Today’s offering is a haibun written for hostess of the evening’s d’Verse, Kim’s, prompt of January.
Waking up at eleven, looking out at another repetition of anemic feebleness that washes the life out everything. Invisible beyond grey, clouds prevent any instance of ROYGBIV. Eyes strain to delineate blah from blah. To say it is preferable to the blank of dark is astounding, as who would prefer that?
A bitter cold pervades outside, while gathering wood, walking to the mailbox, or filling the bird feeders. The chill sneaks in through hastily opened and shut doors and under them. Just the sound of the wind decreases the temperature inside. No layers, socks, slippers, hats, or blankets can keep its touch away.
Friends call and text photos of where they are frolicking in warmth with scant clothing. They leave for months with nary a thought of the living icecubes, abandoned to the cold. When it rains instead of snows, there is no outdoor recreation aside from staying dry while doing the chores.
sleep in naked abandon
dreaming of warm green.
Update on 1/10/19:
Looking out this morning, I saw the pheasant outside of the slider on the back of the house. Trying to think of something to put out for the critter to eat, I remembered a bag of quinoa in the freezer. Quinoa is a “wild” grain and so probably a good choice. I opened the side door as quietly as possible and threw out a few handfuls. Mr. Pheasant eventually made around to that area and began pecking at the grain. Here’s the video. Today is another happy day.