On this Thursday morning of a long week, here’s a poem by the old hippie and Japanese scholar Gary Snyder. Hanging out in nature and having tea (minus the drugs) while everyone else goes to work? Sounds great.


by Gary Snyder

sun breaks over the eucalyptus
grove below the wet pasture,
water’s about hot,
I sit in the open window
& roll a smoke.

distant dogs bark, a pair of
cawing crows; the twang
of a pygmy nuthatch high in a pine—
from behind the cypress windrow
the mare moves up, grazing.
a soft continuous roar
comes out of the far valley
of the six-lane highway—thousands
and thousands of cars
driving men to work.