Haiku: A Frore Shore

The unseasonably frigid weather has presented great opportunities to observe and capture photos of uniquely brumal scenes like this one. The scintillating crystals of ice seem like living creatures, growing, even suggesting movement when out of the viewer’s direct line of sight. Who could tire of such natural and pristine beauty? And what other substance could make mud look this good? 😉

Haiku: Into The Ether

I’d hazard a guess that most farmers don’t spend too much time looking up at the sky and daydreaming – for obvious reasons: you look up and step into a hole or slip and end up covered in mud. Nobody wants that, and injuries aren’t funny when you have buckets to lift, you need to crouch and stoop, and there isn’t a “backup” to do the work for you. When I saw this morning sky, though, I had to stop pulling my cart loaded with feed buckets and rubber bowls – just for a moment – and take it in.

The soft, puffy-looking “dunes” invited pondering what lay beyond them: the ether. There was blue sky up there, and it peeked out from the cloud cover. I couldn’t help but wonder if, when sleep came, I could float up there, passing through the spun-cotton threshold into what’s above. Maybe I’ll find out.

What feelings or imaginings does this sky(ku) evoke in you?

Haiku: Existentialist’s Journey

Today is a particularly good day for introspection and quiet pondering. With the change from summer to fall (winter?), the multicolored leaves upon the ground and the bright but strangely soft quality of light this season brings, it encourages those “deep thoughts” and re-examining the “whys”.

I’m working on accepting: it seems that most of my life, I’ve railed against the admonition that I must just accept things with which I (often vehemently) disagreed. Now – arguably with the benefit of age influencing perspective – I do see that it would be prudent to practice acceptance under certain circumstances, like death. Despite my reflexive need to research, analyze, and solve every mystery, sometimes it just isn’t going to happen. I can work on accepting that – but I am still going to try to make sense of the universe in my own way.

May stodgy and non-productive approaches give way to fresh perspectives and renewed inspiration for you, too, in this transitional season.

Haiku: Echoes Of Equines

I’ve lived in homes in two different states where when I first moved in, I had views of a verdant pasture with beautiful horses. At each, however, the horses disappeared within a couple of years, the properties sold for “development”. Sad, the price of development; sadder still is what happens to the properties that were once so green and humming with life.

Though they weren’t mine and I never actually met them, I miss seeing the horses. I remember the mare that used to live in the former pasture above, running with her white mane flying. I think her name was “Ellie” – a name shared by my Muscovy drake, and when I’d call for him, she’d come galloping. It must have been a bit confusing to her – why was I always calling her name? She may not be there anymore, but she gallops still in my mind’s eye.

Photo: Pixabay

As green spaces are eaten up by “development”, I wonder where all the wild creatures that used to call those places home will go. Where can they go?