A haiku a day...

This week it seems I'm in the mood to write about the weather. Wet, thundery, stormy, cloudy, moody weather. Funny how a theme emerged in these syllabic snippets.... 

 

Friday

Sangria, flowers

a terrace chat in the heat,

As evening arrives.

Saturday

Finally thunder:

the drumming of a rainstorm

makes me want to dance.

Sunday

We poke our heads out

Kiss the raindrops, sniff zee fleurs,

Ridiculous rain.

Monday

Some moods can’t be fought,

embracing this dark cloud I

Leave my desk behind.

Tuesday

The river at dusk

cool, calm now before the storm,

(after the panic).

Wednesday

Cloud wisps kiss the hills

Grey sky, green horizon, me

watching the day fade.

Thursday

Waking up, the roof

is drumming sweet rhythms of 

a Devon rainstorm. 

x

A haiku a day...

Friday

Between showers we

climb up through the trees, onto

sunny spring moorland.

Saturday

Deer with a deathwish,

we swerve, he bounds away free,

into the morning.

Sunday

Breathing carefully

defeats all fears of flying,

inhale, exhale, float.

Monday

Pounding the pavements,

through puddles and relentless

pouring rain: perfect.

Tuesday

Blank page tyranny,

word documents multiply,

elusive progress.

Wednesday 

Playful gusts of wind

transform my skirt into a

billowy landscape.

Thursday

The first seedling peeks

its leaves up out of the soil:

fragile alchemy.

x

Happy little moments... watching the starlings murmur

Out of the window of my parents house in Devon, every evening in the magical betwixt hours when day sighs its last breath and night starts creeping in, a wonderful phenomena can be observed: the daily gathering of the starlings in the valley below. Did you know that a group of starlings is called a murmuration? It's one of those words that really captures the essence of the thing it describes. Every day, great swarms of them gather, and swoop around the valley in ever increasing numbers in a flurry of wings that swells and swirls, going this way and then that, like a secret rumour which is murmured, getting louder and louder until it cannot be ignored any longer. One evening, the sky turned a rather spectacular shade of lilacy pink and I took the chance to try out my new camera and capture some photos of those crazy wonderful birds.

Here they are when I first got snapping, bundled together, with dartmoor as their background...

Zooming in, the movements of their wings is captured in different states of flapping...

The sky got fuller and fuller of these birdy shapes, like scribbles on a page of purply parchment, each bird marking a secret message that only a madman can understand...

How do they all know to turn at the same moment? How do they all know where the next swooping movement will take them?

Here they are, turning the corner, face on, before they go round again, on their invisible carousel...

Perfect silhouttes, filling up the sky...

And right before I left them to it and got on with my evening inside...

Here's to a happy moment watching the starlings flock...
x

A haiku a day....

I'm still busy hibernating so I'll let the haikus do the talking...

Friday
It's still night time when
we awake, as I drift off,
you fly far away.

Saturday
Presentation's all,
Fold up the pretty paper,
Wrap it all in ribbons.

Sunday
It's Christmas once again,
A day like no other day,
Magic fills the air.

Monday
Mad starlings flock here,
as day meets it end they swoop
and circle like one.

Tuesday
Up above the clouds...
(Landscapes of condensation,
That make my ears pop).

Wednesday
Gale force winds ruffle
Feathers on the blue tit's head,
As he pecks his lunch.

Thursday
Twilight cloaks the world,
A deer peers out, silent, still,
Disguised as a tree.

x

A haiku a day...

We're deep in mid winter now, so it's high time for hibernating. I've swapped London's busy streets for quiet hills and forests deep in the Devon countryside. Days are spent sleeping late, reading Murakami's latest offering, IQ84 (it's a real page turner!) eating a lot, and walking off the food on long walks. Some new discoveries have been made including deer in the woods and a kingfisher flying past by the river. Here are these tales and more in haiku form...

Friday
Cold air fills my lungs,
Muddy puddles soak my feet.
Winter seeps inside.

Saturday
I blaze a path through
bustling crowds busy buying
Christmas bits and bobs.

Sunday
A nostalgic song,
a sepia coloured sky,
visions of the past.

Monday
Two deer bound away
on the strangely green carpet,
magic mossy scene.

Tuesday
Cobble stones, twinkling
lights, a little town bursting
with countryside charm.

Wednesday
Elusive vision,
a turquoise arrow darts past,
Shy kingfisher bird.

Thursday

A river so long,
flows over gnarly tree roots,
a fleeting meeting.

Season's greetings. May you have a very merry Christmas :)

x