I love Sequoia National Park. We camped there several times, usually for a week at a time. That was in the old days when we could still get down on our hands and knees and crawl into a pup tent. The hardship was getting up and down. The pup tent was not a hardship. We had a three inch foam mattress that covered the entire floor of the tent. With a double sleeping bag we were cuddly and quite warm. The very large drawback and the actual reason we stopped camping at Sequoia (or anywhere else) was Barbara's allergies. She went to an allergist, who gave her the test, and when her whole arm turned white and hot he said, "You are allergic to every tree God made." So I composed this poem from her perspective. She disdains it as doggerel, but I think it is encapsulated truth.
I love to see these giant trees
If only for a day.
They aggravate my allergies
And so I cannot stay.
The storm brought heavy thunder
The rain came steady down.
The clouds of moist congestion
Brought pain and forced a frown.
For though the sun is shining
And skies are clear and blue,
The raging tumult in my head
Drones on without a clue.
Some day the clouds will dissipate.
Some day the rain will stop.
But now my nose precipitates.
My head swears it will pop.
Fresno is so flat and hot!
Who’d ever choose this place?
But wait, my sinuses unstop.
A painless smile now forms my face.
That world is worth a photograph
A periodic visit to revel,
But I was made to live and laugh
In cities at sea level.
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