(c) all rights reserved · dverse · haibun · poetry

dVerse — Back yard, right corner

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Back yard, right corner

The black locust tree umbrellas the yard behind the house except at the edges. The lawn slopes down, as the house is raised above the high water table; it makes mowing with the rider a bit tricky. At the corner itself, there is a maple tree that was transplanted early in the Spring. There is purpose in planting it there as it will suck up plenty of water and also act as a screen for the only close neighbor whose house is a straight line out from the corner.

A little to the right of it and up the slope are one of the ginkgo trees, planted in 2012 as a sapling, and the peony raised bed, put in in 2013. Up closer, on the patio, you will see an amalgamation of plants that get put outside in the summer and are brought in in fall. These include two fair-sized grapefruit trees started from seeds that have yet to bloom or bear fruit; a five-year old rosemary plant; a same-aged lemon thyme; one struggling indeterminate houseplant, and one scraggly catnip that’s been mauled repeatedly.

Outside of that perimeter is a mown field and free fields. You can’t see it in the photo, but the wind is blowing and the leaves are moving. You can’t hear it in the photo, but the birds are making noise and there is the sound of heavy equipment in the distance. Since the fracking companies ran their pipeline down the roads last year which provide natural gas for heating, a rash of new homes are being built around the area. Intermittently, squids on Harleys roar by in gangs, as the road has little traffic (other than them and people on bikes) and is a straightaway between the stop signs at the intersections over a mile apart.

Green textures take shape
as lens adjusts, frame by frame –
living journaled joy.

 

 

 

Peter Frankis is today’s host of dVerse.  Peter says:
•Take a photo of the view out your window
•Write a poem about it – what do you see, what’s missing, what don’t you see when you look out the window?  what’s changed since this time last year?

56 thoughts on “dVerse — Back yard, right corner

  1. I love how you describe the view from your window, Lisa. I also enjoy the context and background that you provide, such as the noises we cannot hear or the full picture we cannot see beyond like with the free fields and the wind, as you’ve mentioned. This is a fantastic and raw piece of prose. I also love the haiku at the end; I adore the imagery it provides in two different views: the one we see from the window, and the one we see through the lens of the camera.

    Excellent take on the prompt!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A wonderful description of your world. I was interested in the mention of fracking, since it’s met with much conjecture in other places. I believe in Oklahoma they blame it for the increase in earthquakes! Thank you for sharing your world. I enjoyed every bit of it.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks much, Beverly. Fracking is wrong every which way, including inciting earthquakes. I hate the fact that most everybody on this road now has a yellow post in front of their house meaning they are hooked up to the pipeline. What may be most depressing is that my son told me that when they shut down the huge coal-fed electric power plant last year here, they now pump in electricity generated by fracking 😦

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  3. Even the word “fracking” sounds obscene. They claim it’s safe. They probably lie. Your Haibun is lovely, with depth and deft touches; like a free tour, what you can see, and we can’t without your dynamic words.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is a lovely haibun, taking us progressively out from the shade into the garden and then the world beyond. I particularly liked the last stanza – ‘you can’t see this from the photo…’ – into what’s changing in the landscape – new houses etc. And the haiku is a different take on your view out the window. Thanks for sharing your view today.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I had something similar happen once in a house I was in — opened the road to a truck route behind our homes. Should be some kind of ordinance to prevent that kind of noise pollution from ruining residential neighborhoods, but no one in ‘city hall’ cared one bit.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. I like the way the indistinct photo echoes the indistinct future. Who knows what will change with the rash of housing?

    By the way, does a locust tree have leaves like mimosa, compounds of thirty or so small leaflets like fishbones? And does it have spikes on the trunk and the branches like the crown of thorns?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Jane. This one has the leaves like mimosa, but no spikes or thorns. I’m 99% sure this is a black locust but it might be a honey locust or other variety. I’m not a tree expert.

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      1. Nobody seems to know what two of the trees out here are. They’re not acacias, too many leaf segments and they don’t produce flowers, just green catkins that the bees love. One of them has real spikes in it up to 4″ long around the trunk and along the main branches. The other one has no spikes. The leaves are like mimosa.. I wondered if it might be a type of locust. It could be a type of mimosa of course…

        Liked by 1 person

          1. I did some more research looking at non-native varieties of mimosa as it doesn’t look like acacia, which is what the former owner of the place thought. Turns out it’s a Mimosa Hostilis and is native to Brazil and has colonised the Amazonian rainforest. What it’s doing here and how it’s thriving in this climate I can’t imagine!

            Liked by 1 person

  6. A haibun was a good choice for your view, Lisa, the best vehicle for plenty of detail. Such a fertile spot, too, with a great variety of trees and plants. I’d never heard of a black locust tree or seen a gingko tree, but I am familiar with your beautiful peonies from a previous poem. It must smell amazing out there too. You’ve appealed to all the senses, including the noise of birds and heavy equipment, and I love the way you zoom out to include what’s out of frame.. The haiku is a little landscape in green!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. This haibun makes me think that writing, as prose, the view out the window (out each window?) is an exercise that we should all do several times a year. Wonderfully centering and stilling.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Alexandra, I like that idea very much. I went to each window and took a picture and chose the one that had a story I wanted to tell about it, but each window had a story to tell. Glad you connected with this one.

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