Top of the world, Ma.

A couple of weeks ago, Emeline and I spent the weekend on the west coast, in Fiordland. We already posted a blog entry about it. I'm posting a few more photos though, because the views were breathtaking and I thought you might like to see them.

We went on a four-hour hike to the top of Key Summit, such named because three of the south island's most important river systems begin there. My poor pregnant wife trudged slowly up the steep path, from tropical rain forest, up though rocks and pine, around switchbacks, steadily climbing, until finally we cleared the tops of the trees and the clouds, emerging at 1000-meters, on a windswept and cold alpine meadow, ringed by the huge formidable peaks of the southern Alps. Amazing views: clouds boiling and swirling over the ridge lines in the bright cold sunlight of altitude. Snow on the mountain tops.

The views reminded me of a poem by one of my favorite Beatniks, Gary Snyder, so I'll include it below. (ck)

Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout
Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat, after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir-cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.

I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.