“Old Stump & Island at Sunset”

On March 6, 2022 By Mike U.In Photography35 Comments

W53-1(S)—Old Stump & Island at Sunset, Flathead Lake, Montana
During my trip to Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota in 1996, my buddy Jeff and I visited Flathead Lake, the largest natural body of freshwater in the western U.S. This resulted in one of my favorite images. There’s something so stark and mournful about this scene. To me, the stump resembles an animal crying out in pain to the oblivious heavens. This was shot on color slide film but the lighting conditions rendered it almost completely black and white, which lends a surreal touch to the image. I could have used a graduated neutral density filter to hold back exposure on the sky and give it some color, but it was dusk anyway and the sky was a faded, washed-out blue which appears almost devoid of hue in the final image, an effect I prefer for this scene. The water wasn’t completely calm but the long exposure removed all traces of wavelet movement and produced an almost mist-like appearance. My friend Jeff and I were at the same spot at the same time, and his image of this stump was completely different from mine. It’s fascinating how people can interpret the same scene in vastly distinct and personal ways. (Canon gear, Fuji Velvia ISO 50)

“The Bonfire”

On March 4, 2022June 18, 2023 By Mike U.In Poetry36 Comments

“The Bonfire”
(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

in our exuberance to burn the words
Bradbury sagely nods and Orwell sighs
as shock-troopers corral the motley herds
and churlish masses watch with sullen eyes

bonfires glow red in every city square
eight thousand million names recited there
black smoke and fetid fumes assault the air
as filthy faces flicker in the glare

the Keepers of the Words arrive anon
in every town and burg in all the lands
and silence drops like cluster bombs upon
the billions gathered, and within their hands

the Keepers of the Words display The Tome
wherein all words of man have found their home
brought forth from dark cob-webby catacomb
a vade mecum in the darkling gloam

and with the fall of night the Keeper speaks
to all assembled round the burning pyre
“The time has come for every man who seeks
to purge his mind and cleanse his soul in fire…

“To speak one’s mind is tantamount to sin;
tomes with the thoughts of others writ within
shall lead you to the darkness and the din
of hellfire and the madness found therein…

“And so, to save your soul and cleanse your heart
Dear Leader, in his love and lenity,
has offered you a choice: from words depart
and rollick in silent indemnity,

“or immolate your filthy craven mind
and burn to ashes your pathetic rind–
obedience is bliss; the fire unkind
live silently, or fry in flames refined.”

smoke from the bonfire eddies in the night
as nervous glances dart among the crowd
and hands grip slips of paper, knuckles tight
where words are scrawled to soon be read aloud

the Keeper of the Words begins the rite
and summons forth the first name of the night
and from the crowd a man steps toward the light
his gait unsure, his face an ashen white

“Your word, comrade,” the Keeper’s voice demands
“or else the fire…it’s up to you, good sir…”
and from the paper held in shaking hands
he reads a single solitary word

“Freedom…”

then with a cry the guards drag him away
and Keeper of the Words calls out to say
“The word ‘freedom’ is stricken forth this day
from mankind’s lexicon…small price to pay…

“…for one’s life, is it not?” and with a grin
announces the next name, and from the pack
a ragged woman, elderly and thin
approaches bravely, never looking back

“Your word, comrade…” the Keeper starts to say
“You’ll have no word of mine, not on this day
or any day!” the woman says, a fey
expression of defiance aimed his way

and crumpling her paper in her ire
she drops it on the ground and cries aloud
then launches her old body toward the fire
and burns as horror overwhelms the crowd

“Her word was ‘love,’” the Keeper says, amused,
“and though this woman steadfastly refused
to sacrifice this word, someone will choose
to strike it from existence,” and bemused

he calls another name, and then the next
and on it went throughout the endless night
as words like hope and peace fell from the text
of Keeper’s Tome, and love faded from sight

and in the end, at breaking of the day
we all depart and make our solemn way
into a silent world of empty grey
with nothing left for anyone to say

…..

(This poem is inspired by the recent rash of censorship being pushed by the republican party here in America, where books are being banned and even burned as right-wing radicals promote fear, lies and hatred aimed at people of color and marginalized groups. Also, in many places across the globe, freedom of speech is under siege as authoritarian regimes crack down on those who speak truth and expose their evil deeds. As writers, we cannot allow this to happen. We have voices; we must use them to ensure all people are free to speak their minds.)

“Sandstone Cliff & Tower”

On March 3, 2022May 12, 2022 By Mike U.In Photography31 Comments

NP4-1(S)–Sandstone Cliff & Tower, Big Spring Canyon, Canyonlands Natl. Park, SE Utah
Canyonlands National Park in southeast Utah is known for its expansive canyons, sprawling mesas and towering sandstone pinnacles. It also has an infinite variety of more intimate landscapes such as this rock formation standing sentinel above a small canyon. Not everything has to be immense to hold beauty and meaning. I like the contrasting colors, rugged textures and the hint of towers in the background, as well as the sky which seems to go on forever. On this day, two of my young nephews accompanied me (babysitter Uncle Mike) and I had to keep an eagle eye on them as all they saw were rocks and all they wanted to do was climb them. I had the boys nestled in an alcove off to the left to ensure their safety while I composed this image, then we explored some more and had a fun time. (Canon gear, Fuji Velvia ISO 50)

“She was Six”

On March 1, 2022August 13, 2023 By Mike U.In Poetry40 Comments

“She was Six”
(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

she was six
and on the wrong side
of a tyrant’s bomb sights
her small broken body
no match for
the shells and the hell
that befell
her country
city
neighborhood
block
home
her blood the price
of freedom
she was six

she was six
and on the wrong corner
of the wrong intersection
at the wrong time
as gang-bangers
threw lead
and fled
as she bled
just a typical night
in a typical city
she was six

she was six
and in the wrong classroom
at the wrong school
as a true patriot
flexed his might
and exercised his 2A right
to murder school children
another day
in the USA
she was six

she was six
and the wrong color
at the wrong border
snatched from her parents
caged like an animal
lost in the system
as racist thugs
praise god and country
and build their wall
one sin at a time
she was six

she was six
and the wrong religion
in the wrong village
her captors didn’t care
she didn’t last long enough
to stain their conscience anyway
all in the name of god
she was six

she was six
and on the wrong side of town
hollow eyes and empty stomach
the manic cackle of inhumanity
the soundtrack of her life
bruised body and soul
this dark alleyway to hell
her only escape
she was six

we have lost our way

“A Few Haiku (33)”

On February 28, 2022 By Mike U.In Poetry33 Comments

(#193)

ursine winter’s claws
rend and tear and desecrate
yellow petals fall

…..

(#194)

this endless winter
memories of sunflowers
as the cities burn

…..

(#195)

children shall run free
in gilded sunflower fields
when this winter ends

…..

(#196)

glowing sunflowers
where there is light there is hope
we stand with Ukraine

…..

(#197)

sunflower seeds
plant the gardens of healing
watered with tears

…..

(#198)

cowards who start wars
shall die in ignominy
putin’s legacy

“Rock, Sheep Mountain & Trout Lake”

On February 27, 2022February 27, 2022 By Mike U.In Photography38 Comments

W39-1(S)—Rock, Sheep Mountain & Trout Lake, SW Colorado
Trout Lake is located about ten miles from the small tourist village of Telluride in southwest Colorado. Situated at nearly 10,000 feet elevation in the Lizard Head Pass area, it’s my second-favorite spot on the planet, just behind Heceta Head Lighthouse on the Oregon Coast. This mid-’90s autumn image was taken after most of the leaves had turned and fallen and a dusting of new snow blanketed the mountain. It was bitter cold when I made this image. My hands were frozen and my fingers were numb, making the operation of the camera difficult. I was hand-holding a rectangular two-stop soft-edged graduated neutral density filter in front of my 24mm f/2.8 wide-angle lens to hold back exposure on the snowy mountain to balance the scene (the filter mount didn’t work properly on wide-angle lenses, resulting in vignetting in the corners, hence the hand-held improvisation). I was shaking and trying not to cloud the lens with my breath. The tripod’s legs were in the water in order to get the rock where I wanted it in the frame. It took several minutes to finally get the shot, but when the slides came back a few days later, it was all worth it. This image is among my favorites. I wanted the essence of simplicity for this shot, a Spartan approach to evoke a sense of loneliness with just the basic elements of the rock, the water and the mountain. The varying shades of blue add to the austere nature of the scene. There is silence here, and contemplation, and a feeling of being part of the scene for me, not just someone behind the camera. (Canon gear, Fuji Velvia ISO 50)

“Fleabane & Dead Log”

On February 24, 2022 By Mike U.In Photography35 Comments

F43(S)–Fleabane & Dead Log, Taylor Mesa, SW Colorado
I’ve always liked the stark contrast between the small flower and the “eye” of the dead log–sort of a counterpoint of life and death, color and a lack thereof, softness and the dry, almost bone-like texture of the wood. There’s a sense of longing in this photograph, a loneliness, as though the flower is looking skyward in search of hope and compassion, and the “all-seeing eye” is perhaps blind to its supplications for love and mercy. This image was probably my late-mother’s favorite of all of my nature photography. She kept a framed 8×10 of this image on the wall for decades. It brings back a lot of memories. (Canon gear, Fuji Velvia ISO 50)

“Heceta Head Lighthouse”

On February 21, 2022February 21, 2022 By Mike U.In Photography57 Comments

W6—Heceta Head Lighthouse, Heceta Head State Park, Oregon Coast
In late March 1995, I took a solo road trip to the Oregon Coast. I’d never done anything remotely similar prior to that, and it was a long drive from my residence in southwest Colorado, but it was Spring Break at the tech school where I was studying and I had the opportunity, as well as a brand new bottom-of-the-line Canon SLR and a 35-80mm f/4.5-5.6 lens. I spent a week along the coast, heading from Coos Bay in the south to Astoria at the northwest tip, and was in awe the entire time. I shot about ten rolls of “typical touristy snapshots,” but this image spoke volumes to me when I had the film developed and viewed the prints for the first time. This is the image that changed my life and set me on a path of pursuing nature photography, something I’d immerse myself in for the next decade or so. This location is my favorite spot on the planet. I was there during a vicious early spring storm system that produced gale-force winds and massive waves most of the week. This image exemplifies the ruggedness and sheer power of the Oregon Coast. I keep coming back to this simple photograph when I need reassurance that there is still beauty in this world, that perhaps hope still exists. This is a transcendent locale for me. I’ve walked the trail to that distant lighthouse and placed my hands on its alabaster skin and gazed out across the endless sea and felt the sun and salt breeze on my face. It’s my heaven, and when I die I hope to have my ashes spread there. It feels like home to me. So, while this image may not evoke or inspire rave reviews, it is the most important image I’ve ever made and resonates deeply within my heart and soul. I wanted to share it with the good folks in this wonderful WordPress community to spread the beauty and hope I found that seminal day at the Oregon Coast. (Canon gear, Kodak Royal Gold 200)

“A Few Haiku (32)”

On February 20, 2022 By Mike U.In Poetry35 Comments

(#187)

the forsaken vase
still stands where you left it
waiting for your flower

…..

(#188)

in the end
my heaven could not redeem
your hell

…..

(#189)

memories of you
litter the oak-shadowed grass
I tread carefully

…..

(#190)

coy spring tarries
just beyond my winter heart
how I yearn for her

…..

(#191)

strawberry spring
the false hope of redemption
as the storm draws nigh

…..

(#192)

my destitute mind
is as barren as my heart
all the words have gone

“Church Rock”

On February 18, 2022February 18, 2022 By Mike U.In Photography33 Comments

D49-1(S)–Church Rock, near Lisbon Valley, SE Utah
Church Rock is a unique sandstone formation located a few miles north of Monticello in southeast Utah. It’s a local icon of sorts, readily visible just off the highway. In 1998, I was commissioned by a local museum to photograph old barns in San Juan County, Utah, and Church Rock was on the list. In the 1940s, the land owner used dynamite to hollow-out a section at the base to use for storage for cattle feed. Visible in this image are the remnants of an old corral and a dilapidated windmill to show the scale of the rock formation, which rises 200 feet above the surrounding desert landscape. The weather the day this image was made was windy and the clouds were magnificent and added texture and contrast to the earthy tones of Church Rock. As for its name, the local myth is that in the 1930s a spiritualist and her small cult deemed San Juan County, Utah and Church Rock to be the spiritual center of the universe, and she ordered the complete hollowing-out of Church Rock to serve as her church. The 16’x24′ hollow section was thought to be proof of this but was proven false. (Canon gear, Fuji Velvia ISO 50)