rains

culvert

The rains come

And never really clean

The parking lots and streets

And driveways

Just carry things away

To unseen places

Far away, insensate pools

Oil residue

Creates a kaleidoscopic slick

Upon the water’s surface

As even more spills forth

Churning indefatigably from the culvert’s maw.

© Erik Hansen 2014

Leave a comment

Filed under Creative Writing, Poetry, Writing

Oceans

                                                                      Oceans

The distance

And mists mute the tone

Of the buoy’s bell

Far offshore

Ocean’s metronome

Further off a horn sounds

Ghost calls made for spirits

The living slumber below

Warm bunks and low lights

The soft splashing

Of cold waves

Against the gunwales

The soft rolling

Of something

Unsecured on the deck above.

© Erik Hansen 2014

Leave a comment

Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing

Roaring Brook

Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under Edges