Note: My husband requested a poem to go with his favorite photo of our dogs, The Scampers. The photo was taken in the spring of 2016, when they were four months old.
After a dry, breezy week and weekend with yard work and new leaves on the bushes, Monday finds us damp and misty, with light rain and snow from late this afternoon through Tuesday night. Welcome moisture after the dry grass and carrying water in a cup to pour around the emerging wildflower plants.
new leaves garbed in green unfold into warm sunlight despite rising winds
tomorrow night’s soon enough to doze under falling snow
The end of a long week. Last weekend and Monday, the first of March, I enjoyed my busy schedule. As I mentioned early last weekend, February is National Haiku Writing Month (nahaiwrimo), and I attended both the Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon haiku poetry readings via Zoom. Between the two sessions, I read seven haiku that I wrote during February 2021. I saw again several poets I know from the Science Fiction & Fantasy Poetry Association (SFPA, lifetime member). I think that I would like to meet online with them and others more often than I have in the past. While I do not feel equal to extensive involvement in organizations, anymore, the social interaction is something I believe I’m still up to.
On Monday evening, I enjoyed a celebration of Saint David’s Day held by Jo Walton and friends online that featured two sessions of musical performances and poetry readings by various participants. St. David is the Patron Saint of Wales. (My Owen ancestors left Wales to settle in upper New York, I think, in the mid-1600s.)
Since then, I have been relaxing. Catching up on sleep and solitude. Reading a lot and napping with the Scampers. The dogs enjoy curling up on the footrest of my recliner, but if I turn over too often, they get down from the chair and move under the footrest, and so I have to be careful, getting up.
The weather, here, has taken a turn toward the warm. The snow is rapidly melting, and the air quality has disimproved, again. Supposedly, it will clear up over the weekend. I should have grabbed one of my cotton face masks on my way back to my chair, Right now, Thaddeus has settled on my legs, again, and so I may just take another nap.
I look forward to the coming weekend for more than improved air quality. Tomorrow afternoon, there is a social hour on Zoom, again, with Liz Danforth and patrons from across the globe. And I look forward to meeting for worship, which I did not attend, last weekend, in favor of the NaHaiWriMo poetry readings. I do hope there such gatherings at the end of next February, also. Enjoyed it.
This past week, I have reread books by Steven Gould that I have not looked at for a long time. That is, I had no electronic editions: Exo and Impulse. Also, I am rereading the last two books in L.E. Modesitt Jr.’s Imager Portfolio series. Al bought a set of headphones for me for my computer, and so I went online to listen again to more recent works of Tokio Myers on his YouTube channel. Lovely stuff, but I find I must turn off the pulsing lights added to some of the pieces. Aside from classics, my husband’s musical tastes and mine don’t match up. With the headset, I can turn up the volume.
I have made more space on this website and hope to do more of my blogging here, again, rather than on the WordPress blog.
I’m happy that you’ve stopped in. I look forward to looking in on many of the other Weekend Coffee Share posts, this weekend.
Prompt: Write a kimo, an Israeli poetic form that tends to capture a moment (like a photograph in words), using three unrhymed lines with syllable count 10, 7, 6.
During September and October, I was taking a six-week photography workshop online from Andy Ilachinski via Shanti Arts. Didn’t get in much off-topic writing during that time. Quite absorbing.
I quietly observe the world around me through the eye of the camera, more often than not.
Taking It Easy
So far, we’ve found inspiration from our own experiences, images, words, and more. Today, let’s quietly observe the world around us and write about what we see.
the garden’s abuzz
bees hiding in the clover
just a fly in view