They call you blue. I say you are rather gray. The mood you put me in when standing at the edge of the pond to fish out the koi. Brilliant orange harpooned on the beak. They say a koi can live for fifty years.
Now I watch heron on the beach, the silly legs straggling along the sand, or the patient one roosting in the tree over the lagoon. There is a white heron on the lake today. Hard to forget the gray.
predator and prey
leave mark on gray windy sky
beauty in color
the oldest known koi was Hanako, who lived for 226 years
dVerse prompt for haibun in gray
The first white pelican I saw was in Florida. My husband and I were driving past a pond and there it was resting on the water. I shout white pelican, white pelican. (We were sometimes birders.). Go around the block. He won’t do it. He keeps going. There is only so much pain I can wear on my face. I kept it there for days.
Now in Texas he says – did I tell you there were white pelicans on the lake yesterday? White pelican, white pelican. We walk to the lake seeing them from a distance. We keep walking to the shore and there they are, about a hundred more.
find white pelican
migration flight in winter
wipes the pain away
There was a time I walked away from a disagreeable circumstance. I walked into a cold night, dressed for winter with boots on, leather jacket, long hair covered with a hat.
Not sure of the way home, I only knew that north would take me to the main road and then west would take me home. I walked miles under an unnamed moon.
I remember the crisp air, blue of the snow, ice crunching under my boots and how the light fell against the snowbound trees. I felt lost while finding my way home.
Blue freeze of winter
Beauty penetrates the night
Leads a path to home
Why is it so difficult to serve the cup of kindness or drink from it? The cup of cruelty still being offered up around the world as I sip my coffee and read The Post. Today’s headline of officials charged and the president fumes with frustration.
Now I want to measure my kindness in cups. A half cup of kind word. Three quarters of humility mixed with a cup of understanding. Maybe I can find a kinder way in a sometimes cruel world.
Be kind for the day
All resonants from within
Learn to give and take
dVerse prompt haibun on kindness
The sand on my feet, waves lap at the leg of my pants, the water sometimes warm, sometimes cold. I can walk for miles on the beach and always search for a shell or a rock or some mysterious shape.
The best beach walk is after an all night storm and in the morning there is
calm. If you find your way before dawn there are only a few people. You might be the first to find a sea bean that has travelled all the way from Costa Rica.
water moves on earth
uniting the continents
seeks its own border
Fields of corn and dust as the combine harvester chops down the whole plant, splices the kernel off the ear and spits out the cob leaving the golden harvest. The modern day thrashing has made the work fast with tons of corn in a day. Down the road the ethanol plant will purchase truck loads with jobs for the locals and help to the rural economy.
If the corn is not sold it will be stored in the silos and cribs or fed to pigs who are raised in confinements. Thousands of pigs confined to small pens where their pig shit falls into a pit to be used as fertilizer. Fallow are the fields that beckon the first frost. Fallow are the fields that glow with the first snow.
Winter hardened ground
Frozen against the sharp plow
After harvest time
dVerse prompt on haibun Monday and the first frost
Today I am not flying to Houston but rather I am going to Iowa, the place where I was born. The heartland, the grass plains now in field corn ready to harvest. A simple place where the elms have died out and the Fox have bought back a part of their land and run a casino. I am not flying thru Denver where the airport built on sacred land but rather thru Vegas, the hub of gambling and entertainment, the vision of an eccentric.
My hometown has changed. Where there use to be three grocery stores now there is one. There are still a number of bars that line one street and no shoe store anymore. I remember Buster Brown in the shop window and a number of dress shops. Now there is one. My sister and I walk all day reminiscing childhood, the town’s dramas and a dad who drank too much. There is already too much extravagance in the world. Time to keep it simple.
Seasons move so fast
We are caught in the middle
How to surrender
dVerse prompt haibun Monday and explain why you write the way you do