December 5th

the first snow settles

dusts the fields and naked oak

trickle melts and falls

This is the third Haiku (or possibly 4th) I’ve written about the beautiful oak tree visible from our back garden. In fact, I would say it’s the fourth, now I have a pic for each season. Click on the Oak tag below for the others. It’s a haven for all sorts of birds, it’s wonderfully symmetrical with branches filling out a rounded space, like the synapses and contours of a brain.

But big day today, we had our first snowfall, although it melted by the afternoon.

December 2nd

crimson and luscious

thrushes feast on yew berries

burst on the frosted

brittle leaf litter

the ice queen’s breath builds pretty

crystals on the oak

We went to Wrest Park, it was cold and icy, but quiet and serene. Inside the walled gardens, a warm haven in the sun. My photos below (all photos © Mel Melis)

The goddess Iris (below)

Pretty ice crystals on the oak leaf.

November 2nd

the meek sun revives

stone hearts warm and swell with blood

Lazarus life light

On cold days the sun provides that warmth to lift even the coldest heart, to force a smile, to melt, even by a tiny amount, a sadness. Here are some photos I took in Centenary Wood and the place I keep returning to, the Pond on the moors. That solitary swan seems to be living there now, it makes me sad to think he or she might have lost their mate.

All copyright to photos © Mel Melis

October 7th

 

Restless Little Owl

calls to Selene’s bright shilling

the oak slumbers on

There was an owl, probably in the oak, in the early hours. The moon, even though it wasn’t full, was bright. Shining right through the tree. I noticed my breath steaming for the first time this autumn. It’s getting cold.

July 19th

 

the season’s passage

sun arcs feed the oak monarch

England’s wooden walls

Back in April, I wrote about the Oak visible from our back window. I can see it when I work, when the sun sets (and it isn’t raining!), it usually gets bathed in light and looks magnificent. It’s now totally green.

May 22nd

 

Acorn rain takes root

The old oak’s fey children dig

fated to perish

We felt guilty plucking this youthful oak from the earth. It’s so beautiful and virile, even when so tiny. The leaves are so defined. Clearly an oak. But it would smother the garden, shunt the house foundations, before itself would succumb to its massive parent.

April 29th

Disconsolate wail

sick yellow light stains the air

oak breathes and listens

A cat wailed outside our door, Katie (our cat) wasn’t impressed by this, sometimes she’ll get up and investigate, but she just raised her head from the sofa and looked at me, almost suggesting I look out the window for her, as she was too lazy to get up herself.

Which I did of course, you shouldn’t defy a cat right?

I peeped through the curtains, couldn’t see any living thing, whatever cat it was it was probably annoyed at being hammered by the unrelenting rain and just coincidentally happened to voice its disapproval outside our door. My view was just the usual dim yellow of the street lamp, polluting the road and cars like a set from some cheap noir film. It was all two tone, yellow and black. The only thing I could hear was the patter of rain.

Our oak door, sturdy and alive was stretching itself into spring, it shrinks and groans with the seasons. Whatever cat it was, our door was fast shut. Behind this barrier, I thought about catching some sleep. Katie looked at me, satisfied with my work, she told me I was allowed.

April 22nd

Gaze turns to the oak

eater of storms and vivid

in the solar glare

 

The oak tree visible from our back window is impressive, that distinctive shape, the arc of branches, that sturdy trunk, unyielding. It’s anytime going to be sprouting green, at the moment it still hints at winter, with it’s barren appearance. It does not detract from how magnificent it looks. Especially when the sun bathes it in light and the clouds behind it are black and threatening. Only an oak can hold it’s own when the weather makes war with itself.

Here is a pic of it I took earlier this evening.

February 1st

 

Five snipers huddled,

In the arms of the old oak,

Crystalline in frost.

 

Looked out of our back window today and saw a Hitchcock like scene. Five magpies had settled together in the old oak tree opposite. They were freezing poor things, trying to conserve energy, unmoving, which gave them an air of hatching some sinister plot.

Five for silver though right? Lottery ticket time :)