Summer is a fleeting privilege. Each one the same, each different. This is the 75 summer of my life.
I grew up on the Texas coast, as a child, and into adulthood, summers were filled with beach parties, wiener roasts, roasted marshmallows, and watermelon. Charging into the waves, to be knocked down, get up and charge again. The way the sand felt under foot, as the waves returned to the sea. The cry of the seagulls as they dived for food. Collecting shells on the shore. Any day was a good day for a picnic.
Now, I live in the high mountain desert of New Mexico, ancient old, land of enchantment. Summers are mostly cool, and the nights cooler. Seagulls are replaced by the rowdy magpies, who scream and quarrel while sitting on fence posts or dive bomb into the sagebrush while playing tag. There are no beaches to roam, no shells to collect. Instead, we collect the biggest blue skies and the most incredible sunsets, that could break your heart. I am in love with the land, and after all, when a summer has come and gone, it will not return again in just the same way, next summer will be different.
My view stretches all the way to the horizon
Or is stopped by the mountains
Each day torn from the big book of magic
13 comments:
This is sublime! I see your magpies, the dry grass and the broad skies. We see the same things maybe, though in slightly different forms.
Wonderful prose that dances across time and paints a delightful picture of your connection to the land.
I really love the sentiment of all summer being just the same and different in the same time... I always found a resemblance between the desert and the sea in the sky...
Deliciously drawn picture of your part of the world. It speaks for your love of the area. Thank you for sharing.
sunsets that could break your heart! Very strong and thankful piece.
I like the view of summer as a privilege which it is. And "sunsets, that could break your heart".
I love that very last line...
Love that reminder of the way the sand feels underfoot as the waves return to the sea. Great last line in your haiku!
This is beautiful. Seagulls changing into rowdy magpies; from shell collecting to incredible sunsets. Some changes are truly awesome.
This is so gorgeous, Annell. I love it.
It's true about each summer being different, mostly depending on where you are. Summers in North Norfolk are completely different from the ones I remember in London.
I can't imagine what it must be like either on the Texas coast or in the mountain desert of New Mexico, they are distant planets to me, but I enjoyed the wonderful pictures you painted of them, as only an artist/poet can. We have both seagulls and rowdy magpies here, as well as the biggest (not always blue) skies and incredible sunsets. The final line is wonderful: 'Each day torn from the big book of magic' :)
Very nice haibun and nice poem at the end. And being in the dry desert of the Southwest....lovely. "cool days and cooler nights". I love the desert and your words bring it close.
I like these beside each other...it provides a vivid reminder that since everything can change in an instant with a curve ball thrown out of nowhere
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