Who is Bashō, and why is he relevant to us today? What lessons do we receive from the haiku tradition in Japan from his time to the present about how to cultivate our personal, spiritual, and ecological relationships with the earth? How can the study of a simple square meter of earth teach us how to read and write? Can a haiku save the earth?
As set out to my plot of Earth, I carried with me an open mind to embrace all the new experiences it would provide me. The sun was setting on the last of summer, soon bringing autumn. The path I trek is narrow, rocky, and barely visible for all the tall grasses. The tall grasses felt like small knives on my skin. I walked over the pollution left behind. The life in this meter has adapted and overcome the obstacles the pollution caused initially. The symbiotic relationships throughout this small plot of Earth are enlightening. The ecosystem was at pure peace. When I got to the edge of the pond it was silent. No birds, no cars, no humans, no crickets, only the splash as one frog leaped into the pond. I marveled at the water striders dancing in sync with one another. As I glance at the water I see the reflection of the clouds, power lines, and building nearby.
Silence all around
Water striders dance in sync
Humans impact all
The once just murky water turned into a flawless mirror. I spent more time trying to understand the complexity and depth all in the silence surrounding me. In the words of Basho, found in "The Knapsack Notebook" (Sam Hamill's translation), “I found a deep sense of solidarity loneliness in the landscape. [...] Such a thought only illustrates my poverty of imagination." My personal connection to this plot was revealed in the fact that I had yet to look past the visual aspects of the pond. The spot revealed that it has a unified sense of loneliness like Basho found. I reflected on the idea that even though there was silence, it does not denote that there is peace. The everlasting effect of humans has changed not only this ecosystem, but all ecosystems forever.
&Austin Crabtree
Silence all around
Water striders dance in sync
Humans impact all
The once just murky water turned into a flawless mirror. I spent more time trying to understand the complexity and depth all in the silence surrounding me. In the words of Basho, found in "The Knapsack Notebook" (Sam Hamill's translation), “I found a deep sense of solidarity loneliness in the landscape. [...] Such a thought only illustrates my poverty of imagination." My personal connection to this plot was revealed in the fact that I had yet to look past the visual aspects of the pond. The spot revealed that it has a unified sense of loneliness like Basho found. I reflected on the idea that even though there was silence, it does not denote that there is peace. The everlasting effect of humans has changed not only this ecosystem, but all ecosystems forever.
&Austin Crabtree
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Removed from the coop
One less chicken for myself a fox feeding pups &Will Kiser I’ve felt the fresh dirt and sweat under the hot sun. Can you say the same? &Allison Hamilton |
As green turns to brown
Does it represent new life Or the end of one? &Brandon Stetkiewicz The leaves are falling I grab my bow and arrow Southwest Virginia &Will Kiser |
In a red apple
a boneless creature appears to chew through the core. &Will Kiser It takes each weak leaf Leaving branches bare and cold Do you hear the wind? &Catherine Martin |
"Reading Katsuro Nobuko" by Shay Reynolds
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Rain brings the lightness
Hidden beneath a dark cloud Refreshing old life &Abigail Mayo Change can not be stopped The leaves, the breeze, the birds, all Feel that change is here &Adam Carrico |
but what of our life’s
simple In-Between moments lost to the Importants &Marie Mitchell Screaming eagles fly long for escape and freedom dreams of a young boy &Davon Keith |
Silence calling me
Clarity can now be heard Ducks heard in silence &Abigail Mayo Bushy tail flickers Gnawing sound up in tree Acorns are falling &Monroe Sparks |
As I kneeled down at the cement corner that marks my square meter, I noticed that I almost sat on a small black beetle. I let him carry on to his destination and sit once everything is clear. The moss in my meeter is even greener since my last visit, likely from the recent rain. Small red berries from the dogwood tree above dotted the ground. I gently picked one up and rolled it around in my palm, admiring the brilliantly red surface of this amazing feat of science and evolution. How amazing it is, I wondered, that life exists on Earth at all, and how it’s adapted and blossomed into what it is today. From every animal to leaves and berries, every component of nature is such an astounding creation molded by chance, advantage, and practicality.
“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” -Buddha
I also wondered, much less eloquently, if I could die if I ate enough of those berries. (I decided to follow my better judgment and not find out firsthand). Laughing at my own expense, I jotted down a haiku:
Small crimson berry
Could you or your red brothers
Take my precious life?
Returning the berry, I traced my hands along the cool, rough surface of the concrete, almost rolling over a solitary ant (aren’t you cold, little guy?) who seemed unconcerned with the presence of my fingertips. Doing this, I also brushed against several fallen dogwood leaves, marking the presence of autumn.
&Marie Mitchell
“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” -Buddha
I also wondered, much less eloquently, if I could die if I ate enough of those berries. (I decided to follow my better judgment and not find out firsthand). Laughing at my own expense, I jotted down a haiku:
Small crimson berry
Could you or your red brothers
Take my precious life?
Returning the berry, I traced my hands along the cool, rough surface of the concrete, almost rolling over a solitary ant (aren’t you cold, little guy?) who seemed unconcerned with the presence of my fingertips. Doing this, I also brushed against several fallen dogwood leaves, marking the presence of autumn.
&Marie Mitchell
"Field Notes" by Shay Reynolds
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Sad understanding
Nature suffers the knowledge Power can't help now & Conner Selecman Feel like Kousa's leaves Drip, drop, drippity drip drop Something needs to change &Ashley Moore Autumn, ginkgo leaves line the path like cookie crumbs. Now find your way home. &Felicia Mitchell |
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Darkness is Life
As I travel into tranquility, the presence of the cold fall air bites at my epithelial tissue. The air is too cold for the ducks to sleep as yellow and brown leaves cover all areas of my travel. The ground is moist and cold as the heart of a widow no longer wishing to live while the presence of winter approaches. Life presents its self as crickets chirp a harmonious melody, alternating songs from left to right as performing an orchestra. Bluegrass and a large white spruce tree exhibit life, placing all of its greenery on display for all to see. The night is as dark as death, no stars or moon in sight as death started kissing life. Leaves of oak trees strive to live as they cover their lover like a worn-out wool coat. The green grassy turf is no longer alone as yellow and brown blankets float to the ground like feathers, tucking the bluegrass and crabgrass in for the night. The presence of life-ending is tickling my vertebrae as it creeps up my spine and chills my entire body. My tea no longer expresses the warmth of life as my hands prevent it from gaining any warmth. &Arthur Yancey |
 "Watching Youtube Videos with the Shamisen" By Conner Selecman
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Bright sunlight, slicing through the thick canopy of Tulip Poplar and Red Oak, illuminates the forest with a soft green and yellow glow. The forest buzzes with activity as insects and birds fly about. Birds flit about high among the branches and call to each other. Carolina Wrens, occupying the understory, pester one another with their nasal territorial calls. American Goldfinches and Carolina Chickadees can be heard singing high up in the canopy. A Pileated Woodpecker swoops from tree to tree on an endless search for food; its claws and beak can be heard scratching and pounding the dry bark. A White-Breasted Nuthatch, also creeping along the bark, moves along the trunk upside-down in search of insects. Above the forest a Turkey Vulture rides the rising warm air higher and higher into the sky. Some of these birds are beginning to prepare for their Autumn migration. Basho (Sam Hamill's translation) writes about this very thing:
This autumn- why
am I growing old?
bird disappearing among clouds.
Cicadas scream out their trilling call in the canopy; the noise is almost deafening. Small insects, emblazoned by sunlight, float aimlessly throughout the forest like tiny lanterns. Bright yellow leaves fall slowly toward the ground, appearing as bright neon letters. A glaringly white spiderweb catches a brown, dead leaf as it falls; it is now held in limbo, waiting for its final destination. The forest floor is decorated by these brown leaves and is noticeably dry. Each step taken is met by brittle crackles and crunches as the dry leaves disintegrate.
Yellow leaves fall slow
Signaling that Autumn comes
or they die from thirst?
&Blake Logan
This autumn- why
am I growing old?
bird disappearing among clouds.
Cicadas scream out their trilling call in the canopy; the noise is almost deafening. Small insects, emblazoned by sunlight, float aimlessly throughout the forest like tiny lanterns. Bright yellow leaves fall slowly toward the ground, appearing as bright neon letters. A glaringly white spiderweb catches a brown, dead leaf as it falls; it is now held in limbo, waiting for its final destination. The forest floor is decorated by these brown leaves and is noticeably dry. Each step taken is met by brittle crackles and crunches as the dry leaves disintegrate.
Yellow leaves fall slow
Signaling that Autumn comes
or they die from thirst?
&Blake Logan
"Square Meter in Autumn" by Catherine Martin
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Soothing dove cooing
conflicting with a stone mind a prison for you &Shay Reynolds Bright blue up above Dazzling green sits at my feet Beneath, find decay &Meghan Truslow The land surrenders Bowing down and making peace Why do we love Fall? &Austin Crabtree |
Nature tells the world
Teaching big and small lessons Gaining a new view &Catherine Martin Insect songs in trees There hiding places blown away All becomes quiet &Monroe Sparks I may have missed the morning glories, but ahead is something better &Megan Truslow |
Upon this last journey to my tiny corner of tucked away beauty, I think about how we have both grown throughout the past few months. This space has triumphed through the hardships cast upon its delicate features. Green has become more vibrant, growing through the dead brown leaves, through the bright white snow, through the cold bite of winter. How does it remain strong in the face of adversity? I draw the conclusion that it’s because this space has a strong support system: the warmth of the adjacent building. We all need a heat source in our lives, whether it comes from friends, family, a happy memory, a favorite song, an eye-catching sunset…. This space has reminded me to cherish the good things in life because that’s what we as humans feed off of. The dead leaves remind me that nothing lasts forever. The clean snow covering those leaves reminds me that there are still pure moments in life that need to be appreciated before they pass us by.
Moments melt away,
Cherished and not forgotten.
Grateful for the warmth.
Below is a picture of everything I remembered about my spot since the beginning.
&Allison Hamilton
Moments melt away,
Cherished and not forgotten.
Grateful for the warmth.
Below is a picture of everything I remembered about my spot since the beginning.
&Allison Hamilton
"Field Project, Summer into Winter" by Allison Hamilton
その他の俳句 and other haiku. 2019. Issue Number 8
a production of ETLA 307, Bashō & Beyond, at Emory & Henry College, Virginia
writers & artists retain all rights to their work
a production of ETLA 307, Bashō & Beyond, at Emory & Henry College, Virginia
writers & artists retain all rights to their work
