Perfume

Carpe Diem Time Machine #8, Perfume

Perfume

Today is the first truly warm day of the spring here. The feel is that we are well into spring yet, because of the severe winter tender petals are still in bud stage. To awaken spring within me and  for a chance to dream of the type of garden I wish for this year I set out for the terminal market.   it is an open air market and everything is in full bloom.  As I stroll down the aisle the very much alive and blooming rose bushes are in competition with the fully blooming hyacinths. It’s a bonanza of colors, and the breeze stirs the pot.

full bodied perfumes

from hyacinths and roses

my senses whirl

PR

4/17/15

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2015/04/carpe-diem-time-machine-8-perfume.html?m=1

A Winter kikobun


IMG_7374 boulder in creek

Carpe Diem Ghost Writer #40 “Kikobun” by Hamish Managua Gunn

Here is what defines a kikôbun:

•It is structured somewhat like a haibun, a passage of prose with at least one short poem (haiku or tanka)
•It features landscape and nature, and interaction between writer and the landscape
•Bashô focused on exactly that, the nature and not on prescribed formulas or conceptions
•The key specification is that a kikôbun involves movement of the writer, in that it is a short travel diary
•The haiku should not repeat what is in the prose, and should not attempt to ′globalise’ the prose like a conclusion

So the task is to write a kikôbun, similar to haibun, but the writer is travelling, and recording.
So the task is to write a kikôbun, about a journey, or part of a journey or wander. The idea of it being about wandering and observing is very relevant.

A Winter kikôbun

As I escape from the canyons of the city I do so in a car, which is one of the things I need a break from. It makes up for it in the countryside sceneries it offers up. Farm houses and buildings painted in that familiar red tucked into acres of land,  laying undisturbed wearing the wheat color of winter. Trees now bare of leaves reveal hidden homes and lives, set my imagination wandering. The horses are out in the field today at this one farm that always grabs my attention.  How do they stand the cold,  I wonder? God gave them true grit.
I arrive at


Ole Rickety, the nick name of my destination.  I turn off the car and before I open the door the sounds of the boisterous creek invades my soul and calm is cemented. I am rejuvenated.

melodious creek
bird songs fade in background
a playful journey

one of natures’ s many gifts
rushing water tumbling

PR

12/31/14

Hamish this was indeed a challenge, I don’t know how close I came to it, but I sure hand fun trying.

Happy New Year to you in that forest of yours!!

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2014/12/carpe-diem-ghost-writer-40-kikobun-by.html