LOG SCULPTURE AT POINT ROBERTS

LOG SCULPTURE AT POINT ROBERTS

Once regal trees,
Now sodden bodies,
Rudderless they sailed
Drifting on placid Pacific tides,
Then propelled by storming seas
To this deposit high on shore
To lie a tangled twist of wood,
Each log a wooden story.
Dry and bleached in view of Baker.
Cradled in sand they watch the sun
As it rises, passes, sets.
Soft to touch, to climb and sit on
They call the child and hiker to their joy,
And sometimes the artist to paint on canvas
Their complexity as a sculpture
A natural work of art.

© Ron Unruh
Back Story: We make annual cross border visits to Point Roberts, a small seaside peninsula. Inviting paintable scenes are everywhere. 16x20” oil

TREES ARE FOR CLIMBING

Photograph: Tim Laman/Getty images

I was a boy when trees were tall
and I could climb with ease.
High in the limbs though I was small
At home in tops of trees.

This space did not require a friend
Was not a place to share,
How to climb up or to descend,
Only to say beware.

Up there were stories of my mind,
A novelist was I.
I the hero, the dazzling kind
With empires in the sky.

All stories end and so did mine,
Not wasted time at all,
A bold step to maturity,
When childhood trees were tall.

© Ron Unruh, November 14, 2014

See kids need the adventure of risky play.