ripples - haiku

 ripples on the Pond,

yet there is no breeze this eve

frogs wake from deep sleep

First rain of Spring

 

First rain of Spring falls

on earth now warmed,

releasing worms to wiggle

their way upwards.

Buds of flowering shrubs

have begun to appear,

slowly unfurling their colour

reaching for the sun.

Robins are nesting

creating a home with grasses

dangling, held with mud

soon to hold eggs.

Crocus, Scilla, and Daffies

are blooming, spattering

the garden with their pallet

of purple, blue and yellow.

Fragrance of maple syrup

boiling in the woods

makes one deeply inhale

savouring this yearly event.

Skies are filled with Geese

returning from their southern break

Finches, Blue Jays, Black Birds,

among so many fill the feeders.

Windows are opened,

just a tad, inviting fresh air into

a home once closed, while

quilts are aired on the line.

Spring has arrived

ever welcomed from Winter

when senses and colours

are dulled, now there is life.

There is a renewal...

gathering - haiku

 

gathering of sap

has ended in empty pails,

hanging on in case

spring buzz - haiku

 

scilla opens,

gentle buzz of honey bees

thrive on its nectar

I watched

 

I watched you entering the garden,

still stately, tall and handsome.

Your long brown locks

tumbled over the brown collar

of the tweed blazer worn

with pride in family tradition.

Your eyes met mine;

did I see recognition

of a long lost love

or did you smile as you

always did in social circles.

I watched as your wife led you

along garden paths, her hands

expressing her designs

while truth be told she was

just a gardener, and I was

the creator of our Eden.

Winter Aconite - haibun

 

frilly yellow blooms

appears through earth too early

Winter Aconite

This winter, as have the past five, has been such a mix of rain and snow with May temperatures. Geese and Robins have returned searching for food. Protective snow cover left the garden two weeks past under bright sunshine and 50F temperatures. If it isn’t replaced with 20, 30 inches of snow in the next week our gardens will burn. The earth will be parched and drought will be forecast for months. Farmers will suffer most of all. The same farmers who provide us with fruits and vegetables that sustain us. Yes kids, climate change is real. I feel for the next generations as Earth won’t heal in 30 years, nor 50. May the Heavens help us.

fog - haiku

sitting in darkness

I watch while street lamps glow fades,

surrounded with fog

one less dove

 

Early morning when I hear an odd noise

resounding from the garden.

Peering out a window it was evident

all creatures had disappeared, except one.

One lone dove huddled against a pergola beam,

its head turned my way with startled eyes.

Scanning the garden my eyes locked

on a hawk sitting atop the fence,

grasped in its talons a dove, the partner.

Hawk-eyes met mine as it spread its wings

and flew away with its meal swinging.

For three hours its partner sat and stared

at me through the window pleading help.

What could I do but give my condolences

and wash blood off the house wall.

Feeding protocol

 

There is a feeding protocol in the squirrel world. In the deep of winter there were eight to ten of the furry ground rats dropping by. To prevent squabbling amongst them I spread seeds in and around the main feeder. Voila! Fighting ceased as they each enjoyed their own pile of feed taking their time even though there was a line up. Finally, there was peace in the garden.

breath -haiku

 

morning sun rises

sparkling over the marshland,

my frosty breath smiles

Disagreement in the menu?

 

day fades while night rises,

snow softly falls upon the feeder

cloaking it with a white table cloth.

Mr. Cardinal arrives for his evening meal,

his brilliant red against the white of snow

is a site to behold in the wane of light.

this watcher sighs as he dines alone,

knowing his mate fed solo an hour ago,

perhaps a disagreement in the menu?

Storm brewing

 

storm is brewing

clouds heavy with snow

blows over the land.

neighbours are disguised

with draperies of snowflakes

so thick the road is invisible.

Winter is not over

nor will be for months

til then we hold fast.

mole holes - haiku

 

through open window

sounds of night creatures feeding,

mole holes in snowbank

Seasonal sadness

 

There is a task, with sadness, I have to complete in January and that is packing up the Christmas tree and its ornaments. I spent three days dressing the tree and two days removing each bespoke ornament safely wrapped and stored til next December.

I take my time, each loved ornament wrapped in tissue and stored in labelled boxes. Harlequins in one, crystals and antique balls in others, feathered and china birds, those lovingly created by friends in another, and so on. I do not enjoy this job as the glimmer disappears in my home as does the enjoyment of memories but it is time.

Slainte to this December when I unwrap my beloved beauties and smile in remembrance of dear friends, and the fun of finding that one special ornament, when I dress the tree once again.

warmth - haiku

 

huddled together

seeking warmth from dryer steam

doves on pergola 

protected - haiku

water laden snow

now frozen, encases the land,

garden protected

Visit

Early morning before sun rises

tsk tsk tsk sings from the bird feeder.

I open blinds and see Mr. Cardinal

pecking at left over seed, frozen,

but worthwhile to eat.

Soon after the lonesome Dove appears

followed by a lonesome black squirrel.

Two lonesome single creatures

rushing to the feeder before the families arrive.

All day long squirrels and dozens of birds

descend on seeds, cleaning the feeder

and piles left on the ground

leaving an almost clean plate.

As sun descends and night rises

Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal visit accompanied

by the lonesome Dove. They peck.

Those three keeping each other company

until they depart to their own nests.