Two years ago in May we travelled to Toronto to see the High Park cherry blossoms, joining hundreds of others in a spring viewing. This May the blossoms may thrive in a more peaceful setting, in the wake of COVID19…only time will tell.
northern springs . . .
the scent of cherry blossoms
somewhere
.
Haikai Challenge #131, first cherry blossoms
©️2020 Ontheland
Lately I’ve found a new pastime that is almost addictive. With little snips of blunt-nosed scissors I have been trimming my dog’s hair, enjoying the satisfaction of a slow transformation while nurturing his trust and patience. I don’t have stranger privileges or the physical restraints of a professional groomer. I am one of his parents…each hair is taken with his consent.
under surveillance
falling with each snip
his fine hair
.
.
©️2020 Ontheland
February. Browsing the blog reader I read of snowdrops and daffodils….in other places. Here, the temperature plunges to 20 below and we adjust. By late winter we know well-rehearsed adjustments: we plan departures 10 minutes early to allow time to warmup the car, I toss extra comforters everywhere, and my old ski pants re-report for duty. The trampoline rhythm of hard to soft cold is almost routine.
A significant jolt will come when temperatures stay above 5 degrees and climb higher. Metabolisms, opportunities, and menus will change in ways we may have forgotten since last spring…
bone moon time
we wash blankets and brew tea
relaxing
to house drones and trickles
the avocado grows its first leaf
.
©️2020 Ontheland
February moon is sometimes called “Bone moon” due to bone-chilling cold.
What word is there for this…a sorrow for someone known only through their poems?
‘Poet loss’…the silencing of a flow, a voice, that inspires awe and delight.
Last January we lost Rachel Sutcliffe. This January, Martha Magenta.
.
stardust
forever
their poems
the ones not known
still in their hearts
.
.
©️2020 Ontheland
Martha Magenta’s blog: Martha Magenta — An Archive of my Published Poetry
a robin
flying from frozen boughs
winter plumage
alighting on the feeder
covered with snow
This morning scene reminds me to fill the seed bucket, put on my boots and wade out to top up the feeders.
Yesterday was Martin Luther King day in the United States. From Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge I learned that this holiday is designated as a day of service—a ‘day on’ rather than a ‘day off’, inspired by Doctor Reverend King Junior’s example and praise of community service: “He who is greatest among you shall be a servant.”
My first impulse was to dust off my dormant question “should I take on a volunteer job?” On reflection, my view of service, in general, and my own service, in particular, has deepened. Many of us, including myself, care for immediate and extended families. Yet there is another kind of service that extends into the community, outside our homes. ‘Out there’ are more people, trees, meadows, roadways, recycle bins, wildlife, wandering pets and so on. Without taking on a job there are many opportunities to act for the benefit of our world—to give, to protect, to show by our actions that we care about all humans and the world we depend on, whether natural or manmade. That sense of the collective is what I take away from this Martin Luther King day, an appreciation of what I already do and the humility to know that more is a possibility.
©️2020 Ontheland
Expanses of water surround the house in the fields below. It has been raining since yesterday. Most snow has washed away leaving only patches of ice that foreshadow the drama to come. Thanks to the science of meteorology, it won’t be a surprise when tonight the temperature starts to descend in measured steps to zero C…minus 1…minus 2…minus 3…minus 4…minus 6…minus 7…minus 8…landing at minus 9 on Monday morning. Freezing rain, snow, black ice, and power outages are on the way.
white mist
hovering over the field
the smell of thaw
.
.
©️2020 Ontheland
I drive by rigid trees cased with ice. I feel the weight on their limbs, the pending risk of breakage. There is no magic sparkle of sunlight to mask their imprisoned state. And on the News I hear of dark skies filled with smoke…Australia’s burning bush.
year end fire
the crack of falling branches
the weight of ice
.
.
©️2019 Ontheland
