na-sma-sto-mo 2011


The dynamic Fiona Robyn, creator of a small stone and a handful of stones directed this fabulous project, during January 2011 to encourage as many people as possible to write a small stone every day. You can read about the project, which attracted participants from all over the world, on a river of stones.

These are my 'stones' for the month, written every day, occasionally clumsy, but still a record of moments and thoughts I might have missed if I hadn't taken part.


1.
a flock of birds twists
against a grey and pink sky
I say I'm sorry

Comments:
Fiona Robyn said... what a powerful start. looking forward to reading more, what a treat!


2.
tidal waters
the shadow of a palm tree
slips over the dock


3.
north wind seabirds fly into its face

Comments:
jem said... Browsing through the stones - this one jumped out at me - great to follow the link and find I recognise the author! Happy stoning!



4.
sunrise: the light
in my neighbour's house
goes off

Comments:
Kirsten Cliff said... I really like this. Great observation, and your line breaks are spot on! Thanks for sharing :)


5.
bonsai:
look how small
we have become

Comments:
jem said... I like this - the way it plays with size notions - made me smile. I started a new blog especially for my stones at http://soundofshingle.blogspot.com/

LauraX said... small...like grains of sand and connected like an endless beach...one touching another, touching another, touching another and so on...and so are smallness becomes a vastness of unity moved by the tide and the winds of time.

Sue said... gorgeous, full of meaning to be unpacked.


6.
They remind me of exotic finches, the old ladies, in their turquoise and black pants suits, their lips painted red, their white hair coiffeured and laquered: their tiny bones weighed down with two many bright feathers. They cling to each other as they totter on each step towards the Museum's doors, then stop at the top to look behind them, at the lake with its reflections of sky and trees. If I clapped my hands suddenly, they might take flight, rising over the umbrella pines and bamboo grove, their wings stretching in the warm air as if they'd never feared falling, never doubted that earthbound was just a passing phase.

Comments:
jem said... Lovely to enjoy one of your haibun. It made my mind jump to the Arkansas dead blackbirds which suddenly seem like old ladies fallen in the streets.

yakihoshi said... I really like this haibun, it creates such a strong mental image. Lovely words.


7.
end of the holiday
an extra squirt of syrup
on my pancakes

Comments:
jem said... Made me smile - these little treats we give ourselves!

Kirsten Cliff said... Yes, made me smile, too! Thanks for sharing, Lynne :)


8.
cold snap
this morning's sky
quilted with clouds

Comments:
LauraX said... quilted with clouds...beautiful description.

Dianne said... This is wonderful! Thanks for following me!

Keith Wallis said... This one is splendid.


9.
new year
the moon like a saucer of light
and all this sky

Comments:
Dianne said... Lovely! Are you in Florida?

Kelly (at Stars and Willows) said... I love this! Simple, pure, and full of wonder.


10.
wind rushes
though the palms
packing for home

Comments:
Crafty Green Poet said... that's very poignant


11.
awake too early
trees shrouded in mist
the slow tick of a clock

Comments:
Yvonne said... Yep, been there. Lovely stone as usual.

Sue said... just perfect, captures that (all too frequent) moment so well.

kkrige said... I like this one best from the stones I can see :) You create an image and feeling that resonates well


12.
take-off:
the widening surprise
in the toddler's eyes


13.
at the roundabout
the smell of the sea -
home

Comments:
MorningAJ said... Oh I wish! I live a long way from the sea these days but I still think of it as home.


14.
new year resolution...
the handbrake on the car
continues to stick

Comments:
Greyscale Territory said... Wonderful, wry humour in this one!

Crafty Green Poet said... excellent!

Kirsten Cliff said... Found myself nodding my head along with this one. Great!


15.
making soup
my hands could be
my mother's hands

Comments:
Cynthia said... Hello Lynne, Ah...what our mothers pass on to us. I am enjoying your writing in "An Open Field" for the "River of Stones" and "Hungry Writer" blogs. Today's posts go perfectly together. You make the enjoyment of preparing and eating food a spiritual experience. I stumbled onto your "Hungry Writer" and love reading it. I want to try your "Mam's Vegetable Soup" and the "Salmon Risotto." It is good to find you. And thank you for following me as well.

Barb said... Me, too - and glad of it!

Dianne said... Lovely....


16.
wondering what to write...
outside the kitchen window
a gull laughs and laughs

Comments:
Fiona Robyn said... made me smile!

Yvonne said... I love that! :)

Dianne said... I've heard that laugh!

Melissa said... Lovely to have found you. Thanks for following my blog!


17.
the damp stain on the wall
only looks like a damp stain -

Monday morning

Comments:

LauraX said... hmmm...

annrap said... I see it as a trace that you are aware of and that it can change at any moment. Something there without form, appearing disappearing, growing shifting, close you eyes and open them again perhaps you can see something else?

annrap said... An interesting show in Japan on the stain.I like the accidental nature of a stains appearance http://www.tokyoartbeat.com/tablog/entries.en/2010/07/meaningful-stain.html


18.
bread, cheese, wine:
what we say to each other
less important than what we do



19.
start again:
a fresh egg
in the palm
of my hand


Comments:
LauraX said... to beginnings...ever present.

Barb said... And the beginning of a day.

poppy.f.seed said... I have an egg in the hand poem, also. Love the image.


20.
20th day
reading the moments
I didn't miss



21.
home-made ice-cream...
those summer days measured
by the chimes of the Tonibel van


Comments:
LauraX said... summer sounds so good right now...I miss the simplicity of kids at home and warmth and waking up when our bodies are ready.

Dianne said... This brought back memories... We so looked forward to the daily rounds of the ice cream truck...


22.
he sleeps through
the tea I leave for him,

the boy he must have been

Comments:
Dianne said... Lovely stone...

wrensong said... Entirely lovely. The waiting tea, the sleeping innocence of the man.


23.
the cat shifts
from sunspot to sunspot
Sunday morning


24.
sun a little higher
the slab of ice
in the wheelbarrow
starts to melt

Comments:

Man Price said... Love: --the slab of ice in the wheelbarrow-- You paint a great picture.



25.
a stray cat
asleep under the orange tree
all morning
I have wondered about
where I will live

Comments:
wrensong said... The orange tree and the cat holding a mirror up to my anxiousness. Lovely.





26.
dustballs everywhere
our first summer guests
confirm their flights

Comments:
Gillena Cox said... i have been reading and enjoying your blog for a week now; much love...


27.
stormlight
the cat tightens
into a ball


Comments:
Kirsten Cliff said... I'm enjoying your work, or should that be play... I see you're going to take part in NaHaiWriMo, so look forward to reading much more over the coming month. Many thanks for sharing :)



28.
Such stuff as dreams are made on...


 


I spend the day repainting the kitchen ceiling, the wall in the boiler room, then climb the step ladder to cover the damp stains below the ceiling in the guest bedroom with what looks like liquid plastic. My throat prickles. That night I visit a school in Brazil where the kids carry bats and knives and guns and my Sebastian hair serum turns my hair from blonde to the colour of an early sunset which isn’t that bad and better than finding my wrecked car on the school grounds and the £60 bill to repair my shopping trolley when the price for a new one is only £50 and while I don’t want to be part of the ‘throw-away and buy-new’ culture this just doesn’t make sense.


29.
no-one to blame
a shutter bangs in the night


Comments:
Hussam said... I can't explain why, but I like this!



30.
Go, Murray!
I have an extra
weetabix for breakfast


31.
unexpected warmth
the shadows of birds
over the new grass