Winter Light - Haiku

after the blizzard

sun beams create snow prizms,

beauty from the storm

north wind blows upon

branches laden with crystals,

music to my soul

light in the forest

filtered through undergrowth,

illumination

Winters loss

While this year winds up I'm making time to reflect on those loved plants that were lost this past spring. Winter was hard, ice storm after ice storm that created layers of ice, some as 8” thick. Unfortunately, the shallow rooted plants did not survive. Most of those were plants I had cherished for years.

It wasn't until late spring that I realized the loss of Turtleheads, a beloved plant rescused from a derelict heritage property decades ago; Meadow-rue, an etheral plant with blossoms so delicate in star formation; the Toad Lilies I adored for their orchid blooms in autumn when the garden was waning; and not the least, Lenten Roses. Each plant had succumbed to the ice.

The herbacious shrub Auria, while prolific, was a slug for water. In our dry summers, it did not perform well. I was disappointed but not surprised, though I did miss those lemon hued leaves amongst the deep green of ostrich ferns.

Next spring the plan is to lay seeping hoses as soon as the frost evaporates. Each and every grouping will be wrapped so the loss will be less. It will be easier to accomplish as I will have time. Lack of time this year when everything in my life suffered may be recorded in another posting.

I've composted and up-heeled the newbies in the garden; refused to wrap the confirerous as if they don't make it here in this climate they won't make it anywhere; long passed pots of mums lay in repreive among the yews; and green thumbs are crossed.

Nest on High - Haiku

a home built on high

soon became a nursery

summer remnants

Outage

A clear, crisp night

snow covering the ground,

when silence is shattered

as a boom rocks the home

and darkness falls swiftly.

Electronics case their on-mode

and a chill permeates

through out the house.

Candles are lit,

another layer of woolens donned,

hot chocolate brewed and I wait...

Odd the street lamps remain lit

giving off a ghostly glow

while darkness covers the hood.

I want to burrow in bed

wrapped in blankets

yet there are clocks to reset,

alarms too, and reading by LED

removes the pleasure

of easing into slumber

yet I sit and ponder by candlelight.

Choir in the Hood

After two days of monsoon rain

neighbours exited their homes

into brilliant sunshine and blue skies.

Soon after, those who sat out the rain,

staring out windows, watching the blizzard of leaves,

stood tall with one of the most annoying

contraptions ever invented...

the leaf blower.

Surrounded by the most gawd awful whirrr

I inserted ear plugs and grabbed a rake.

Humming, if only to drown out the noise ,

I wondered why? You rake, and pick up

those fallen so why not enjoy the zen.

After hours of listening my ears ache, my teeth ache.

And I'm two house away from the nearest Blower Baron.

I can't imagine what their heads feel like.

Perhaps I'll don my miners light and rake

under the moonlight in the still and quietness

of becoming one with autumns fallen.

Samhain - Haiku

Samhains passing with

revellery in autumns leaves,

silence surrounds stones

Ode to the Wind-chimes

Teak rondelle and hammered copper tubes,

well threaded together creating harmonia;

the chimes hang from the pergola

and over the Pond, ever ready

to sing its song during the seasons...

Sing me a song

this warm summer day

when your elements clash,

metal against wood,

foretelling storms arrival

Sing me a song

this chilly autumn eve

as frost kissed leaves fall

silently weaving a carpet

of forest colours

Sing me a song

this bitter winter night

when your chimes,

frozen dull and hard,

remind me of summer breezes

Sing me a song

this refreshing spring afternoon

with tubes warmed by the sun

and once more I savour

your music of life...

Brake lights

brake lights from the street

illuminate maples leaves,

ablaze in the dark

There is an otherworldly light

when autumn leaves are lit

by vehicle brake lights.

Their colour, even in darkness,

becomes stronger, more vivid,

more alive, even though

they know their demise is near;

hanging on by a thin stem

shivering until that fatal frost

when their own lights

are braked and extinguished.

Autumn Raindrops - Haiku

Autumn Leaves

the gardens summer bower

green leaves from maple, walnut and acacia,

growing into each others branches

have enveloped in autumns embraces

into a pattern of cut lace cloth

with body of umbres sunshine

their outline trimmed against the evening sky.

Autumn Arrives

last day of summer,

autumn crocuses in bloom

celebrate the change

Rescued from an abandoned garden

 these beauties spring forth late September.

  Someone who cared for them many years past

 now nurtures them in the present. 

Mr. El Grande Toadie

To celebrate what is left of July,  Mr EL Grande Toadie...

These creatures are predictors of weather.  If it's wet I'll never see one, but when it's hot and dry their presence is known.  Floating in the Pond during the day, and prowlling the garden at night.  This guy is obviously keeping the garden clean of bugs.  

paint me Montes garden

paint me Montes garden

with waterlilies of lilac hue

and I'll share my ferns

coloured fronds brush-stroked

mauve, grey green and stems of aubergine

with subtly he would have adored

Reflection - Haiku

after the rain ends

orbs float upon still water

springs last reflection 

forget-me-not

There are no forget-me-nots in the garden this year,

perhaps a sign of one who was loved beyond life

has now forgotten his love, after a wordless year.

May Day

May, tis such a succint

yet beautiful sounding word

rolling over the tongue

while we gaze upwards

in happiness of the blue skies;

while we gaze over the landscape

smothering in the greenery

as life breathes once again

on this spring May day. .

springs unfurling - haiku

winters skin begins

its shed under springs warm sun

fronds slowly unfurl

April was a difficult month with horrid cold and ice and snow.  It left me standing with face pressed upon the patio door sighing.  May has arrived, winning old mans winter prolonged battle to remain, and finally there is relief; a relief of life renewed. 

spring song

a quiet night

except

for the Rev. Al Green

reverberating

from speakers

front and back of home,

thumping out

rear windows

into the flooded garden,

tis that type of spring

as his joyous song

serenades me

while I unclog

the sump pump hose,

making the worse

a song of happiness

As long as we remember

fingers swollen

from typing responses

as the reunion draws near,

everyone needs an answer

yet while I respond

their replies are vacant

not reading my own

while I'm trying to resurrect

lives of the past,

whiling a way that thought

but doesn't every life

need to be validated

to declare their existence

whether they lay

in earth succumbing to

becoming compost

or their ashes tossed

to the winds,

no matter,

their souls survive

as long as we remember...

Spring arrives

Spring winds blow briskly

leaving remnants

of ice and snowflakes strewn

upon the frozen ground.

The thoughts of old man winter

still permanent our souls,

never wanting to leave

fearing his loss will be missed.

We now rejoice in his defeat,

those icebound for months,

now regale in a higher sun

thawing the earth.

Fare thee well old man

a winter of our discontent,

for brighter, more sun shiny

days are ahead of us.

Sun kisses - Haiku

rising sun's warm rays

draws moisture out of snowbanks,

springs vampire kiss

Dance in The Moonlight

A gentle, soft eve
flakes falling ever so slowly
dancing in moonlight
surrounding The Pond

The Pond, well worn
around one edge
from the paws of creatures
seeking respite of their thirst.

Thirst, for nourishment
in the dead landscape
of barren Winters’
frozen earth needing warmth.

Warmth, bundled and safe
from the bitter North wind
blowing unforgiving
causing life to seek shelter.

Shelter, peace with oneself
gazing out through frosted glass
while the snow flakes
dance in moonlight.

for Beth

My dearest Beth,

It has been a week since I was informed of your tragic passing. My heart still aches.  I will always cherish our friendship that began as kids and lasted these many decades. Through thick and thin we were there for each other.

The many missives over the years when you finally got e-mail. Even today I happened upon a site and thought O! Beth is going to.........then reality hit once again. I laugh when I think of your first texts. “Damnit Cheryl! Use capitals and proper punctuation! I'm old and can't understand a thing you typed!” Old me arse, you were ageless.

Our unplanned visits that turned into road trips that long outlasted my idea of a quick journey, well that was you. Keep driving and enjoy the journey. The artist studio tours we attended savouring and whispering critiques were special days. You thrived in their environment and I was envious of your creativity. I read the card you created for my special birthday and wept. To think of the hours you spent painting, writing, collaging that card just for me still touches my soul.

Our visits at your log home with your hubbie and own children. You always made everyone feel right at home. Why does the recollection of you arriving here with your daughter resplendent with her green hair come to mind. As I hhmmmed, you shrugged and laughed “kids today”. You raised your children right and I cry when I think your grand-daughter will never know what an awesome grannie you would have been.

The many hours we spent here at the Pond, discussing the garden and life. You always left with a trunk full of plants and later shared photos of them growing so well with your guidance. You certainly had a green thumb, make that two green thumbs for your own gardens were well known and admired by all who had the pleasure of enjoying them. I posted your most prized photo of your garden and the haiku I wrote for it. You smiled when I sent it back to you.

The endless discussions of fae and otherworldly creatures knowing we both believed. I dusted off Silas the gremlin you and Amber sculpted and gifted to me. It's in a place of honour in my home. Sharing shelf space with the mannnnnnnnnnnny frogs. I always laughed when opening a birthday gift as I knew it had to be a frog. Frogs balancing on lily pads, sitting in a yoga position, I got em all.

You always encouraged me to write and were so thrilled when I sent you my book of ponderings. Without your review 'cause mah grammer ain't always been great, it would have been a regretful project. The many press releases and letters you gleefully edited. And I will never forget you in cahoots with my brother to have Charles dedicate one of his books for me, well dear Beth, that holds a special place on my bookshelf. I've already begun re-reading it.

My quirks and eccentricities were understood by you and no other. Am I being selfish when I state there will never be another in my life who gets me the way you did. That fact causes me a greater sense of loss than no other loss of family or friends. It also scares me that I feel so alone. No one will ever take the place of you Beth. No. One.

I could write pages how grateful I am for having you in my life but you already knew that as does everyone who had the honour of knowing you. You leave a loving family and many, many friends realizing the loss of you in their lives. I grieve with them. While you will live on in our memories know they will never replace your presence.

To my sister of another mother, I miss your face...

With ever lasting love,

Cheryl