A haiku a day...

Friday
My street is transformed,
Not just a drib drab world now,
but a huge snowglobe.

Saturday
Before we leave here,
lets all dance together in
a happy drunk mob.

Sunday: pick your own ending, depending on how much you drink
Version i.
Old Rosie charms us,
her nectar is sweet, golden,
Rejuvenation.

Version ii.
Old Rosie charms us,
her nectar is sweet, golden,
Oh dear tomorrow!

Monday
Insomnia bites,
Infects me with a fever,
I burn for hours.

Tuesday
Ideas fly at me,
out of the pages, as if
they had read my mind.

Wednesday
Tiny tasks complete
and yet still so much to do,
exhausted again.

Thursday
My twitchy eyelid
has returned, it flutters like
a distressed caged bird.

x

A haiku a day...

I've been writing these little haikus every day for over 6 months now, which is quite hard to believe as I'm usually rubbish at sticking to things like this. I doubt that anybody else really enjoys reading them, but the weekly ritual of typing them and putting them on here has certainly helped me to keep on writing them. I love how they capture random little snippets of things, like the changing seasons, weird little observations I've had during my days, pretty flowers, frustrated moments, dreams, runs in the rain, snow, autumn etc. It's funny sometimes the way that inspiration strikes me and I think - ooh! that's definitely the subject of my haiku today! Maybe at the end of a year's worth I will print them all out in a little book and it will be one of the most concise and yet strangely evocative diaries I've ever kept. Anyway, here's this week's worth, served up this time with a healthy sprinkling of snow....

Friday
On this cold night we
shut out the world and sip wine,
convivially.

Saturday
Creaky snow footsteps
through a freshly coated world,
a blank page tonight.

Sunday
Confused birds singing
at street light reflections on
snow: a fake dawn glow.

Monday
Drip drop, melting snow,
the great thaw's started, perhaps
Aslan's on the move?

Tuesday
Treacherous pathway,
Snow sparkles a warning that
I'm running on ice.

Wednesday
A nun, a ginger
beard, school children, you and me,
huddled on the tube.

Thursday
I'll miss the way that
Distant trains sound strange at night,
like boiling kettles.

ps. If anybody is reading, I invite you to leave a haiku of your own in the comments :)

x

Squirrelling away...

Isn't it funny how sometimes animals look exactly like the way they do in picture books? Like this squirrel I spotted feasting on a nut clasped tight in both his paws (I want to say hands - just look at his tiny fingers)....

He squirrelled it away up the tree to eat it in the safety of the branches, tail wrapped around himself for warmth...

It must be nice to have such a fancy tail to keep yourself cosy with in the snow and to balance you out when you have to head back down the tree for another snack. It sure would be tough climbing headfirst into the snow without it!

I hope he has a good stash buried down beneath the snow to keep him full during this cold spell!
x

Birds flying high, you know how I feel...

On a walk to the park on a snowy Sunday I captured these images of black headed gulls flapping and flying about over the icy lake as somebody threw bread for them....

If you look closely at the picture below, you can see that the gull on the left of got lucky and caught a mini feast in his beak...

Against the white ice of the lake and the grey sky above, the gulls were practically camouflaged. Only their orange beaks and feet and the constant flapping motion of their wings made them stand out from the grey wintery scene behind them...

Looking at them on the screen a few hours later, the birds almost look as if they are hanging in the sky, suspended from tiny threads as their soft white bodies seem to defy gravity independently of their wings....

What strange little faces they have, when you spy them from a certain angle before they swoop in for bread, swerving out of the way of pigeons...

In these slightly blurry pictures of their soft feathery wings, you can sense the speed with which they flap about. Majestic movements in a sky heavy with cold gloom...

Twisting and turning, or hovering mid air, watching over snowy scenes of children throwing snowballs...

Before making their descent to the icy floor below...

Beautiful gulls, happy times.
x