416. bear sighting in Ambler!

hey, look—
a bear up in the tree
for real!




(Now that is a picture I said to myself….so I drove around the block again just to take it.  Just goes to show you, you never know what you’ll find in the neighborhood. Good thing this bear was just hanging!)

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/





 

415. on the path


ancient tree
no longer anxious to bloom—
becoming a buddha
*
ancient tree
are you still enjoying yourself,
my friend





(At the end of the day I sometimes ask myself:  What surprised you today?  What made you laugh today?  What did you discover?  And what did you enjoy?)





 

414. morning drill

ten-hut!!
and all the butternut squash
stand up!!😁

 




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 



(This was one of the funniest Facebook videos. The sites and sounds of a gabbling gaggle of ducks clamoring to get outside—quack quacky quacky quack quacky—and then immediately turning around blustering back in—quacky quacky quack quacky quacky—it must have been super cold! 🥶)








411. brown is brown, and yet….


pretty leaves,
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


so early
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….


outside the city
in the company of trees
the sky does it’s thing



(On the way to visit friends who live out in the country, there is much much more sky to see. My camera gets so excited!  Makes me think about writing a haiku-photo book about the sky.  I’d call it High on Sky!)








407. the truth is….

never too late
 to live a creative life,
and not too old




(The truth is, also, that you need not be a professional actor, artist, singer, dancer. We all have creative ability.  Just move to your own rhythms, follow your inner promptings, do things your own way as you grow a garden, prepare your meals, decorate your home, dress or adorn your body, sing your own song. These are creative acts.  
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!!




405. 5 o’clock rush hour


day slowing down 
moon creeping up and up
the train rushing by


 



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



(Picture of a picture.  I saw this photograph in a museum and was immediately transported to a different time and place…. I didn’t know where and it didn’t matter. There is something about lace curtains and windows that always invites me to linger and roam, satisfying my gypsy soul.)





 

401. in love with color

every autumn 
the sweet wissahickon woods 
goes a little wild




(Among all the beautiful colors in the world, my eye goes immediately to red. Red is the first color of the rainbow, the color of fire and blood, full blooded life. I love the color red, I always have. It’s my favorite…. and maybe your, too? Much has been said and written about color, and especially the color red. Here’s a link.)

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


wind-blown leaves
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




(Hoping he’s not destined for obsolescence, this rooster holds fast to a sense of duty, waiting day after day for the right time to crow, no matter how many times that things may change!)




 

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




(The best things in life are free.)





 

389. standing tall


this old tree….
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




(There was a forecast of the aurora borealis appearing over the US sometime over the Halloween weekend. I wonder if this had anything to do with what we saw on Halloween Eve….take a look!)