Haibun is a Japanese form of prose and poetry (haiku) together. I’m joining Victoria with dVerse Poets writing haibun about “first frost’s voice” (shimo no koe).
We actively anticipate the first frost of fall, working as a team ahead of the weather’s uncertain clock. The last tomatoes, some green ones, must be claimed off the vines and colorful peppers plucked from dying garden. This home-grown produce is chopped with harvested onions into tantalizing picante sauce to be admired in pint jars on shelf before smeared on tortilla chips.
Our prodigious pair of apple trees generously offer basketfuls of blushing fruit to family and friends willing to pick. The dropped or blemished fruit are treats rolled under fence to eager cows. Contentment wafts on spiced fragrance of apple-pie-in-a-jar syrup that simmers in large pot on basement stove. Steam from water bath canner spreads warm humidity indoors.
Fall rain dampens farmers’ spirits, swells soybeans in their pods, and muddies fields. “A killing frost is what we need” for corn stalks to die so matured ears plump with kernels can be harvested. The farmer checks weather forecast every night. At last, it steals in with the dawn, silently smothering the grass and finishing off the last droopy flowers.
icing on orchard
may ruin or ripen crops
winter’s first whisper
photo by lynn
