Tag: Haiku
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Orchard Harvests
Recent nights are feeling more September than August, and even some of the days. Dry heat (trending cooler) during the daytime, and crisp-to-chilly at night. This bodes well for apples, pears, grapes,… And so my mind is in the orchard. Holistic orcharding has forged a gradual, intimate familiarity with my trees and with their habits.…
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Peaches This Year
Glorious indeed it is to report that our peaches this year are the tastiest I’ve ever grown. Also the biggest, juiciest, sweetest, and IMHO the prettiest. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! — Lewis Carroll I’m chortling in my joy. Imagine, if you dare, the decadence of lifting a sun warmed peach, freshly plucked from the branch,…
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Daybreak
Daybreak: Lake Champlain sunrise through “wavy glass” in late August, summertime slipping through the hourglass. (Source: Geo Davis) Since my earliest Rosslyn intrigue, wondering if the house and property might one day become a home for us, daybreak was my fixation. Perhaps it was just my lifelong affinity for the early hours. As a “morning lark”…
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Horse Stall Haiku
Horse Stall Haiku Carriage house stall door,pockmarked, patinated, but hale,relates tenants past. — Geo Davis Wabi-sabi Horse Stall Patina. Rust. Wear-and-tear. The horse stall door in the photograph above abounds in visible reminders of imperfection and impermanence. And yet beauty brims. The image, indeed the horse stall and the horse stall door themselves, exude warmth and…
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Daydream Retrieving
Sleeping Dog Haiku Lie, sleeping dog, lie,postprandial, snooze-barking,daydream retrieving. — Geo Davis When the hurly-burly and the kaleidoscopic cascade of commitments collapse into one another (and seeing through the turmoil requires a periscope) life hands us little reminders to catch our…
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Icehouse Haiku
Recent months have been busy with rebuilding and advancing plans for further rebuilding. Soon I’ll share an update on our summer 2022 deck rebuild, and I promise that it’ll be worth the wait. Until then, I’ll tease out another potential rebuild on the horizon. But first, by way of introduction, I offer you an icehouse…
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Raccoon Skull Haiku
Plain as cuspid skull,winter’s lumbering bandit,furred, furtive, no more. Sometime poems, even haiku, compose themselves. Or nearly so. When I reached out to ask if anyone recognized the skull that appeared mysteriously behind the carriage barn recently, I received several helpful responses. Joel (@mountain_man_fur) and Heather (@evergreen_lakeside_living) were the most prompt and the most decisive.…
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Hollow Tree Haiku
Sometimes — this time, for example — it’s worth relearning old lessons. Or reaffirming old lessons that are still relevant. And while a rotten tree trunk might, at first, seem an unlikely teacher, let’s postpone a moment our dismissal. Hollow Tree Haiku Attractive, healthyexteriors may beliespoiled interiors. This past year or two has been an…
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Apple Still Life
Sometime seven apples, five ripe edibles and two depicted in watercolor, are perfection. Rosslyn’s curious combination of real fruit and facsimiles (the latter painted by a dear friend, Amy Guglielmo, nearly two decades ago) are subtly playful. A self reflective still life, if you will. A juxtaposition of food and art. I’ll admit that a…
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Power of Pause
When looking insideand searching within,wondering inward,wandering wayward,try to rememberthe power of pause.Dwell for a momentor maybe a dayin the intervalbetween familiarand mysterious,the intersticespotently perfumed,possibilitiespollinating,fierce fecundityflowering, fruiting. — Geo Davis The Power of Pause? This small poem might not be complete. Close. But possibly still evolving. Likely. Born of the lily macro, a habitual perspective for…
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Garden Hose Haiku
A coiled garden hose,a verdigris copper pot,sunset puddling… — Geo Davis Some moments are captured best with wordy reflection, others with a watercolor. Sometimes a it takes a photograph or a lyric ode. But best of all is an instant, a glance, a gasp… The briefest of moments. The ellipses suggesting an interstitial moment. This…
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Essex Day
We returned home from a heat-indexed 102° Essex Day for a languid lunch — quiche and garden-to-table Caprese salad (with aromatic purple basil) followed by watermelon — under the shady American Linden. A subtle breeze freshened just enough to wick the perspiration from our necks, and for a moment, it was perfection. Sated. Shaded. Contemplating…