What an opportunity I am often faced with at Carpe Diem to learn more about nature. I am interested in herbal medicine and when I see such pretty flowers that have these qualities, my curiosity gets the better of me. Searching a bit further I wanted to find places closer to home or at least in North America. I was pleased to discover that many have named this Boneset Eupatorium japonicum flower after an American from New England, Joe-Pye who used the plant medicinally for helping people with typhus fever. In addition to its medicinal properties, both the flowers and seeds have been used in producing pink or red dye for textiles.
It is a lovely addition to any garden especially if you want to attract butterflies who love the sweet nectar of these flowers. They grow from 3 to 10 feet tall! If you want to read more click here. I found that remark about butterflies fascinating and found many photos of that exquisite meeting of butterflies and these flowers. Imagine butterflies gathering together to savour this gourmet gala!
blue clusters flora stretching tall high heavens ~ gourmet gala monarch butterflies drunk, nature’s nectar
We seem to be in the spirit of death, being in the middle of autumn, approaching Halloween and all Saint`s Day November 1st; we also call this month in French, le mois des morts (month of the dead). November 11th, being rememberance day where we pay tribute to all the soldiers who gave their lives for their country and for world peace. And so I continue on remembering another great man…my grandfather, when he died in his home, Princess, his old mongrel (spaniel mix) went down to the basement and howled grieving for her master. She stayed there for a week in mourning.
la mort d’un grand homme – Grandpapa
pinson est muet dernier souffle du maître, vieux chien hurle
death of a great man – Grandfather
blue-finch falls silent master’s last breath, old dog howls
Our host at Carpe Diem’s prompt is “A Departed Soul”. Many of the great masters of haiku wrote “death poems” about their own deaths. One of the “big five” who delivered haiku, Shiki wrote this on his deathbed:
morning dew evaporates in the early sunlight spirit climbs to the sky
@ Chevreuille
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crossing (haibun)
I love our host’s haiku because it reminds me of my GrandPapa who passed June 17th during the day. I don’t remember if it was morning but the “morning dew” makes me think of the river where we were brought up and where my grandfather died in his home.
The dove is often represented in “death” but its significance is more personal to me. In French the translation for “dove” is Colombe which is my mother’s name.
I love daisies. I feel connected to this flower as the petals represent the multiplicity of my personality. The layer of petals beneath the top layer are facets to be discovered throughout a lifetime. I remember, when working in homecare, how sad I would feel when a client passed. Weeks and months caring for a person in their homes was humbling for them and such a loss when they died. After a few years, I wrote to my supervisor that I could no longer continue working in this department for each person who died, I felt a petal from the daisy fall. If I continue, what will be left of me?
Here is my attempt in writing a haiku with this tone of “death poems”:
Things rarely turn out as I imagine. This is sometimes best for what joy, discoveries and excitement would I find if my life was all mapped out. I’d be like a peg on a wall map. My need to control would actually make me a slave of my making. Do I get disappointed with the outcomes of life’s events? Of course I do many times. The heartaches, the disappointments and the self-degradation are part of life and in some ways who I am. I am a product of my past and life experiences. How I make of it, is still my choice. We always have choices…not always in abundance. I may have to choose for a pearly grey from a drab grey but still, I have a choice. And with the darkness of despair how else would I be blinded by the beauty of the glowing stars as well as golden sun? If I have doubts about love and being loved, I meet exuberance when I am embraced by those who do love me. It may come from someone I have not been waiting and then that makes it a double bonus cherished and forever imprinted on my heart.
I am a daydreamer by day and by night. Many times I cannot tell where a dream started or where a fantasy ended. And is that important? When life takes too long to show its glowing stars, I escape into stories I devour for days and days. And more recently, I dip into my consciousness and write what transpires from many escapades in delusions and fantasies, me, myself my muse and I.
Young children seem so fascinated by nature`s tiny creatures. My son would look at ants working busily for hours…one tiny ant hill and he would cry inconsolably if someone stepped on that hill or any insect. I love how children teach us adults or many times remind us of what we once found important in life.
I remember as a young child spending hours in the field behind my house searching for grasshoppers. My mother was a hairdresser and she would put me outside to play which sure was better than going for a nap. Even in those days as a young child I hated going to bed.
I would jump, startled, if one jumped by me, then I would follow it, chasing it like a hunter. It would tease me regularly, keeping me busy most of the afternoon. Once I caught it, I would cup it in my two hands to make sure it would not get away and ask it to give me molasses. Okay, I had no clue at 4 and 5 years old what the darn thing did but either it was scared and it pooped out of fear or it had no problems of “irregularity” (see me chuckle here. Almost every summer afternoon, I would spend hours searching, under the hot sun accompanied by the piercing sound of crickets.
I used to love spending time at my GrandMaman’s house who lived by the river. I would spend mornings and afternoons on the dock, lying on my tummy watching the minnows swirling in circles and catfish jumping up now and then. I could never eat a catfish because they were like friends…pets to me. And the minnows would tickle my hand in the water and my ankles if I dared put my feet in the water. I say dare, because we were not allowed to venture in the water without an adult. I don’t ever remember disobeying that rule either. When I think of the freedom we had then that most children do not have today, I was pretty lucky to spend all that time alone with these little critters.
Our host at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai has given us the Prompt “wings” and gave us a few quotes from Khalil Gibran in Sand and Foam. However, when I think of wings there are several meanings that come to mind. This morning I saw a haiku by MarkM Redfearn for this prompt. I did not know it was an offering to this prompt at the time, but his haiku inspired me to write something about children, war and wings at “Do not weep for me” But after reading several times our host’s prompt I am reminded of two situations.
I like how our host describes how amazing it would be to fly and visit the world, look down at our planet from above. That would be so cool! As children we believe that some humans can actually fly. My son certainly did believe in Superman when he was only two and a half. I was almost nine months pregnant with his little sister and I had gone into the house for a moment to check something on the stove. We lived in the country and my son had been playing in the sandbox when I had gone in. When I came out to join him in the backyard, my neighbor came rushing to me out of breath. My son had climbed the metal tower for the television antennae and was on the roof of my neighbour’s house. He was singing the intro song of the show “Superman”. I called up to him and told him to wait for mommy to join him, but my tummy was too big to manage the climb. Another neighbour’s teenager went up for me. My son believed he could fly…Dear Lord, I was so grateful he had not jumped!
it’s a bird
it’s a plane
it’s superman
So when we talk about flying, that story always comes to mind.
My mother and I are very very close. Growing up I always felt connected and even after I married (still young at 19) that bond was still very strong. In fact, I remember at 22, we had moved about a thirty minute drive from her and I experienced separation anxiety for a year. Well, not like a child, but I had developed pain in my shoulder for a long time and a rheumatologist had told me to figure out what had changed in my life in the past few months and that that was the root of my pain. I was quite insulted of his insinuation that it was psychosomatic but he was right. The pain went away on its own several months later.
Growing up as a teenager, I had never really rebelled or given my mother a difficult time like many teenagers naturally do. My parents had divorced when I was a teen and I felt even closer to my mother, wanting to protect her and take care of her. It was when my own marriage ended, 24 years later, I moved 6 hours away from home to start a new life and a new career. That was the first time I had actually cut the umbilical cord…really! Indeed, at 40 something, I was finally spreading my own wings and becoming an independent woman. I was definitely a late bloomer but better late than never, right? I could not help but choose a photo of a dove to represent my moving on with my life. In this case we are talking about separating from my mother, Colombe (which means dove)
I was trying to remember times I was deep in a forest besides camping. Then I recalled times when I used to cross country ski in the mountains…not huge ones, mind you…more hills…Mount St Bruno was such a lovely place to hike, snow shoe and ski. It has alpine skiing too even if it is a tiny mountain; it is lit up atnight and only 15 minutes from downtown Montreal. So that`s pretty cool.
My favourite place to cross country was in Rougemont, where my son actually lives now. You go up up up for a long time. But you do get in the forest quick enough and can shed a few layers of sweaters under that winter wind breaker. It is a great place to just sit and admire the scenery. And once you get high enough, then you go down down down for a long time…lt is not too steep so the descent is really lovely.
Cross country against strong winds forest shelters
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Tournesol dans un Jardin 
