Charm and beauty

The scientists at the 

large hadron collider

in Switzerland now say

that without the decay

of the subatomic particles,

called beauty quarks,

matter might not exist.

Beauty is one of the flavors

of those elemental particles

known as quarks.

The universe is built of tiny stuff

with flavors named beauty

and charm. And another flavor

known as strangeness.

It’s too complicated

for me to understand completely,

but the notion is appealing.

Charm and beauty. And strangeness

I read about the weight

of storm clouds that

was enumerated

in the weight of the

equivalent number

of elephants.

A typical fluffy cumulous cloud

weighs as much

as a hundred elephants.

A storm cloud weighs

as much as thousands.

Watching the clouds over

Lake Tahoe last week,

I imagined them as herds

of elephants

walking across the sky.

The mountain whitethorn

was in massive bloom,

each tiny blossom emitting

it’s tiny nearly imperceptible scent.

But magnified, and multiplied

in it’s multitudes,

the air was filled with a delicate

sweetness.

The universe is made

of charm and beauty.

And strangeness.

Rachel, Nevada

 

I’ve seen one, a flying saucer.
Abandoned, no one around.

It was hanging off the hook

of a tow truck in Rachel, Nevada.

Population 70.

Which just so happens to be

at the edge of Area 51,

the so-called Nevada Test Site.

The town was founded

by Union Carbide,

supposedly to house

miners working at the

tungsten mine east of town.

But they closed up operations

years ago.

I saw a lot of mobile homes

sitting on cinder blocks,

some trucks parked under

scruffy cottonwoods.

Every mobile home

had a satellite dish.

Didn’t see a dog

or cat or a single soul.

Not outside. There was

a lady working in the little

gift shop, bar and grill.

They have various alien

and UFO-themed souvenirs.

Like little green pointy-headed

alien salt and pepper shakers.

There’s an alien burger

on the menu, I didn’t ask

where the meat came from,

but probably from the same

supplier as McDonalds,

Burger King or Wendy’s.

Visitors

There was a chicken wire cage
with teddy bears hooked onto the wires.

Like the prizes at a carnival booth.

Some things were crawling

on the teddy bears.

Tarantulas....Dozens.

I woke up, slowed my breath,

and looked at the clock.

Two twenty two.

I did not fall back easily into sleep.

I cast my vision back to Zion,

the flowers blooming

on the canyon walls

where the water weeps.

Where all the hikers pause

for a moment on their way

to wade the Narrows

of the Virgin River.

Hundreds of them.

With their rented wading shoes

and tall hiking sticks.

So much love and wonder

for this place. My lover’s sister

told us that God spends

a lot of time in Zion.

It has that kind of blessing,

the sculpted stone and cool water

that the cottonwoods eagerly sip.

A place of inspiration that

desert prophets would admire.

As do we in our millions

visiting each year, loving and gazing,

best not to touch too much,

lest our sacred places

end like Lennie’s mouse.

I slept until the dawn grayed

the sky and when I rose

I remembered the spiders

and the teddy bears,

and the yellow columbine

where the canyon weeps.