We're requested to feature the forest in our
haibun/haiku this week at https://dversepoets.com/
Age prohibits walks in the woods for me, but I
am nonetheless able to enjoy the concert of the
forest outside my window.
One of the blessings in my life is the grove of trees outside my bedroom window. I savor the nights I can sleep with my window open, listening to the night sounds in the woods. The occasional flutter of wings, the quiet “who who” of the owl who lives there, courting sounds of the tree frogs, the bugling trill of the cardinals, the plaintive murmur of the mourning doves, and the rustling of small creatures,,,all are sounds that settle on me like a mantle of calm and comfort. A summer rain is a concert from the patter of the first drops to the drumming of a steady downpour, the accompanying breeze wafting the wonderful scent of pure, sweet rain through my window.
The seasons bring gifts of their own. The usual night sounds in autumn are accompanied by the occasional plop as the acorns fall from the oaks, followed by the appearance of glorious shades of rust, red and gold. Soon the dry leaves are a muted concert of their own, until the trees stand bare like old ladies, arms akimbo, whose petticoats have fallen to their feet. The first snow of winter frosts it all in a magical panorama of white. An occasional ice storm brings a tympany of colliding branches. At last, the first tinges of Spring green appear, the daffodils push up through their bed of fallen leaves. The cycle prepares to repeat itself….. and I have had a ticket to the concert.
Contemplate the tree
recording passage of time