That spreading live oak and the dry grasses, plus the redwoods guarding make me thing you may be in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Wherever you and Vivian are, be well and feel the love coming your way!
I am in California. But I am a ways west of the Sierra Nevada.
I never give good enough clues when I do these find Waldo (Holly and Ruby, now Vivian) posts. For example, I could have said that I’m near the Russian river. And I could have said the last of the three haiku is clue heavy about the place. And I could’ve said that the biggest clue is in the form. But probably not even all of those hints would be enough unless you really know this place well. Ha! I still appreciate you guessing. And I will reveal next week.
Thank you, Susan. We both feel the love. And we sent it back in your direction.
Omg. This reads so much like one of Charlie’s poems! I can’t put my finger on why, something about the keen observation that worries a precious stone of presence between each stanza. Turning it over each time to reveal something new.
This moment makes me brain so happy and I may not even be reading it as intended, but to me, that cow’s eyes, slow and warm, his lids and woven lashes fall heavily under golden sun, alternating blinks with long chews and licks of glorious grass and vine.
Aw! To have my words compared to Charlie’s. I think I could have no better compliment. Thank you, Kimberly.
And you are reading it right. The cow, stopping just outside my window, those liquid brown eyes under the bright sun was restorative and made me happy to be alive.
. . . blinks with those round, soft eyes, just like the cows I see when I venture out of my cornfield. Wonderful capture - such beautiful imagery overall!
— these five words say so much! You painted such a picture. One we’ve all seen ourselves. One that we may not have even realised soothed us when we saw it until you made it so starkly clear to us.
I also love the idea of clues!
I don’t know America well enough to take a guess, but wherever you are it’s sounds soothingly peaceful.
Oh no, is Viv flashing her head lights and batting her heavy eyelashes at a cow? If so, you are in trouble, she’ll want to stick around for a while. I do love your writing, Holly. Not sure where you are but I’m concerned there is a forest fire off in the distance. Marisol has such a unique and wonderful ability to breathe in words and exhale a poem that always, beautifully, sums it all up.
"vines curl, redwoods guard"
May they guard you well dear Holly ♥️
Thank you, thank you. They’re doing a pretty good job so far. 🥰
"ambling in curing grasses" --what a grand phrase and experience!
Thank you, Mary. I really like the term “curing grasses” for the way they turn gold and mustard and flaxen here in summertime.
That spreading live oak and the dry grasses, plus the redwoods guarding make me thing you may be in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Wherever you and Vivian are, be well and feel the love coming your way!
I am in California. But I am a ways west of the Sierra Nevada.
I never give good enough clues when I do these find Waldo (Holly and Ruby, now Vivian) posts. For example, I could have said that I’m near the Russian river. And I could have said the last of the three haiku is clue heavy about the place. And I could’ve said that the biggest clue is in the form. But probably not even all of those hints would be enough unless you really know this place well. Ha! I still appreciate you guessing. And I will reveal next week.
Thank you, Susan. We both feel the love. And we sent it back in your direction.
Omg. This reads so much like one of Charlie’s poems! I can’t put my finger on why, something about the keen observation that worries a precious stone of presence between each stanza. Turning it over each time to reveal something new.
This moment makes me brain so happy and I may not even be reading it as intended, but to me, that cow’s eyes, slow and warm, his lids and woven lashes fall heavily under golden sun, alternating blinks with long chews and licks of glorious grass and vine.
of blinks
weaving felled by gold
trade dulled reach of seven tongues
Aw! To have my words compared to Charlie’s. I think I could have no better compliment. Thank you, Kimberly.
And you are reading it right. The cow, stopping just outside my window, those liquid brown eyes under the bright sun was restorative and made me happy to be alive.
Eastern CA
Sun, Oak, Redwoods, vines…
happy Cow, gold trade, haikus!
California roll?
What a beautiful poem, I really needed it today. Thank you.
Thank you for this, Holly.
Light flashes alarm? Vivian lazes near oak. Is this because she cannot move?
Is this why you had to stay longer than intended?
Or is the curing of the grasses necessary for you?
But I hope that you and Vivian are both well, and that lengthier stay is for lovelier reason.
Anyway, whatever the reason, may the redwoods guard you well.
"cow lulls, flicks tail, blinks"
. . . blinks with those round, soft eyes, just like the cows I see when I venture out of my cornfield. Wonderful capture - such beautiful imagery overall!
“cow lulls, flicks tail, blinks”
— these five words say so much! You painted such a picture. One we’ve all seen ourselves. One that we may not have even realised soothed us when we saw it until you made it so starkly clear to us.
I also love the idea of clues!
I don’t know America well enough to take a guess, but wherever you are it’s sounds soothingly peaceful.
Thanks friend :)
Oh no, is Viv flashing her head lights and batting her heavy eyelashes at a cow? If so, you are in trouble, she’ll want to stick around for a while. I do love your writing, Holly. Not sure where you are but I’m concerned there is a forest fire off in the distance. Marisol has such a unique and wonderful ability to breathe in words and exhale a poem that always, beautifully, sums it all up.
“weaving felled by gold” — took by breath away