100 Years, 1 Month and 1 Day in this World, and Now Dancing with the Daffodils
A remembrance and a haiku for the intrepid little lady we lost, Ruth Violet Hiatt Holt.
A remembrance and a haiku for the intrepid little lady we lost, Ruth Violet Hiatt Holt.
As much as holidays are a time for celebration, they also bring reminders of the past, joyful days with lost loved ones.
The backstory for this (hopefully) enigmatic haiku is a tale of a search through my photo library.
There are so many unknowns these days. But seeds of change are being sown, and autumn can bring a welcome respite.
A haiku inspired by mourning doves in the early morning at Gumbo Cove … were they sentries? Signposts? They seemed like they were anxiously awaiting something. Like us.
A discarded coronavirus mask littering the parking lot. The song, Road to Nowhere. A haiku.
Cicadas and air conditioners are the soundtrack of warm summer evenings as the indigo sky darkens on another day.
What does it really look like when we get down the road? It’s up to us, isn’t it? This is no time to blink.
Everything needs a foundation; you can’t just jump into something without laying the groundwork and expect it to work.
Just around the corner from crowded Covent Garden in London, I found an unexpected peaceful haven, a magical courtyard. I had entered another dimension, Harry Potter-style.
The sky over South Park Valley demands a haiku today, the first day of NaHaiWriMo 2020.
On a solo visit to the wonderful Museum of Edinburgh, I spent some time in the courtyard and caught these pigeons courting.
I’d like to get better at being in the moment, truly living, absorbing, feeling, whatever it is that I’m doing. Being more mindful, overall.
It’s time to transition from the frenzy of getting everything done to the fullness of seasonal reflections.
Reinforcing my benign neglect this year, the greenery of Glover Gardens has gifted us with unexpected late-November blooms.
A gorgeous, fiery sun merging with the horizon while it generously backlit the clouds and turned the evening sky into a work of art deserving of a haiku.