Twin Fawns — Haiga for the Autumn Equinox

Twin Fawns Haiga - Autumn EquinoxOnce I decided to do a nature journal entry for the autumn equinox, it seemed as if every fallen leaf I saw was half-colored. There were probably just as many leaves with color all over, but the bifurcated ones drew my eye.

I’ve always liked spotty leaves. Even more so as the years pass, and I get spottier myself.

While collecting the leaves and thinking about spots, I remembered seeing a doe with her twin fawns in town, just a few days ago. It struck me that the fawns no longer had their spots.

Twin fawns, divided leaves, and this week’s harvest moon came together in a haiga for the autumn equinox.

Madrone Leaves Autumn Equinox

More bifurcated madrone leaves

About Margaret D. McGee

Comments

  1. a polka dot cat
    snoozing in the noonday sun
    a fly on her nose

  2. Marybeth Bland says:

    Rain slashes down
    my dog will not go out
    summer is over

    • Marybeth, our dog Bingo also hates to go out in the rain. Though, once we get him out and walking, he usually perks up and trots along fine. Then he has to be toweled off when we get home. And after that, he races around the house like a madman, working off all the excitement.

      between fronts
      a circle of new mushrooms
      catches the light

  3. I have a large deer population in my yard – sometimes as many as seventeen. They eat everything in sight. I grumble and groan about the damage until the fawns come along. The fawns’ liquid velvet eyes, small spotted bodies and dainty legs capture my heart and I forget they are plant eaters. I see a doe with a white mark on her leg. She is obviously pregnant. I keep my eye out for her so I will know when she has her baby. She disappears for a few days. When she reappears she is the proud mama of twins. I enjoy watching the three of them. They out hang out in my tree hedge. A couple of days go by when I don’t see them. A phone call informs me a car hit a doe and the doe is dead. Oh, I hope it isn’t the deer with the white mark on her leg. What will become of her twins if she is dead? I worry and fret until once again I see her and the twins. I breathe a sigh of relief. Spring and summer pass and fall is upon me. The fawns are young adults and I am muttering and sputtering again about their voracious appetites. In my heart I know no matter how much moaning and groaning I do, I love this circle.

    watchful eyes
    looking out the window
    a double rainbow

  4. Brad Offutt says:

    sun-red cloud streaks high
    above fall’s greying sea –
    Aphrodite gleams

    Tonight, after a hard mid-day rain, a beautiful sunset. And now it’s dark enough to see Venus, except here she’s Aphrodite.

  5. Marybeth Bland says:

    Margaret is there a way I can know others have added haiku ? Responses used to come into my email. Now it is not.

    I will check back tomorrow

    • Marybeth, thanks for asking.

      To receive email notification of comments for a particular post, you need to enter a comment for that post. But before you click “Post Comment,” you must click the check box underneath the comment box that says “Notify me of follow-up comments by email.” Then you’ll receive notification of comments for that post (not for other posts).

      There’s also a check box to receive email notification every time the Courtyard has a new post, like a new Lectio+Haiku posting for the new month. I believe you are already on that list. I’ll be making new postings this week, and you should receive notification when that happens.

      Remember, to receive follow-up comments, you need to set that box again for every new posting. That’s so your email doesn’t get cluttered up with comments on posts that you are not following.

      Hope that’s clear. I just tested it, and it worked for me. Let me know if you have problems.

      Margaret

  6. My family went on a beautiful fall bike ride last weekend. Every time my 9 year old daughter saw a caterpillar
    on the road she would yell “Caterpillar!” She hit the breaks, nearly wiping out. I wrote this little haiku to capture the moment.

    woolly bear – beware
    tires skid on loose gravel
    near catastrophe!