Monday, March 6, 2017


We're requested to feature the forest in our
haibun/haiku this week at
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
standing sentinel



  1. What a wonderful haibun! I love your sounds from your window. I love how you describe the trees, like old ladies with their arms akimbo. I just looked out my window and...saw the same thing! And your haiku at the is almost ancient in its tone. Lovely.

  2. I like the idea of having a ticket and, in your case, even a front row seat to this concert the seasons provide.

  3. Beverly, this is stunning. Your description, where so much is focused on the sense of hearing, resonate with me and I can feel the peace it brings. I'm in the desert for a spell and hear many of the same sounds--the owls, doves in the morning along with mockingbirds, and those frogs who call grows more intense the hotter it gets. And then, at home, those crickets. Ah. Once more, blogspot hates me. :o<

  4. the sound of nature is a melody of comfort to the ears.

  5. I love how you focused on the sounds, each season is its own symphony...

  6. I love your haiku, Beverly - how wonderful are trees!

  7. Oh I LOVE everything about this! I am beside your window with your words...Especially love this "until the trees stand bare like old ladies, arms akimbo, whose petticoats have fallen to their feet." I smiled here. Thank you for posting! I am refreshed this morning by your words. :)

  8. This is so lovely, Bev. I think of some of my neighbors, who never hear the sounds of nature, who turn up their tvs and never smell the wind, the flowers, never see the waving of tree limbs, never attempt to feel the soil beneath their feet. They miss out on the essence of life to me. Your haibun brought me along with you. Thank you, Bev. Sometimes being stuck in the urban blight, you know you are out of place, but you try. Sometimes just looking up into the sky will bath me with what is real and substantial.

  9. Lovely to have such sounds through your open window. We had mourning doves where I lived last and I have a stand of trees outside my new windows.....looking forward to opening my windows once the cold of winter gives way to warmer temperatures - which is taking long this year.

  10. Sounds, sights a feelings set to words to share and touch others. Thank you

  11. No matter where you go, Bev, you always take us with you. It's an uncanny gift and a joy to your friends.