
dance of the lion
Aunt Kaminari disguised
New Year’s explodes
© Tournesol ’15
Poetry ~ Waka

© Tournesol ’15

I really must go back home, mom’s home, to sit by the window and look at the dance of birds. So many different birds taking their turn pecking at the feeder hanging over la rivière Yamaska. What astonished me was the cardinal who is twice the size of the other birds not gaining control over these birds. I guess in the feathered world, size does not matter but cunning prowess and speed does. Why who would have thought that “foxiness” reigns (grins) among birds?
© Tournesol ’15
© Tournesol ’15

CP Card Games (Karuta)

Going to the farmers’ market as a young child was an adventure. My grandmother would take me and I enjoyed the social aspect of it. Farmers chatting with GrandMaman, so many knew her for she was a midwife and probably assisted many births in those farm houses. It was also a place appropriate to bargain at the local market and sometimes just listening to some of the bantering made it fun to be here with her. It’s sort of cool tagging along someone so well known, respected and loved.
Although we lived in town she still knew her fresh vegetables seeing as she had several gardens, flora and vegetables and she knew how to choose fresh meat. She would even test fish by taking a tiny piece raw and taste it to see if it was really fresh; I guess it is no surprise that I learned to eat a tiny portion of fresh extra-lean grown steak raw sprinkled with salt while she was making hamburgers. You have to remember that in those days we went to the butcher and saw him grind the fresh steak.
© Tournesol ’15
© Tournesol’15
Sogi’s haiku that our host so beautifully translated gives me such a beautiful image of hope.
abandoned house
the garden taken over –
butterfly home © Iio Sogi (Tr. Chèvrefeuille)
I get expectant feelings as I imagine butterflies,insects, stray cats, rodents and birds making a home wherever they can especially during our cold winter months. Even a homeless person who may find a “good spot” shielded from bitter cold winds and rain appreciates our view of “nothing” as “home”.
Verger d’Emilie
winter’s hostage
free rent
~
abandoned kiosk
finch and sparrows
moving in
~
moving in
cats and mice playing nice
catch me if you can
~
padlocked fruit stand,
awning offers shelter,
beggar’s castle
© Tournesol ’15
the endless night
unable to count the stars
in the frozen pond (Ese)
snow clouds floating overhead
bored, I soon lost interest (Tournesol)
the endless night
unable to count the stars
in the frozen pond (Ese)
how can one keep count
when they are frozen in time (Tournesol)

This should be fun although I love both kigo words snowflakes representing weather my part of the world and the sunflowers being admired by my Aussie friends….lucky Sandy, Jen and Michael, I will write on both.
Snowflakes are pretty but when they stick to your lashes and the cold wind makes my eyes weep, well, it’s a dangerous combination, that’s all I’m saying. Tonight I walked home in the bitter cold at minus 27 C and who knows with the wind chill…I was prepared with extra warm socks in sheep skin lined boots (Saute Mouton), layers of wool sweaters under my warm coat, Gortex glove and mittens, cagoule under pilot hat and eternity mohair scarf…but my cagoule kept slipping leaving my face exposed to the frigid air.
*
The sky was clear tonight with the odd cloud splashed here and there on that navy canvas and I knew it was the last night to savour this full moon. I had to take a glove off my right hand to take a few photos with my smartphone since it works only with the heat of a hand….click, click until I could no longer feel my fingers…that was my warning to head into the warmth. It was so worth the cold hand. The moon smiling down on me was as if my mom was somewhere nearby.
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This summer I hope to take more advantage of just relaxing and reading outdoors. I tend to carry my tablet everywhere to write….but by a lake or pond would be a nice change. I look forward to that, and sitting a garden of daisies or sunflowers…or both!

(c) Tournesol’15