1
I wake in the night, 
An old ache in the shoulder blades. 
I lie amazed under the trees 
That creak a little in the dark, 
The giant trees of the world.
I lie on earth the way 
Flames lie in the woodpile, 
Or as an imprint, in sperm or egg, of what is to be.  
I love the earth, and always 
In its darkness I am a stranger.

2
6 A.M. Water frozen again. Melted it and made tea. Ate a raw egg and the last 
orange. Refreshed by a long sleep. the trail practically indistinguishable under 8" 
of snow. 9:30 A.M. Snow up to my knees in places. Sweat begins freezing under
my shirt when I stop to rest. The woods are filled, anyway, with the windy noise of 
the first streams. 10:30 A.M. the sun at last. The snow starts to melt off the boughs 
at once, falling with little ticking sounds. Mist clouds are lying in the valleys. 
11:45 A.M. Slow, glittering breakers roll in on the beaches ten miles away, very 
blue and calm. 12 noon. An inexplicable sense of joy, as if some happy news had
been transmitted to me directly, by-passing the brain. 2 P.M. From the top of 
Gauldy I looked back into Hebo valley. Castle Rock sticks into a cloud. A cool 
breeze comes up from the valley, it is a fresh, earthly wind and tastes of snow and 
trees. It is not like those transcendental breezes that make the heart ache. It brings
happiness. 2:30 P.M. Lost the trail. A woodpecker watches me wade about through 
the snow trying to locate it. The sun has gone back of the trees. 3:10 P.M. Still 
hunting for the trail. Getting cold. From an elevation I have an open view to the 
SE, a world of timberless, white hills, rolling, weirdly wrinkled. Above them a pale 
half moon. 3:45 P.M. Going on by map and compass. A minute ago a deer fled
touching down every fifteen feet or so. 7:30 P.M. Made camp near the heart of 
Alder Creek. Trampled a bed into the snow and filled it with boughs. Concocted a 
little fire in the darkness. Ate pork and beans. A slug or two of whiskey burnt my 
throat. The night very clear. Very cold. That half moon is up there and a lot of stars 
have come out among the treetops. The fire has fallen to coals.

3
The coals go out, 
The last smoke wavers up  
Losing itself in the stars.  
This is my first night to lie  
In the uncreating dark.

In the human heart 
There sleeps a green worm 
That has spun the heart about itself,  
And that shall dream itself black wings  
One day to break free into the black sky.

I leave my eyes open, 
I lie here and forget our life, 
All I see is that we float out 
Into the emptiness, among the great stars,  
On this little vessel without lights.

I know that I love the day, 
The sun on the mountain, the Pacific  
Shiny and accomplishing itself in breakers,  
But I know I live half alive in the world,  
Half my life belongs to the wild darkness.