Haiku | Bashō | Winter Solitude

Winter solitude
in a world of one color
the sound of wind
Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694)

The “Winter Scene” card above was crafted by my mixed media photography art “inspirer,” Diane W. (midteacher on swap-bot). She sent it to me two years ago, but it has been hiding in a pocket  in my Traveler’s Notebook. Now, that it’s been “found,” the photo creation is an able companion for Bashō’s haiku.

12 Days of Christmas Postcards | Day 3

I like dressing in all seasons.
Every season has its own character and charm.
-Pierce Brosnan-

Since today is #ThursdayTreeLove, I’m sharing a tree-filled holiday postcard from Grass Valley, California. For this postcard, Love Notes pal, Kelly C. collaged four photos of the same scene from each of the seasons. While the evergreens hold their color, the grass, pond, snow, and other trees signify the changing seasons.

Don’t you just love the pun? Apropos for a “season’s greetings” postcard!

Seasons’ Greetings!


I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

Winter Is Good!

“Happy Winter.” Handmade card by Lori K.

Winter is good – his Hoar Delights
Italic flavor yield –
To Intellects inebriate
With Summer, or the World –

Generic as a Quarry
And hearty – as a Rose –
Invited with asperity
But welcome when he goes.

Emily Dickinson, Poem 1316

It’s no secret–I do not like winter. The cold, dreary days do little for my mood and force me to spend far too many days and nights indoors. It doesn’t help at all that winter immediately follows autumn, my favorite season.

It’s odd, I know, to begin a “Happy Winter” post with reasons I don’t like the season, but there are some things I love about winter–the nakedness of trees, a warm cup of cocoa, cozy nights in front of the fireplace, hope for “snow days,” and winter photo walks [when the temperatures ease a bit]. Besides, there’s poetry in winter’s dormancy as the earth is repairing and preparing for spring.

In short, my feelings about winter are much like the attitude toward winter described in Dickinson’s poem–I’m capable of extolling it’s virtues, but I’ll be happier when it’s gone.

Happy Winter? 😉


Love Noter Lori K made and sent the card above to me last winter. I’ve been looking forward to sharing it since I happily received it. Its glittery wintriness is much prettier “in person.”

Seriously though–Happy Winter!

Suddenly…Spring

I dream’d that as I wander’d by the way
Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring,
And gentle odours led my steps astray,
Mix’d with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,
But kiss’d it and then fled, as Thou mightest in dream.

–Lines 1-8, “A Dream of the Unknown,” Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

Thrive…

Life has evolved to thrive in environments that are extreme only by our limited human standards: in the boiling battery acid of Yellowstone hot springs, in the cracks of permanent ice sheets, in the cooling waters of nuclear reactors, miles beneath the Earth’s crust, in pure salt crystals, and inside the rocks of the dry valleys of Antarctica. –Jill Tarter

My hubby and I visited a cute garden shop today and while waiting for him to complete his transaction, I explored the grounds–checked out the various fountains, marveled at the ice patterns formed in what was once flowing water. I was drawn to a fountain pouring water into a heart-shaped basin and was so pleased to find goldfish surviving and thriving in the frigid water.

There’s a lesson in there somewhere…

Ice Story: Too Cold! Too Cold!

Too Cold, Too Cold!

I grew up and spent more than half my life in the Deep, Deep South–in New Orleans–where the west bank of the Mississippi River meets rock. So when the temperature gauge reads 8 degrees, there’s no question about it. I plan to stay indoors until Sir Sun shows Jack Frost who’s boss. But life isn’t always convenient, and sometimes we have to do what we have to do.

I braved the coldest temperatures I’ve had to deal with in my life–minus 5°F (with wind chill factor) when dropping my son off at school yesterday. Gasp!

“What? There is school?!”

That was my reaction when I woke up yesterday and found no notification of cancellation–or at least a delayed start to the school day. I guess it says a lot about my relationship with “extremely cold” weather that I seriously expected schools to be closed because of the single digit temperatures. I was tempted to let my son stay home–warm and cozy by the fireplace–but, like responsible parents, we sent him to school.

After drop-off, with multiple layers and thick, bulky coats on all, a trip to Walmart for thermals gave me this gift of ice. [Click an image for a closer look]

My first shots of the year. iPhone pics. Meh.

Unfortunately, I ignored the inner prompting to grab my camera when we were heading out the door. Of course, the “real” camera would have required more fidgeting with settings and more time in the ice cold temps, so I’ll accept these–my only evidence that I went outdoors and survived way below freezing temperatures.

Kudos [and thanks] to the Walmart team member for leaving the sprinklers on! 😉

Baby, It’s Cold Outside: The Gifts of Winter

Visitor by Irina Garmashova

Brrrr…It’s cold outside.

The postcards from a couple of my love notes pals–received a couple of weeks ago–seem to predict the weather we’ve been having in Northern Alabama lately. I’m convinced this winter’s frigid temperatures (so far) are payback for last winter’s warmth.

It’s no secret. I’m not crazy about cold weather. But there are good things about winter, so I won’t complain too loudly. Interestingly, I just read the quote included with the holiday postcard from Suzette R., another Love Notes pal, that reminds us that winter has its gifts.

May you grow still enough to hear the small noises earth makes in preparing for the long sleep of winter, so that you yourself may grow calm and grounded deep within. May you grow still enough to hear the trickling of water seeping into the ground, so that your soul may be softened and healed, and guided in its flow. May you grow still enough to hear the splintering of starlight in the winter sky and the roar at earth’s fiery core. May you grow still enough to hear the stir of a single snowflake in the air, so that your inner silence may turn into hushed expectation.  –Br. David Steindl-Rast

Stillness. Silence. Hushed expectation. These are the gifts that winter offers as we await awakening in the spring.

Photo by Lisa C., Chasing the Sun 

[Notes on Postcards: From Eileen V., “The Visitor,”Artwork by Irina Garmashova-Cawton Fine Arts. From Lisa C., “Winter Bird,” Photography by Lisa Comperry].