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| Totem Bight State Park |
A year
before my father, the poet William Stafford, died in 1993, two enterprising
Forest Rangers from the North Cascades in Washington State wrote and asked if
he would furnish some poems for a wild idea they had: Poetry Road Signs. “When
you pull off a mountain road,” one said, “it’s fine if a sign there says ‘The
valley before you was sculpted by ice ten thousand years ago.’ But what if,
instead, there was a poem that deepened the way you looked at the landscape? We
want you to write some for us, and we’ll find a way to get them
posted—permanently.”
before my father, the poet William Stafford, died in 1993, two enterprising
Forest Rangers from the North Cascades in Washington State wrote and asked if
he would furnish some poems for a wild idea they had: Poetry Road Signs. “When
you pull off a mountain road,” one said, “it’s fine if a sign there says ‘The
valley before you was sculpted by ice ten thousand years ago.’ But what if,
instead, there was a poem that deepened the way you looked at the landscape? We
want you to write some for us, and we’ll find a way to get them
posted—permanently.”
My father told me then he thought this
idea should take over the world. “There should be poems everywhere!” In the
end, he sent in thirty poems, and seven were chosen and have been mounted along
the North Cascades Highway, and down through the Methow Valley. At one spot I
remember, a natural history sign tells about the riparian zone, the work of
beaver, how they survive when the river freezes…while a companion sign has
William Stafford’s poem “Ask Me”:
idea should take over the world. “There should be poems everywhere!” In the
end, he sent in thirty poems, and seven were chosen and have been mounted along
the North Cascades Highway, and down through the Methow Valley. At one spot I
remember, a natural history sign tells about the riparian zone, the work of
beaver, how they survive when the river freezes…while a companion sign has
William Stafford’s poem “Ask Me”:
Sometime when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life….
A book is
a great place to read a poem—but what about out there, where the river speaks, and the evening chill flavors the
poem’s truth?
a great place to read a poem—but what about out there, where the river speaks, and the evening chill flavors the
poem’s truth?
Among the William Stafford poems not used
in the Methow project is one I have always loved. It’s so plain spoken, humble,
friendly:
in the Methow project is one I have always loved. It’s so plain spoken, humble,
friendly:
Emily, This Place, and You
by William Stafford
She
got out of the car here one day,
got out of the car here one day,
and
it was snowing a little. She could see
it was snowing a little. She could see
little
glimpses of those mountains, and away down
glimpses of those mountains, and away down
there
by the river the curtain of snow would
by the river the curtain of snow would
shift,
and those deep secret places looked
and those deep secret places looked
all
the more mysterious. It was quiet, you know.
the more mysterious. It was quiet, you know.
Her
life seemed quiet, too. There had been troubles,
life seemed quiet, too. There had been troubles,
sure—everyone
has some. But now, looking out there,
has some. But now, looking out there,
she
felt easy, at home in the world—maybe like
felt easy, at home in the world—maybe like
a
casual snowflake. And some people loved her.
casual snowflake. And some people loved her.
She
would remember that. And remember this place.
would remember that. And remember this place.
As
you will, wherever you go after this day,
you will, wherever you go after this day,
just
a stop by the road, and a glimpse of someone’s life,
a stop by the road, and a glimpse of someone’s life,
and
your own, too, how you can look out any time,
your own, too, how you can look out any time,
just
being part of things, getting used to being a person,
being part of things, getting used to being a person,
taking
it easy, you know.
it easy, you know.
I often
include this poem when I share my father’s work, for its conversational tone,
quiet compassion, and commitment to both earthly and human connections.
include this poem when I share my father’s work, for its conversational tone,
quiet compassion, and commitment to both earthly and human connections.
Many years after my father died, I got
involved in the Poems in Place project in Alaska, a collaboration that drew
together the Alaska State Parks, the Alaska Center for the Book, and other
partners to install place-based poems by Alaska writers at resonant sites where
wanderers might come upon them, and be “placed” by the harmonic witness of poem
and land. The project was partly
inspired by the Methow River project, but thoroughly Alaskan as well. As Oregon
friend to this Alaska project, I would hear news intermittently about the
selection process, and the events surrounding the installation of the signs.
Then came a message that electrified me: a poem by Alaska poet Emily Wall had
been chosen for the Totem Bight State Historical Park… and the title of her
poem was hauntingly reminiscent of my father’s poem, “Emily, This Place, and
You”: “This Forest, This Beach, You.”
involved in the Poems in Place project in Alaska, a collaboration that drew
together the Alaska State Parks, the Alaska Center for the Book, and other
partners to install place-based poems by Alaska writers at resonant sites where
wanderers might come upon them, and be “placed” by the harmonic witness of poem
and land. The project was partly
inspired by the Methow River project, but thoroughly Alaskan as well. As Oregon
friend to this Alaska project, I would hear news intermittently about the
selection process, and the events surrounding the installation of the signs.
Then came a message that electrified me: a poem by Alaska poet Emily Wall had
been chosen for the Totem Bight State Historical Park… and the title of her
poem was hauntingly reminiscent of my father’s poem, “Emily, This Place, and
You”: “This Forest, This Beach, You.”
I tracked down Emily, and she told me the
following story: As a young writer, she had contacted William Stafford and
asked if she might meet with him to talk about her writing. But when they got
together, they spoke of life, seeking, struggle. He was kind to her, she said,
and after he died she came across his poem about “Emily.” “Could that be about
me?”
following story: As a young writer, she had contacted William Stafford and
asked if she might meet with him to talk about her writing. But when they got
together, they spoke of life, seeking, struggle. He was kind to her, she said,
and after he died she came across his poem about “Emily.” “Could that be about
me?”
Years passed. She became more active as a
writer, more confident, and when she submitted her poem to the Poems in Place
project, it was chosen. This is what you will find by the water at Totem Bight
State Historical Park:
writer, more confident, and when she submitted her poem to the Poems in Place
project, it was chosen. This is what you will find by the water at Totem Bight
State Historical Park:
This Forest, This Beach, You
by Emily Wall
If
you were a cedar
you were a cedar
you would be waiting for rain to
fall
fall
or
fall harder, relaxing your ten thousand needles.
fall harder, relaxing your ten thousand needles.
If
you were a handful of moss
you were a handful of moss
you would be waiting for the light
so you could
so you could
climb
further up this rich, fallen log.
further up this rich, fallen log.
If
you were a blue mussel
you were a blue mussel
you would be waiting for the tide to
rise
rise
to
open your lips, to sip.
open your lips, to sip.
What
a world this is.
a world this is.
Close your eyes and inhale. Eat a little
of
this air. Let it fill your belly. Let the taste of this place
this air. Let it fill your belly. Let the taste of this place
always rest on your tongue.
I love so
many things about this story—an older writer helping a younger… the writing or
poetry helping the struggling life… the homage of a living poet to one who is
gone, even as she goes her own strong way… and especially the way a poem in
place can testify for our connections over time, in place, and to kindred
souls. Full circle, a writer’s vocation may reach far beyond the individual
life.
many things about this story—an older writer helping a younger… the writing or
poetry helping the struggling life… the homage of a living poet to one who is
gone, even as she goes her own strong way… and especially the way a poem in
place can testify for our connections over time, in place, and to kindred
souls. Full circle, a writer’s vocation may reach far beyond the individual
life.
From now until
April 1, 2015 the Poems in Place project is seeking poems for Fort Abercrombie
State Historical Park, Kodiak, and for Caines Head State Recreation Area,
Seward. For more information, to see
current poems in place, or to access rules and entry forms for this year’s Poem
in Place invitation, please see: http://www.alaskacenterforthebook.org/
April 1, 2015 the Poems in Place project is seeking poems for Fort Abercrombie
State Historical Park, Kodiak, and for Caines Head State Recreation Area,
Seward. For more information, to see
current poems in place, or to access rules and entry forms for this year’s Poem
in Place invitation, please see: http://www.alaskacenterforthebook.org/
Dear Kim, I just finished reading your father’s book, Even in Quiet Places, a beautiful book written by a beautiful man. When I read “Emily, This Place, and You,” I wanted to
know who Emily was, so I looked for an answer, and I stumbled upon this article. I was
blown away, and so moved by this story. How connected we are as a people. Thank you
for this. A fellow poet.