hey, look—
a bear up in the tree
for real!
Bears can run as fast as a racehorse, uphill and down….and they climb trees, too, for real. https://pestpointers.com/can-bears-climb-trees-13-stunning-facts-about-bears/
416. bear sighting in Ambler!
415. on the path
ancient tree
no longer anxious to bloom—
becoming a buddha
*
ancient tree
are you still enjoying yourself,
my friend
413. making music 🎶
on and on
into worlds of wonder
making music
(Playing the guitar means never being alone with nothing to do—Johnny Marr)
412. pandemonium! 🤣
ducks spilling out
then right away scrambling
to get back in
411. brown is brown, and yet….
but the thing that caught my eye—
all those brown seeds
*
remembering
he had beautiful eyes,
and they were brown
(This is Thanksgiving Day, a time for remembering those we love and hold dear, near and far away.)
410. Issa’s haiku
the bedbugs
scatter as I clean,
parents and child
*
Issa’s haiku
two hundred years ago’
all about bedbugs
(Issa is highly regarded as one of the three or four great masters of Japanese haiku. He is widely loved for his poems, honoring either children or animals, by turns playful or poignant.)
What does this picture have to do with bedbugs? Nothing. I just like the picture! 🥳
409. time is just flying by
christmas lights up….waiting for
thanksgiving
(Five days ago, Christmas lights were already up on the street….and we haven’t even had Thanksgiving yet. No wonder it seems like time is just flying by.)
408. much much more….
in the company of trees
the sky does it’s thing
407. the truth is….
never too late
to live a creative life,
and not too old
In a culture that too often values logic over imagination, propriety over spontaneity, practicality over dreaming, creating your own style can feel risky, so we shut down. This brings to mind a poem: And the day came when remaining tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom—Anais Nin)
406. leaves of bamboo
leaves of bamboo
quavering and quivering—
autumn riff
*
leaves of bamboo
clambering up to the trail—
fantasizing bears
*
leaves of bamboo
take me away to the east….
carry me home
(Bamboo, native to China and the Far East, is plentiful in the Wissahickon Woods. Day after day hiking through the woods, the sights and sounds of bamboo always delight my heart, giving me pause to muse on this and that. I’m a lucky woman.)
BTW, the “bears” in my haiku are the Chinese panda bears, who survive mostly by eating 26 to 84 pounds of bamboo leaves every day!!
404. on the way to the woods
gazing down
thru the bare branches….the sky
shivering
(Crossing over the bridge slowing down….then I stop. Peering down into the blue water streaming through the creek, I think to myself, the water must be so cold. I shudder….then feel the shivering.)
403. always & forever
one day falling
then rising up again
the next day
(Day by day, the sky is always there and the sun always rises. Some things never change.)
402. wistful
who lives there
i wonder….that house
or this one
401. in love with color
every autumn
the sweet wissahickon woods
goes a little wild
400. joie de vivre
painted flowers
a room full of dreams come true
one by one
*
the sky never tires
of putting on a good show
neither does he!
*
never a dull moment with Dan!😜
(Soon after retiring 40+ years from a life of earning money for family and home, I asked him one day….what do you see yourself doing now with the rest of your life? “I want to make art,” was his quick reply. Day by day now, he is doing just that—building a life of making art: painting, sculpting, making mosaics, blogging in haiku and photos. Good for you, Dan, I celebrate your joy for living.)
399. say hello to Candy
some dogs are
big & bold, smart & strong—
candy is sweet!
(She was a rescue puppy from Hurricane Maria, the storm that rocked Puerto Rico. Candy, adopted by my bank teller, was one of my early animal portraits. She had mascara eyes!)
398. rainy day
rainy day,
looks like i’ll be staying in
all day
(Gray, rainy days always brings the thought of quiet solitude, staying inside cozying up to a good book, idling the day away. Somehow, though, I never seem to do just that. There’s always something to do and that’s ok. Just the thought, or even this picture, somehow satisfies.)
397. hanging high
teeth chattering
does the moon feel the chill?
i wonder…
(Walking home after dinner, I look up at the sky and stop at the moon. Too much ambient light, I tell myself, it won’t make a good picture. I take it anyway. Sometimes it’s better not to listen to my logic….just follow your gut and see what develops. I’m learning.)
396. mix & match
a dead smell
alive on the autumn trail….
picking up the pace
(This picture and poem do not go together, but I like them both and paired them to share the view. Besides, who wants to look at a picture of a dead smell! This poem is inspired by a recent experience hiking through the woods, while the picture was taken earlier in the woods. I love adventuring the woods in autumn.)
395. kokoro
landing on the landing,
arranged just so
*
how could i
not resist
painting them?
(Descending the stairs, I was stopped….and immediately thought to myself, how beautiful. Right away, I wanted to preserve that feeling in my heart.)
The Japanese language does not decide between the heart and the mind. Though different, they are understood together. After all, one does not just think or only feel. We think-feel or feel-think. This is the way we experience things. The Japanese word for this is kokoro. It means the heart of the matter, or heart-mind.
394. little missionaries
summer gone
leaves scatter everywhere
mushrooms bloom
(I don’t know why, but i like to think of mushrooms as little people, friendly emissaries, who appear in autumn to signal the ritual flow of the seasons of Life.)
393. old faithful
the cock
crowing at the gate….like he’s
still in charge
392. home on earth
autumn rain
hunkering down in the chill
even the mushrooms
(It’s good to go out in all kinds of weather. The look and feel of life comes alive from head to toe and all the way down to the bones. Engaging with life in this way makes me feel at home wherever I am and wherever I go. Earth is our home.)
391. for Claire
autumn night—
don’t think your life
didn’t matter
(I received word that my dear friend Claire was near her time here on the earth. Yesterday I visited her home and sat with my friend….held her hand and told her she was loved by many. Thank you, Claire, for being in my life.)
(This poem was written by Basho, who wrote this on the passing of a dear friend. Basho {1644-1694) now acknowledged as the father of modern haiku, is regarded as one of the world’s great lyric poets for his dedication to transforming the haiku form into a testament of human culture.)
390. taking it all in
no ambition, no goal
a dose full of autumn gold—
mine for the taking
389. standing tall
what does he think of me,
i wonder?
(Into the woods day after day, finding our place in the world. Where do we stand?)
388. gypsy girl
gypsy girl
unafraid to travel far,
makes her own way
*
dark-haired girl
in love with the songs of change,
dances her own tune
*
no need for a mask
in this make-believe world,
she is who she is
*
gypsy girl
in the middle of a lonely world—
she winks
387. northern lights
as the sun goes down
trees light up….all the way up
to the sky