Haiku Monday

Tags

adoption, Adoption recovery, awareness, birds, haiku, Nature, reflectiveness, Snow, Winter

In dealing with adoption questions such as, Are my “real” parents my adoptive mom and dad or the parents who are biologically related to me?, I’ve learned that a lot depends on perspective. Some people, especially those living in the harsher climes, look at winter as tedious, dreary, uncomfortable. Others, ignoring the cold, choose to notice the beauty. Today’s guest blogger and poet Roberta Fine has adopted the season in all its loveliness. She’s chosen details that feed the spirit and imagination. As we begin the shortest days of the year, enjoy her Haiku Scenes of Winter…

Baldy disappears

Above the Clouds

Behind descending veil–

Birds crowd feeder.

****************

Brown, wrinkled, puffy–

Frozen apples still on tree

Feed the winter birds.

*****************

Ravens trail coyote,

Hoping he’s a good hunter,

Will leave leftovers.

****************

Cooking up a stew—

Birds aren’t the only ones who like apples even if they’re frozen.

Sunlight streaming through window

In my warm kitchen.

****************

Mountain emerges

From cloud in late afternoon—

Sparkling, massive jewel.

***************

Winter moon shining

Softly on violet snow—

Dogs barking to come in.

******************

Shopping for some bread

In the store a stranger’s smile

Brightens the cold, grey day.

******************

Cutting wind shakes trees.

Scatters seeds from bird feeder.

Birds peck through ice film.

**********************

NOTE FROM ELAINE: Adoption issues occupied up my psychological “real estate” for too many years. It was more than time to transcend them, to wake up and live more positively. Christmas and the holiday season, I propose, offer the perfect time to shed any self-images that tarnish and corrode. The luminosity of Roberta Fine’s winter haikus reminded me of the world’s beauty.  What are YOUR favorite winter images? I’d love to hear about them! Please comment below or reach me on Twitter @TheGoodbyeBaby.

See the world through adoption-colored glasses-Every other Monday.

 

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How to Adopt Winter

Tags

adoptee, adoption, Hiking, national adoption month, outdoors, Robert Frost, Snow, Solitude, trails, Winter

NOTE FROM ELAINE: I’m preparing for a book promotion tour, leaving for Amelia Island and a debut for SANTA FE ON FOOT. So, dear readers, this is a replay for a post I published originally two years ago. Enjoy!

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Today we awakened to fresh snow. It continued, for hours, snowing off and on. In the high mountain country of the Southwest, snowfall brings a welcome transformation. Instead of autumnal brown, sere, scruffy terrain of the recent months, we now view snow-covered pinons, the nearby Rocky Mountain foothills hooded in white, everything fresh and pristine.  I am drawn to Robert Frost’s musing on the silence of the woods, the solitude of his horse-drawn sleigh journey, the temptation to linger in the stillness contrasted with the needs of the day. So here on this snowbound day, I offer you, dear readers, one of my favorite poems…
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Path to Raven’s Ridge, Santa Fe, NM

By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Winter often arrives early here in Santa Fe. This Autumn, it came just in time for “Take a Hike” Day, officially November 17th. Whatever your favorite seasonal way to be outdoors, put on your skis, snowshoes, or your best hiking boots, and tromp away those Monday Blues.

Follow Elaine’s Monday musings on adoption and life.

Alone

Tags

Adoption. Adoptee, Alone, Gift, Graupel, Snow, Solitude, Winter

Of all the “A” words in the adoptee’s lexicon, one of the hardest is “Alone.” 

A venerable old tree on Canyon Road- photo by Beth Stephens

How often we may have heard the saying, “We’re born alone and we die alone,” and deep down we know that being sometimes alone is simply part of life.

To the adopted self, however, “alone” can conjure up feelings of abandonment and rejection. Our original parents could or would not keep us, and even though we may never have been actually alone, we did not feel that we belonged to anyone. I can speak only for myself, but as I meet others looking at the world through adoption-colored glasses, this  perception of “alone” seems to be common. However, one morning’s experience can change everything, which is what happened in the following episode…

Place: Santa Fe National Forest.
Time: A few days ago.
Action: Snowshoeing up Aspen Vista Road with my son.

The weather prediction was for clouds, sun, and “occasional showers.” We started at 9:30 a.m. up the winding uphill forest road that ended in five miles at cluster of radio towers. Our goal was not to reach the top but to be out for half a day. I urged my son to snowshoe on ahead…he’d easily catch up with me on his way down. Fresh snow festooned shrubs, grasses, big rocks. The air was frigid, the sky a combination of gray, blue and white.
My son disappeared around a bend and I was suddenly solo. Every five minutes or so, I stopped to listen to the solitude.  No apparent wind, but nonetheless the trees made a barely audible “shushing” sound. Whenever the sun came out, crystal-like sparkles appeared on snow billows that bordered both sides of the road. Minutes after an interlude of sunshine, it started to graupel.
Note: according to Wikipedia, Graupel refers to precipitation that forms when

The hushed stillness of a morning in late winter

supercooled droplets of water are collected and freeze on a falling snowflake, forming a 2–5 mm ball of rime. Strictly speaking, graupel is not the same as hail or ice pellets.
Neither snow nor rain, graupel is a phenomenon worth recognizing when it happens. That morning, it served as the perfect metaphor. Just as graupel is like snow but not the same thing, being alone is not being lonely. The thought filled me with inexplicable joy, as I realized that this was time to just breathe, snowshoe and soak up the beauty around me. The sky eventually cleared and turned from eggshell blue to deep indigo.
I reached the end of the hike having covered less territory than my son,  However, I felt that I’d been out for many, many miles. My take on being alone had flipped from morose to euphoric. In today’s noisy, overcrowded, frenetic world, solitude is increasingly a luxury. In the hours of one morning I came to realize that one can be alone without being lonesome, and that was a gift.

Join Elaine  for observations about adoption and life!