A Cherry Blossom Fell Among the Silver Firs

 

It fell so early.  Or late, depending on how you look at it.  We’d not lived in the house for a full year, but storms don’t wait until you’re settled.  At least not in my experience.  By comparison, it wasn’t as dramatic as the enormous fir to clip our roof when it went down.  But I mourned it more, that cherry blossom.  It was so cheery and hopeful, and I really needed that.  But, I learned, as storm winds blow, petals float, refresh like dew, and make way for new things to grow. 

 

dropping like tears

cherry blossom petals

nourish seeds for tomorrow

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

For dVerse Haibun Monday

Day 28 NPM

 

Haibunyum

Planted, it grew.  As seeds are supposed to do.  Water (of course), dark (sandy loam preferred), light (direct, for several hours a day). But it was a potato and not technically a seed.  And, therefore, a little safer from chickadees.  What it grew into once baked (or twice), au gratin-ed, mashed, fried, gnocci-ed, latke-d, made some t-uber good comfort food.  And without getting too chippy about it. . .

 

haiku na ma tuber tot

means no eating

a potato seed

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

What’s Going On?  Seed (or in this case, not one ;-P)

Day 18

 

Hot Pink October

 

© 2023 Jennifer Wagner

It’s still a few weeks away from the yellow-gray of November.  And even further from here.  In the desert, the air has shifted to cooler—not 118, but now 80.  The heat is more of a hug than a grizzly’s maul.  The Valley of the Sun is not cool and dreary come autumn.  It’s a valley of a different color.  Kind color—sweet, perhaps.  And it feels more like the mountaintop.  After all, we survived summer. 

 

bougainvillea

a wave of color

at summer’s finish line

 

 

© 2023 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

dVerse Haibun Monday: Fall foliage or Spring blossoms

(I’m posting too late for the link.) 

OLN