Crows in the forest

 against rained-soaked sky

two crows swirl, land as one on

a fir's highest branch

#haiku while walking, and, no, you won't find crows in the photo

I had only a cell phone, no telephoto, so their lovely

duet, their synchronized landing remains a moment past

Beacon

 

on the old footbridge

a red leaf glows luring

the weary traveler

Haiku while walking

haiku in the mist

 I went mist-bathing

this December morning in

the still green graveyard

A little haiku while walking in the rain-not-rain.

after the storm

wind swirls fallen leaves

mountain peaks pierce the mist

after the storm

 

haiku thoughts on this November 6, 2020

haiku in 2020 time

crow in morning light
pecks a dead rat on a fence
while cities burn


The crows and I are becoming familiar these days. I give them peanuts occasionally, and they frequent the birdbath. I like to think there is mutual respect.

Meanwhile, my heart hurts for the damage human beings keep doing to each other and the planet.

So there is the haiku that framed itself in my mind this morning as I ventured out and retreated back.

more haiku for these times

I wonder how the

Earth will be after we take

our toys and go home

 

 

Thoughts on a rose-colored dawn when more and more people are dying.

haiku dawn

the rising sun glows

 beyond its orb, gilding roofs

 and long rows of trees

 

haiku dawn in the time of coronavirus

 

stay safe, look for beauty, flatten the curve, my friends

haiku in the time of coronavirus

Townsend warbler's
lemon-yellow mask brightens
the subdued grey day

haiku moment

evergreens whisper,

peach clouds await putti in

Tiepolo sky

end of day haiku

haiku while walking

cold wind from the north,
a leaf skittering along
my sole companion

haiku at dawn

this bruised-sky morning
brightening into painterly
streaks of rose and peach

Sometimes I think my haiku is a melding of how Nature affects my mood or vice versa.

I did not try to photograph the sunrise, because my phone camera never catches the real-time colors. I have to let my words capture some moments.

Snow day

sea of white, whirl of
snow-smoke, junco flung sideways--
picture-window scene

If you haven't guessed it's snowing in Seattle. Low temps in the 20s this week, which for here is cold. I'm enjoying the pretty and scribbling haiku.

haiku to an eclipse

pale opal hangs in
the sky caught between the stars
and towering pines

Haiku upon watching the Super Blood Wolf Moon Eclipse. I felt like I should dance or something.

The neighborhood kids decided to howl.

 The clouds kept their distance until after totality and then gently took back the night.

first haiku of 2019

January sky--
cotton-candy dawn follows
evening's pink-snow ridge

when morning inspires haiku

this winter morning
rose and pewter sky--soft wool
nestled below

ah, Spring

the birdbath turns
murky now that a crow has
washed his dinner

haiku October

those wraiths of fog rise
from the lake, fingers reaching
for the mountaintops

haiku at dawn looking toward Lake Washington and the Cascade range

haiku in green

the forest sets to
building its own fence, year to
year, log upon log

green as far as eyes
can see in the forest, layer
upon layer, breathing


There is a Japanese practice called forest bathing, which is not simply hiking but is a kind of being aware and at peace in nature. I think I've done it naturally for a long time without knowing there was such a practice. I relax in the woods. I inhale with purpose, look up with joy, reach out with wonder.

It is amazing how often I am renewed after a walk in a forest. Some people joke about tree-huggers, but I find a kind of awe and strength around trees. They live long and anchor in earth while reaching for sky and sun.

A gorgeous, windy day for exploration and words

wind whips across the
Sound, carrying deep-water
chill and flinging gulls

brrrrrr. Haiku while walking at low tide along Puget Sound

hints of spring haiku

a gathering of
juncos dethrones a plump robin
from the budding peach tree

pair of woodpeckers--
female and jaunty-capped male
share the suet feeder