fire lookout on top of the world
on-duty looking for smoke--off duty looking for smoke
it’s the quietness and remoteness of it I like
the wilderness-the silence
weather coming over the top of the mountain
aquamarine blue clouds bearing down
the old gray lookout man called that area the hellhole
said when dark clouds formed there
it was only a matter of time
you were in for a hellish experience
the old timer wasn’t kidding
rain pelts the windows like little pebbles
wind comes up tropical storm intense
tower rocks back and forth
I’m thinking this is it, it’s going over
but somehow it survives and I survive
just slightly more scary than the time
it’s like 2 am and something or someone
was banging on the base of the tower
yelling some unintelligible drunken mush
I wasn’t going down to see who or whom
it’s remote—I can’t imagine who was there
especially that time of night
they gave up and left
or a bear got him-if it did he deserved it
but I didn’t get any sleep the rest of that night
it takes a hardy soul for this kind of job
it has its perils of pauline
but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else
just look at those trees
