Category Archives: Travel

July 6, 2025 · 4:33 pm

This Land

This land, emblematic of her multitudinous and flawed inhabitants
Consists of varied features with their own perplexing presentations.

Vast arid plains which alternate from winter’s frigid to summer’s sultry grip.
Mountain ranges of different heights and temperaments.
Great Lakes with deeply cavernous plummets.
Rushing rivers that carry away precipitation toward
Oceans of endless water, wind and strength.

From the swamps of Florida and the bayou,
To the wheatfields of the Palouse and breadbasket that is the Midwest,
America is a geography diversified.

Like the people who have populated her, migrating from various other places.
These people, taking over that which was not theirs, have often
Convinced themselves they can reject others who were here first, or those who would follow later.

The curvature and evolution of this land is ever changing
Like a great dune that is wind swept this way then that.
From Kitty Hawk and the Outer Banks to the shores of Lake Michigan and the
Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado.
This, but one example of change the land both knows, endures and welcomes.

Consider too, though on a longer timeline, the change of canyons and landscapes
Where rivers have been ceaselessly carving, time standing as witness.
Or animal species who once roamed in mass, only to face near extinction,
Sometimes reintroduced. Change and the land have gone hand in hand.

A reminder, during what is a fragile period, that this land oft withstood when it seemed she might not. Withstood weather, economic challenge, civil war, political division and corrupt leaders.
Withstood to stand another day, waiting in hope as for a new dawn.

Far from perfect yet persevering, the homeland seeks to host those who know it and those who would.
An oasis, but sometimes a desert, she can be fickle.
She calls for fortitude from those who would prove up homesteads and speak for justice.

Dream? Yes, dream.  To be a place where children of all skin color, language and creed stand hand in hand to voice a song, pray a prayer, or learn a lesson.
Dream? Yes, dream. To be a place that favors not just those who measure wealth by mammon, but those who know richness comes in many denominations.
Dream? Yes, dream.  Be a dreamer just like those who first came to these shores, and
Those who still yearn to here dwell and be free.    

Dream, and then sing, taking up the prayerful lyrics of ancestors to not give up on the: 

“Land where (our) fathers died” but “from every mountain side”
Let freedom ring!
“No more shall tryants here with haughty steps appear”
But “let mortal tongues awake” and “let all that breathe partake”
“Long may our land be bright, with freedom’s holy light.
Protect us by Thy might, Great God, our king.”

© Daniel M. Cash 2025

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March 22, 2025 · 10:35 am

The Beachcomber

A steady gait, head down, eyes focused
Full visor, tinted glasses, bare feet.

Oblivious to scantly clad coeds
Lying prostrate in their solar worship,

She pursues her craft with single-minded purpose.
Examining the deposits on surf and sand.

Scallop, limpet, jingle, olive, whelk
Conch (if lucky), sand dollar, tooth of shark.

Collections made and discoveries counted,
Many blemished or broken, others whole.

She moves with no regard for volleyball games
Or boogie board, determined to scan the sand.

Early morning, mid-day, at sunset
The work carries on, as if by calling.

One who appreciates the artifacts of ocean gifts –
She is the beachcomber.

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July 17, 2024 · 9:54 am

Come Sail Away

I imagine those who once sailed these waters off the coast of southeast Alaska, as I watch and photograph a cruise ship sailing ahead of our own into the distance and space of an evening horizon.

These were the lands and waters of the Tlingit (pronounced Klin-git) people long before they were home to Celebrity, Princess, Royal Caribbean, or Holland America lines. Other indigenous groups that called these waters, fjords, islands and sounds home included the Haida, Tsimshian and Eyak. Equally skilled with paddle and bow, they hunted and fished these places where now tourists by the thousands pull out cell phones and cameras to capture something native.

Could the native peoples, first nations as known in Canada, have imagined such huge floating vessels equipped with galleys, staterooms, casinos, bars and fine dining spaces? Could they conceive of the extravagance docking on shores of their homelands, passengers spilling forth to explore, shop, and go on excursions into the wild? Could they have fathomed the pallets of groceries even one such floating buffet might consume? The expanse in time and culture from these extremely different eras seems vast. Yet, here in common space these very different times and people collide. Alaska – the great land – has a history of human diversity that just keeps on diversifying.

In preparation for our cruise and my own exposure to Alaska I did some reading. James Michener’s Alaska was one volume, along with John McPhee’s “Coming into the Country”. Robert Service’s collected poems was a late edition recommended by a friend. I also revisited Jack London’s “White Fang” and “The Call of the Wild” for good measure. The cumulative appreciation of such reading was the many cultures and peoples who had once called the land home. From the historic travelers of Asia’s land bridge, to the Aleutians, Athabaskans and Eskimos, this great land has known settlers of many stripes. The Russians, British and Americans would all lay some claim to this frontier. Evidence is seen in the settlements yet today. Names like Sitka, Ketchikan, and Juneau bespeak the influence of people from outside.

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October 13, 2023 · 4:30 pm

Rocky Mountain High

When I was about 15 years old I got an acoustic guitar for Christmas. Using a John Denver song book I taught myself to play some basic chords (G,C,D) and commenced my season of life as a troubadour of folk music – ala JD. This was also my song writing chapter of life, which lasted about four to five years and mostly revolved around aspirations to live in the Rocky Mountains. I figured if it was good enough for John, it would be good for me.

In fairness, it wasn’t the folk music alone that drew me west. There had been a couple of family vacations where I was exposed to the American west and the Rockies in particular. Perhaps the best such vacation occurred one year when, due to some mechanical vehicular concerns, our plans changed and we spent an entire week in Rocky Mountain National Park. I loved it! We camped, hiked, picnicked, hiked, went to campfire ranger talks, hiked and just enjoyed the beauty of that place.

A couple of years later, as I graduated high school, I pitched taking a summer job in RMNP to my parents. That idea went nowhere, but it illustrated the magnetism the mountains held for me. Years later my family would know a closer proximity to mountains as we lived for a brief time in the Pacific Northwest. One of the true blessings of that time was a view out my office window, on a clear day, that featured Mt. Rainier in the distance. Indeed the view scape of the Cascade Range, mirrored to the west by the Olympic range is hard to beat.

Several family vacations have taken us back west, and back to RMNP, including just this past week. We have a son and daughter-in-law who now make their home in Denver (maybe it’s in the genes?) and enjoy the beauty and adventure the Colorado outdoors has to offer. It’s always good to reconnect with them, and the landscapes they love, and to be able to see and hear about life in the mountain west through their experiences.

Psalm 121:1-2 says, I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and the earth.

This psalm has long been a favorite and captures my image of God as Creator. Oceans are great, and have their vast beauty, but for me it’s mountains that speak to God’s grand design. They stand as vast sentinels pointing upward, bearing witness to the One who called them forth. Time in the mountains, for me, is soul settling. It offers a reset, causing one to consider the finitude of one’s life in contrast to the magnitude of God’s grandeur.

Here’s how my 15 or 16 year old self once wrote & sang about these things: I dream of the mountains, the life that I long for; my quest for the freedom to climb to the sky. They tower above me in beauty and splendor, their greatness and stillness I see with my eye.
Yes God made the mountains and forest below them, the lakes and the streams that are part of the sights. So when I am in them, I’ll give God the glory and thanks for the wonder and majestic heights.

For the mountains are God’s work, the display of the Artist, they are part of creation reaching up to the sky. And since God made the mountains, in all of their beauty, who can picture the heavens we’ll see when we die?

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June 6, 2022 · 3:51 pm

Mirage Meanderings

According to Merriam-Webster a “mirage” is “an optical effect that is sometimes seen at sea, in the desert, or over hot pavement.” It may have the appearance of a pool of water, but it is an illusory or unattainable reality. It also happens to be the name Mitsubishi gave its compact hatchback – an economy car if ever one was made – which I recently drove on vacation over 1500 miles in the great American West.

Our trip took us from Denver, Colorado to Phoenix, Arizona along a circuitous route that passed through Alamosa, CO; Moab, UT; Williams, Flagstaff and Sedona AZ. Along the way we hiked, explored and photographed five national parks, a national monument, a couple of tourist traps, two of America’s metropolitan centers, and some state and local municipal parks. We spent time with family & friends and had plenty of windshield time to reflect.

As I coaxed the aforementioned Mirage up and over mountain passes, through valleys, forests and deserts, even managing once or twice to pass slower traffic; I kept coming back to the irony of its name in connection with it’s performance. While it had the “illusory” appearance of a car, you had to make an appointment with the accelerator to get up to speed. Long term comfort was “unattainable” given they way it hugged the pavement, revealing each and every crack, crevasse, seal, bump, alteration and pothole. Loading luggage was equivalent to working a jigsaw puzzle, as it only fit in one particular configuration. There was plenty of time for thinking with road noise making conversation challenging. And more than once we had a hard time locating where we had parked the thing, given it’s knack for disappearing between larger vehicles.

Please do not get me wrong. This first world problem of transportation did not inhibit our trip or in any lasting way make us suffer. We made all our planned connections, saw the destinations we had counted on, and rediscovered the beauty and wonder of our nation. It was a wonderful vacation on which the Mirage became something we laughed about. Sometimes it even surprised us, proving advantageous when it came to parking in crowded lots and prompting a smile at the gas pump.

In today’s hectic and turbulent world, a vacation can be as illusory or unattainable for some as a mirage. Our ten plus days in the West and Southwest afforded a disengagement from the news as well as the responsibilities of daily life. I disciplined myself not to check work email, to mostly stay away from news sources, and shun social media. Still, the harsh and horrid scenes of the war in Ukraine, and mass shooting in Uvalde came forth. When, if ever, might those individuals find days of extended leisure, travel, or disengagement from life’s hard truths? Such dreams must seem a mirage.

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