Feathered Flotilla

Leaf 363 – Art Inspired

 

Print by Sue Welfare

This print by Sue Welfare echoes many a similar scene which I’ve witnessed at the Cornish fishing port of Newlyn. You can almost hear the chaotic, jubilant cries of the seagulls mobbing the small boat as it motors homeward.

 

 

Approaching the narrows –

a feathered flotilla follows

the fishing boat in.

 

 

 

River Twilight

Leaf 362 – Art Inspired

 

Kawase Hasui, ‘Twilight at Kiba Lumber Yard’ (c.1920)

This wonderfully evocative Shin-hanga print by Kawase Hasui, ‘Twilight at Kiba Lumber Yard’ (c.1920), reminds me of many a river scene I’ve encountered here in different parts of Japan. It also reminds me of similar scenes among the muddy inlets along London’s tidal Thames. Captured perfectly in this particular print, I can feel that magical sense of time which only becomes perceptible at certain points at the start and close of day, when the world (and time with it) seems stilled. Almost as though one can reach out and touch the faraway sky, I suppose it has something to do with the riverine acoustics, when the wind drops and the very essence of the outdoors seems to echo deep within.

 

 

Sun dips

in evening deeps,

river stilled.

 

 

 

This haiku was originally written and posted on Bluesky.

Inner Sanctum

Leaf 361 – Reflections

 

To my mind at least, magnolia trees bursting into bloom herald the true onset of Spring each year. The magnolia in the two accompanying photographs is in Hampstead, near Keats Grove. Curiously, due to their longevity as a species, magnolia trees are pollinated by insects, such as beetles, rather than bees.

 

 

An ant in its

inner sanctum

– flowering magnolia.

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikuchallenge writing prompt: sanctum.

Photographs by Tim Chamberlain

Jet Trails

Leaf 360 – Reflections

 

I was recently reading Jerome K. Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat (1889). And there’s a sentence in it where he describes sailing fast on water as feeling like flying, or at least “the closest we’ve yet come to it.” – It’s hard to imagine now what the world would have been like before contrails constantly criss-crossed our skies.

 

 

Jet trails

                chasing

each other

                across

the sky – 

 

well-worn paths.

 

Photograph by Tim Chamberlain

Skywards

Leaf 359 – Art Inspired

 

Carl Holsøe - Interior with Cello

A haiku as homage, inspired by Jacqueline Du Pré’s famous interpretation of Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85.

 

 

Sound

of a cello –

soaring skywards.

Jacqueline Du Pré’ - Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85. 

(first movement), 1967.

 

Amber

Leaf 358 – Looking Back

 

Amber was named for the colour of his tummy fur. If I slapped my thigh, one-two, he’d come running like a dog. But he was more of a pal than a pet. The same age as me, he always slept on my bed. He passed away very peacefully at the grand old age of twenty-one, lying curled up on the lawn in the summer sun with his eyes closed – purring until the last.

 

 

Closed eyes –

feeling the soft hum

of a cat’s contentment.

 

 

 

Starry Night

Leaf 357 – Art Inspired

 

Vincent Van Gogh - The Starry Night (1889)

I remember reading somewhere once, a theory that the reason some of Van Gogh’s paintings are so vividly coloured may have been due to his habit of drinking absinthe – the enchanted and enchanting, psychotropic fluttering green fairy of Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Moulin Rouge!’  (2001). Van Gogh painted the scene from his bedroom window at the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in June 1889, after a severe mental breakdown. The stylised nature and exaggerated elements of the painting have prompted all sorts of speculation: astronomical, psychological, theological, etc. However, Van Gogh himself told his brother, Theo, that he thought the painting was a failure.

 

 

Overhead –

the starry night’s

absinthe-tinted glow.