1
Painting a sidewalk
Apple tree blossoms dripping,
A light morning rain
2
Vanishing from sight
Robin returns with a worm,
Time to mow the lawn!
3
Afternoon thunder
Raindrops roll down the window…
Sad tears! Joyous tears!
4
When the sun came out
It was just for a moment
That I saw the rain…
I walk up the north side of Palouse Ridge through mud and puddles. Spring makes itself evident on side of the road. I pass Wild Cherry, Nineleaf Biscuitroot, and Common Cowparsnips. At the top of the ridge, the road dries out. I come out of the trees and am greeted by a blanket of purple Larkspur spotted with golden Arrowleaf Balsamroot. After a time, I begin my walk back to the trailhead where I find an old fallen tree bent over a rock, it reminds me of broken bones. In its shade grows Angular Solomon’s Seal. I am not sure if this plant is native or not.
Lying over stone
Old tree trunk bent and fractured
Nourished spring flowers
Note: Paradise Ridge is one of the few remnants of original Palouse prairie. Most of these locations are preserved through land trusts, for which I am grateful. These remnants make up 1% of the Palouse. Most of the remaining 99% is dry farmland. Because there are places where native Palouse prairie exists gives me faith the natural landscape can return; that we can share this land with the native plants and peoples in harmony with our need to grow food.
A warm spring wind
I soak my toes at the shore
A bird flys backward
I am waking up after a morning nap. Cradled in my arms is my grandson, Rudy. I am holding him for the first time. The doctor gave the okay for close family visits with restrictions. I am freshly showered, in clean clothes and wearing a mask. Now Rudy wants Mom so I get up and begin work fixing a dishwasher. I go to the hardware store to purchase a part. I enter wearing a mask and receive help from a maskless sales clerk. Finishing my purchase I go to the hotel to shower again and put on clean clothes. Clean, I return to see my grandson with my mask in place. Idaho begins stage one reopening today. The traffic and crowds are proof, but on my travels home I see only one person wearing a protective mask. I wonder how stage one will finish and how stages two, three, and four will play out. I am grateful to experience the joy of visiting my grandson and would like to visit again, even if I need to shower and wear a mask. This reminds me, the mask is to protect others, not myself.
Mountain spring snowmelt
The river’s edge erodes, where
Bulbous Bluegrass sway
Between the fences
A tumbleweed bounces by
The whistling pigs
While jogging on a sidewalk a young person approached me. As we got closer to each other the person stepped far to the side. I immediately recoiled before switching to a relaxed feeling of gratitude. The person nodded and I nodded in respect for each other’s safety, practicing social distancing.
There was a lot of data to intake about social distancing this week. Both in the world and decisions that need made about my job. I wondered what side of the fence I should be on. Stay at home or go out and keep the economy going? Both sides say the other lives in fear. I wonder if both sides fear the same thing? I ask myself, what is the best way to be while respecting the lives of all involved?
A hair in the tea
Showing and hiding itself
Tea cup in my hands
On my second visit to the arboretum in Moscow in two weeks, I find myself there on a cloudy day. Both times I started off my walk with the thought asking, “Why couldn’t it be sunny?” Maybe this is the photographer in me thinking there is always something that could be better. Or, maybe it is my capacity to want to be somewhere other than where I am. Today I was able to let that go and take in a few good photographs.
Fragrance sings at dawn
Birds among the tree blossoms
The clouds settle in
The garden spring peas
Push through the crusty soil
An unhurried voice
The trail was dry and dusty as we began our walk. It was not crowded, but the few people we saw did kick up dust that blew in the wind. We ran into a couple on horseback. One of them said they had been there many times and it was never windy, but whenever she came with her partner, it is always windy. It was good to know why the winds were blowing on this day!
Along the plateau we came across a few old ponds. At the second pond, among the many birds we heard the call of a Yellow-headed Blackbird. We spotted it on some reeds drinking or eating from the pond. Soon after our stop at the pond, we headed down toward the lake where there were many downed trees from a fire.
Across the trail lie
Dead trees fallen to the ground
Graciously giving
We found our way to a viewpoint over the lake. Ducks and waterfowl floated on wind swept waves. Others soared overhead with motionless wings carried by the wind. As we began our return along the lake, within the burned areas, we passed a number of young aspen groves.
From under charred ground
Reaching for the empty sky
Aspens shoot upward
Against a white sky
A Weeping Pussy Willow
Swipe of an ink brush
In a comment in my latest post, my friend Nicole congratulated me on the birth of my first grandchild. I am so happy for my daughter and son-in-law and their bringing a beautiful life into this world. I am grateful they are all home and resting.
I wrote the following haiku in response to the timing of my grandson’s birth and how practicing social distancing and the limitations created by the COVID19 pandemic has affected our culture. I did this after I was made aware of an artist project titled “Social Distance, Haiku and You.”
Grandson through pictures
Our sick dying all alone
An ache in the heart
Here is a link to the website:
Social Distance, Haiku and You
This week I’ve been asking myself, what is the best way to prepare for something?
For example at work I prepared to work remotely from home. Our team prepared for the “problems” we will face to make our transition easier and took steps to resolve them. No one could think of anythings else; we were good to go. However, in reality, the self preparedness did not foresee most of the challenges that arose. Some of the preparedness helped, but most of the problems that came up were ones that were not realized ahead of time. They were unpredictable. Each team member’s problems were unique. They ended up working through their “problems” on their own. The result benefited the team.
My thoughts are about the effort and time I put into preparing for something that may or may not happen. These thoughts remove me from the moment at hand. As a result, I lose the truth of the moment and the ability to be present. I prepare to feel safe only to feel unsafe because I’ve set myself up for a perceived outcome, trying to predict the unpredictable.
Anxiously walking
In the park the old willow
quietly waiting