quivering sawgrass focused on the same spot we wait, the hawk and i
Al W Gallia
How gorgeous the red-shouldered hawk looks in the morning sun, so intent and alert to its environment! Yet it allows me to stare and marvel at its uniqueness and beauty without any apprehension. I am so thankful whenever Serendipity chooses to expose her hidden secrets to me as she did at this moment.
Out of the chill wind, I lean against the sun-warmed brick wall. A brief mid winter warmup lures my thoughts toward coming springtime in south Louisiana.
limp banana leaf a young anole warms in the winter sun
feeling the sunlight on my face I too thank our loving God
Al Gallia 2023
An impatient commuter honks his horn at another car! For the moment, I am brought back into the real world where we humans continue our endless, chaotic struggle of cultures, morals, religions, money and power. But only briefly, as then I let my senses flow back to the blessed solitude, peace, and oneness of God and nature, to the promised hope and deliverance of my Christian faith.
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find…”
bare cypress quivering… tireless wavelets scurry before the icy wind
Al W Gallia 12-31-2022
Lake Martin, Louisiana in the winter! Not an egret, heron, or alligator in sight. Sunsets, cypress trees, blowing moss, shadows… all provide such beautiful settings and colors for poetry and photos. Love it!
The complete absence of sound…the smell and sight of fresh snow…my memories flow back from my winter walkabouts in Montana! So clean, so quiet! Yet I always sense God’s nearness. I do miss it sometimes. Blessings and peace, my friends. Happy New Year!
My friends…many of the haiku I am prompted to write arise from visual experiences as my wife, Bobbie, and I travel in our motorhome RV. If we see something special and meaningful while I drive, she takes photos! Posts like this are collaborative, with a bit of embellishment on my part, and works well for us! Her capture of this old tree along the roadside was my prompt in this haiku/haiga/haibun. Thanks, sweetheart..
Thunder slowly rolls into the distance after the cold rain storm. The old tree never wavered but held its ground as it has for over a hundred years. Water dribbles down its remaining bark, winding through old ridges and crevices and onto the anthill below. A crow circles the tree once and flies on. Somewhere across the field, a cow moos.
I pull back my rain hood, breathe the fresh, crisp air, and walk out from the dilapidated cow shed toward my grandparent’s house across the field. From their chimney, the north wind carries the aroma of woodsmoke and bacon! Picking up my pace, I have a happy “thank you, Lord” in my heart.
The first snowfall in a late autumn woodlands is a glorious sight! Almost a cleansing of the year’s trials and pains as translucent whiteness slowly overlays the remaining leaves, branches, and grasses.
Standing alone amidst this wonderland, I can only marvel at one of God’s greatest gifts to mankind: nature’s beauty. I hear only the faint, pervasive sounds of falling snow, and raising my face to heaven, say “thank you, Lord!”
Silence surrounds me except for the chirp of a flitting red cardinal. From the blue sky, February’s sun filters through the leafless cypress and tupelo trees, imprinting the still waters with a kaleidoscope of browns and blues. I drift silently along, feeling a cool breeze and breathing nature’s scent.