Evening: One Deep Breath
Canoe glides softly
Into evening eddies
Tired.
Last bird calls echo
Crickets begin to sing
Evening in the hills
Mosquito lands
Ripples of water
Trout's dinner
Deck in the woods
Banjo in my hands
Evening whispers
This weekend, I went back to the hills to visit my parents and canoe down the same river I canoed down countless times as a child. I brought my sketchbook, but somehow just didn't even open it, preferring to sit out on the deck with my banjo, sometimes playing softly, but more often just watching the life of the woods around me.
On Saturday, we debated on whether to give up on the canoeing expedition and just go for a walk in the woods, but recommitted to the 7 mile paddle and headed off to the canoe livery, not getting there until the afternoon, and finding ourselves waiting. No problem: we watched the goats in a nearby pen wiggling through to get to the feedbox until our name was called, then headed upriver with a trailer of canoes.
Then we decided to explore a rock formation on public lands partway down the river, and lazily drifted for some of the trip. When we arrived near the end of the trip, I was exhausted, but happy. After my shower, as everyone else got ready for dinner, I again sat with my banjo in the gathering dusk.
Into evening eddies
Tired.
Last bird calls echo
Crickets begin to sing
Evening in the hills
Mosquito lands
Ripples of water
Trout's dinner
Deck in the woods
Banjo in my hands
Evening whispers
This weekend, I went back to the hills to visit my parents and canoe down the same river I canoed down countless times as a child. I brought my sketchbook, but somehow just didn't even open it, preferring to sit out on the deck with my banjo, sometimes playing softly, but more often just watching the life of the woods around me.
On Saturday, we debated on whether to give up on the canoeing expedition and just go for a walk in the woods, but recommitted to the 7 mile paddle and headed off to the canoe livery, not getting there until the afternoon, and finding ourselves waiting. No problem: we watched the goats in a nearby pen wiggling through to get to the feedbox until our name was called, then headed upriver with a trailer of canoes.
Then we decided to explore a rock formation on public lands partway down the river, and lazily drifted for some of the trip. When we arrived near the end of the trip, I was exhausted, but happy. After my shower, as everyone else got ready for dinner, I again sat with my banjo in the gathering dusk.
Labels: banjo, canoe, insects, joy, music, nature, One Deep Breath, poetry, rest, simple pleasures, summer, travel
posted by Plain Foolish | 8:48 AM
12 Comments:
Lovely images in your haiku; beautiful descriptions of evening in the country.
sounds like a lovely evening!
It sounds absolutely beautiful...I just loved your haikus.
sounds very peaceful; i wish i was there!
Thanks for sharing your evening. I can feel the serenity in your haiku. A place that is special to you and full of fond memories.
You painted such a beautiful painting with your words -- lovely banjo music too! I really felt the canoe gliding in the water and felt the air around me filled with crickets and mosquitoes. Really nice!!
:)
Ah, so calming! Lovely words and imagery.
Deck in the woods
Banjo in my hands
Evening whispers
Something very evocative about this one...as if we are all in much larger hands. :-) Nice.
Very bucolic and peaceful poetry.
Just so lovely. Now these speak my language for sure! Thank you for letting us share in a small way your trip down the river.
I can hear your banjo in your haiku and, of course, in your description of what I'd consider to be a perfect summer day.
I can't remember the last time I heard someone play the banjo
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