Hello again friends. I had planned to write a post in the fall, but time seems to have gotten away from me and it's now the beginning of December. Regardless, I'd like to share a poem I wrote during the fall season. It was written while I was at my favorite, and most peaceful place I know, “Elk Camp.” Located at 10,000 feet in elevation somewhere in the Colorado mountains. No, I will not go into further detail on its location, but this place has been a source of peace for me since I was a young girl. My dad started bringing my sister and I there to elk hunt when we were probably around the ages of 14-15, maybe slightly younger even. From the first time I rode in my dad's truck up the winding and rocky road towards our camp, it has been one of my favorite places on earth. I have never experienced somewhere as quiet and beautiful as our little valley. It truly is our own little slice of heaven. We get to go up there once a year with a handful of close friends for elk hunting season, and it’s the week of the year that I start counting down to the moment our tires leave the rutted dirt road that takes you there.
Our camp sits at the head of a long weaving valley with a creek that snakes and winds through it, providing water to the multitudes of wildlife that calls it home. We refer to it simply as, “The Valley.” Here you can find herds of elk, deer, and lone meandering moose. Then there’s the grouse, chattering squirrels and chipmunks, and the howling yipping coyotes. The Valley and the surrounding forest provide a habitat for them all plus countless more, living their lives right there in the quiet and truly stunning backdrop I get to be a part of for one week.
The overwhelming gratitude I feel to get to be a part of it is something I think about every year. It's not lost on me how special this place is, and we all feel that way. We treat it with respect and gratefulness for the harvest it provides us almost every year we hunt there. We are able to take meat home to feed all of our families for the year to come. I will never take this place for granted. The Valley feels sacred to me, and I hope that I will be able to come back to it and ground myself for the rest of my life. That’s the ultimate dream.
One of the staple pastimes at Elk Camp is sitting around an absolutely roaring fire. As simple as it may be, I’ve always been mesmerized by the flames of a campfire. No two fires are ever the same, and many of us have referred to it as “Elk Camp TV” over the years. There's nothing like a chilly stary night spent sitting out by the fire with good friends. That simple but treasured pastime is what inspired this poem. Enjoy.
Original Photo: Sienna Maunton
Written on October 25, 2024.
The flames lick up to the sky in a sorcerer’s dance
Turning the wood black and then white hot
Red burns through the cracking coals as they glow with their infernal heat
A hunters treat to come back to the warmth and the flames and the lilting laughter of friends
Dissipating into the smoke and the crisp mountain air
Photo credits at the top of the post go to two good friends, Dan Ziegler and MV. Thanks for the awesome shots guys!
Check out Dan's YouTube channel (@BeastMonkey42) for a closer look at what Elk Camp looked like this year!
https://youtu.be/TQh2XwFaVqg?si=F1IXSyMYzIG3jE9m
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Brings me back! Thanks for sharing