Kim is the host of this week’s Haibun Monday at the dVerse poet’s pub. Kim says:
For this week’s Haibun Monday, write about solitude: it could be meditative solitude, solitude in nature, or just plain old sitting alone in your room solitude. That’s up to you. But you should write no more than three tight paragraphs about solitude, followed by a traditional haiku that includes reference to a season.
The two male ring-necked pheasants made their appearance in my yard a few weeks or so ago. They were pecking under the bird feeders for the bits left from the oiler sunflower seeds and the woodpecker suet cakes. The snow had covered most of the ground in the area except from around the bases of the fenceposts, trees, and shrubs, where one was first seen pecking.
The pheasants, imported from warmer climates — brought in for those humans who like to kill birds and other things – for sport hunting, they are maladapted to the often subzero temperatures of Michigan. Besides the cold, hazards for them are the hawks frequenting the area; also the one feral cat who is seldom seen other than its footprints in the snow.
Last week, just one pheasant was looking in the back slider at the many houseplants, probably seeking shelter. He was there for hours, in my line of sight, and finally huddled up against the glass. His partner nowhere in sight, he flew to the back, over the snow, when I opened the slider to feed him. He’s been gone since yesterday, where he pecks and wanders the yard, alone.
Lone winter pheasant
wanders stark white terrain with
nature’s mixed blessing.