Quaking Aspen Leaves . . . (Populus tremoloides, most widely distributed
tree of North America.) On the road in the American Northwest. [ click photo for next . . . ]

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RHYTHM & TEMPO?

Rhythm, comes from walking;
Tempo, from the heartbeat.

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and the best of classical music together. The sonosphere—the
sea of sounds which surrounds us—deserves as much attention
and care as our water and air!

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THE ASPEN OF FORGETFULNESS

Some things we wish to remember; others, we'd rather
forget. The latter we'd prefer to see turn yellow and dry,
withering away till they fall like autumn leaves to the
ground, feeding the fertile humus of some common past
under our feet.

Descending a steep southern slope, I stop to rest a while
under an old doug-fir. The late-summer draw is dry, but sill
full of the lush green of quaking aspens.

Heart-shaped leaves on long, slender stems, some say
the most beautifully proportioned leaf of all deciduous trees,
their blades now quivering in the gentle afternoon wind like
the soft skin of a young woman first falling in love.

The sound of the leaves glistens with light-filled silences
between the green blades, the shape of the whole coming
in slow, easy waves that seem to say in a receding, ever-
softer echoing, "Let it go. Let it go. Let it go."

I look for a pen to write something down, which I can't find,
and then look at the new blank page I had ready. This I fold
up and put back into my pocket, as I shoulder my pack, stand
and start walking again down the hill, happy to have rested
a while among aspen and fir, and forgetting about all those
things in the past that now seem continents away, that I
really didn't intend to, didn't want to, really didn't need
to say.

Camp Lost & Found,
Eagle Cap Wilderness,
Oregon, VIII.17.2008

THE ASPEN OF FORGETFULNESS is part of THE LITTLE CLAVIER
please preview 150 of 631 pages
w/ my black & white photography [opens in new window]
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I might just mention here, following the ethical principle,
First, do no harm, I never use cars or snowmachines. I
do everything on foot, bike or ski. I think this in a
deep and direct way affects my work, and how I see
the world. So all the photos above were approached
on foot, including all the in between spaces, sometimes
involving journeys of weeks or months.

I would not want to work any other way.

All Photographs & texts by Cliff Crego © 1999-2011 picture-poems.com
(created: IX.3.2007)