June--
clouds rest peacefully
atop Storm Mountain
June does seem far off. But it does seem peaceful. I am so yearning for peace right now. Just peace.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Weather beaten
Today it reached 79 degrees, and I was wearing a sweater. I baked in the afternoon sunlit window. I seethed and stared.
Weather-beaten heart
the wind must blow
right through my body
Not beaten down, but definitely weary. Suddenly weary of everything all at once. This year has been heavy. How do I make the final few steps while my legs are so unsteady?
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Thank you, spring!
Old pond
Frog leaps
Into the splash
A spring peeper?
Spring is definitely peeping.
Little moments like this get my mind of the bigger things. She sat there motionless until I made her swim away. We giggled at her frog legs doing the frog swim.
At a Middlesex Fells vernal pool- this one is the real deal- registered and everything. Just 15 minutes from my house, right near South Border Road.
Little frog, I will try to follow your example of patience and calm in the face of big looming shadows with scary pointy sticks. It will all be alright.
Finally, I have to share a little bit of the colors of the past few days, colors for which we've waited for so long...
Magnolias on School Street. From Thursday.
Strength and perseverance from the magnolia. Patience and calm from the frog. Thank you, spring!
Frog leaps
Into the splash
A spring peeper?
Spring is definitely peeping.
Little moments like this get my mind of the bigger things. She sat there motionless until I made her swim away. We giggled at her frog legs doing the frog swim.
At a Middlesex Fells vernal pool- this one is the real deal- registered and everything. Just 15 minutes from my house, right near South Border Road.
Little frog, I will try to follow your example of patience and calm in the face of big looming shadows with scary pointy sticks. It will all be alright.
Finally, I have to share a little bit of the colors of the past few days, colors for which we've waited for so long...
Magnolias on School Street. From Thursday.
Strength and perseverance from the magnolia. Patience and calm from the frog. Thank you, spring!
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
And breathing
Spring happens
so gradually
moon and plum
Today was a springlike day, but I missed it. I knew I was missing it, and still it passed me by. There is tomorrow though.
Going for a run.
And breathing.
so gradually
moon and plum
Today was a springlike day, but I missed it. I knew I was missing it, and still it passed me by. There is tomorrow though.
Going for a run.
And breathing.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Sadness
In the face of tragedy, it's hard to know what to do. Tearing my face away from the news reports. Quieting the imagination but at the same time thinking of those who are suffering. Horrified by the intrusion upon one of the most life-affirming, ecstatic, and community-driven days of the year in Boston.
When I heard the news, I was about to step out the door on an expedition to find vernal pools in Middlesex Fells to do research for a lesson plan. Those plans were derailed when Santosh came into the room and asked, "Have you heard about these explosions at the marathon?", about which his brother had alerted him by text. We flipped on the TV and then couldn't move for some time as we processed what was happening-- then turned to voracious texting, emailing, and facebooking to find updates of family and friends' whereabouts.
To keep up my new tradition, in some semblance of "carrying on", this haiku stuck out the most:
One insect
asleep on a leaf
can save your life
I'm off now in search of that life-saving insect. Or at least something similarly small that can take my mind away from sadness and again towards hope and wonder of the possibilities of life and love.
When I heard the news, I was about to step out the door on an expedition to find vernal pools in Middlesex Fells to do research for a lesson plan. Those plans were derailed when Santosh came into the room and asked, "Have you heard about these explosions at the marathon?", about which his brother had alerted him by text. We flipped on the TV and then couldn't move for some time as we processed what was happening-- then turned to voracious texting, emailing, and facebooking to find updates of family and friends' whereabouts.
To keep up my new tradition, in some semblance of "carrying on", this haiku stuck out the most:
One insect
asleep on a leaf
can save your life
I'm off now in search of that life-saving insect. Or at least something similarly small that can take my mind away from sadness and again towards hope and wonder of the possibilities of life and love.
Monday, April 15, 2013
A haiku a day
Last night Santosh and I walked from Union, through Inman, to Central and onto Harvard Square, the light of the waxing crescent moon sheltering us. At the Harvard Book Store, I opened a book of haikus by Basho, (Moon Woke Me Up Nine Times, translated by David Young) and this one caught my eye:
Today, tonight is
no time to be asleep--
moon viewing!
Though the pages are mostly white space, the words on each seem to fill the book to the brim. Needless to say, I bought the book, and now I am pledging myself to reading and choosing a haiku each day. Perhaps I'll even post one on this blog each day or so.
When we arrived back home that evening, the moon had traversed a quarter of the night sky, and now was glowing brilliantly and low in the West. It was a wonderful night for moon viewing.
Today, tonight is
no time to be asleep--
moon viewing!
Though the pages are mostly white space, the words on each seem to fill the book to the brim. Needless to say, I bought the book, and now I am pledging myself to reading and choosing a haiku each day. Perhaps I'll even post one on this blog each day or so.
When we arrived back home that evening, the moon had traversed a quarter of the night sky, and now was glowing brilliantly and low in the West. It was a wonderful night for moon viewing.
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