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    Parker Owens
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2021 - Fall - A Winding Path Entry

Switchbacks on the Trail - 1. The Afternoon Trail

There are paths for walking and biking near home. They don't appear to get much use, as the world, even in its pandemic state, seems impatient of such things. But they have been perfect for me. They call me out of the house and up the hill and along the stream often. I'm no use with a camera, but maybe these Haiku can let you experience these walks with me.

September crickets

sing in the afternoon sun

ignoring autumn.

 

~*~

 

Golden crowned kinglets

search for perfect vintage seeds

amongst the wild grapes.

 

~*~

 

Silent flycatchers

wing through the green canopy,

harvesting insects.

 

~*~

 

Seven mergansers

float downstream separately

but take wing as one.

 

~*~

 

Wood frogs spring across

the stream bed full of deer tracks,

imagining rain.

 

~*~

 

Striped chipmunks scamper

over gnarled giant maples

blown down by thunder.

 

~*~

 

Thrushes perch and sing

near a patch of wild onion

praising the evening.

 

~*~

 

From the leaf litter

pale grey ghost flowers emerge

where the old beech grew.

 

~*~

 

Bright orange fungi

sprout amongst moss covered stones,

celebrating the fog.

 

~*~

 

Salamanders lurk

where round green-clad rocks await

the November snow.

 

~*~

 

A sycamore leaf

as big as a raven’s wing

flutters to the ground.


Thank you for joining me on my fall rambles. Soon it will be winter, and the woods will sleep, awaiting the spring.
Copyright © 2021 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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  • Love 12
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2021 - Fall - A Winding Path Entry
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Chapter Comments

It takes a wonderful imagination and a great way with words to create something like these haiku verses; but all would be for naught it you were not also someone deeply in touch with nature. I love that you love the forests, and the grasslands, and the sparkling waterways, and the things that live in those places.

Observation and appreciation, wonder, and a fondness for the natural world are evident in every single word. :)

 

  • Love 5
39 minutes ago, Geron Kees said:

It takes a wonderful imagination and a great way with words to create something like these haiku verses; but all would be for naught it you were not also someone deeply in touch with nature. I love that you love the forests, and the grasslands, and the sparkling waterways, and the things that live in those places.

Observation and appreciation, wonder, and a fondness for the natural world are evident in every single word. :)

 

Thank you for these kind and encouraging words. My time in the woods and field is indeed precious - there’s so much to see and take in. Now winter is soon to arrive, making over the forest floor until spring warms the ground again. Until then, I shall have to watch the chickadees and squirrels. 

  • Love 4
5 hours ago, lomax61 said:

I love this collection of connected Haiku, so evocative of autumn. You’re lucky to have this kind of inspiration on your doorstep. I agree that words work better than a photograph.

Since writing these, the leaves have completely carpeted the trail, leaving only the occasional marker nailed to a tree to show the way. Yet it’s still good to scuff those deep drifts as I climb the  hill. You’re quite right, too: the trail is a great boon to my spirit and as inspiration. 

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