I paint a path through a bamboo forest... sentimentality
--Tsanka Shishkova (Sofia, Bulgaria)

* * *

Once upon a time
we thought plastic bags
would save the forest
--Don Krieger (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)

* * *

in and out
of a knothole nest
acorn woodpecker
--Marcie Wessels (San Diego, California)

* * *

The crunch of
fallen maple leaves...
pink mitten
--Jessica Allyson (Ottawa, Canada)

* * *

cultured, twisted tree
Kyoto hotel garden
nature imagined
--John G. Gilbertson (Greenville, South Carolina)

* * *

Misty rain--
an old stump blooming
with mushrooms
--Satoru Kanematsu (Nagoya)

* * *

armoured beetle
elite of the insect world
worrying in a dream
--Francis Attard (Marsa, Malta)

* * *

out on the bicycle
elderberries ripening
in splashes
--C.X. Turner (Birmingham, England)

* * *

yellow tree steady
drop-dripping water torture
keep coming back, rake
--Jerome Berglund (Minneapolis, Minnesota)

* * *

Fading trees whisper:
every lacey leaf I sweep
the closer we fall
--Mary Louise Kiernan (Rock Tavern, New York)

------------------------------
FROM THE NOTEBOOK
------------------------------

I feel so small
Under towering trees
Of mighty oaks
--Anne-Marie McHarg (London, England)

The haikuist volunteered to escort the London Blind Ramblers for a walk on the wild side along a trail to Epping Forrest. Giuliana Ravaglia picked up her pace in Bologna, Italy.

jogging...
crackling of leaves
under the oaks

Corinne Timmer celebrated Beaujolais Nouveau Day in Faro, Portugal.

flowering flame tree--
we order another glass of wine

Deborah A. Bennett walked down Pleasant Hill Road through Marberry Arboretum before heading home to Carbondale, Illinois.

the bamboo path
few people use it--
scarlet dragonflies

* * *

blossoms by the road--
on my sleeve
i carry the fragrance home

Small trees tinted gold with hues of sweet “kinmokusei” blossoms brightened Masumi Orihara’s daily walk in Atsugi, Kanagawa Prefecture.

on an orange wind
whistling through gardens
fragrant olive filled

Francoise Maurice has a keen sense of smell in Draguignan, France. Melanie Vance methodically tasted the sight and nose of wine from a flute-shaped glass in Dallas, Texas.

forest trail
before the joggers’ voices
their smell

* * *

slowly breathing
in flute’s shape
color of rose

Wieslaw Karlinski found the perfect spot to alight from a bus in Namyslow, Poland.

country bus
I get off there
where apple trees bloom

Maire Morrissey Cummins enjoyed a traditional Gaelic tale echoed by a storyteller in Glengarriff, Ireland. Mike Gallagher sketched an autumn scene in Ballyduff, Ireland.

the stories
she weaves--
wild honeysuckle

* * *

wild geese
grandkids slosh through puddles
in the lane

Vipanjeet Kaur sketched an everyday scene in her back courtyard where a guava tree grows in Chandigarh, India. Birds like its shade and she loves to feed them crumbs.

hopping birds
pecking at grains, morn
in my courtyard

B.A. France planned a camping trip in Annapolis, Maryland.

fireside chat
adding details to
the map

Joseph P. Wechselberger wrote these two haiku while camping at Mirror Lake in Browns Mills, New Jersey.

gathering wood
to start the campfire
micromoon

* * *

a log settles
in the campfire
shooting stars

Pat Geyer shivered in East Brunswick, New Jersey.

a moment of frost...
the campfire is melting
the glow disappears

Ann Wambui is a secondary school student member of the Kenya Saijiki haiku club.

lingering cold--
sitting at our fireplace
petting our dog

Keith Evetts experienced this haiku moment in Belgium, noting “as long as there are wars, I will never forget the impact of the fields and graveyards of Flanders.”

ripening wheat fields
a poppy for each boy
who won’t come home

Turner was inspired to write this haiku by spending time in the English countryside.

red poppies
a ripening grain field
and us

This fall, tornadoes uprooted untold numbers of large trees from parks, roadsides and home gardens across Europe. Lothar M. Kirsch is a rheumatologist in Meerbusch, Germany.

The trembling poplar
is not shivering
just yellow leaves

Kanematsu noted that when Japanese rhinoceros beetles die in autumn, children are encouraged to treat the carapace of the pet insects with great care before arranging a funeral to bury it.
a beetle
treasured by grandson
even dead

Luciana Moretto lost her treasure in Treviso, Italy. The haikuist’s husband, an entomologist, discovered a nest of violet carpenter bees in a fallen dead tree.

hard climate
the theft of a jewel
gold beetle

* * *

Xylocopa violacea...
his winter heart
melts

Maya Daneva decamped in The Netherlands.

late evening
setting free the mosquitoes
trapped in my tent

Felled trees mean sparser blossoms next spring, less shade in summer, fewer colored leaves in fall, and thinner piles of leaves in winter. It also means that special trees could be lost, for example, the one with spiky horse chestnut shells that Turner wrote about as a prominent backdrop in this haiku memory.

conkers ripening
along late summer lanes
hand in hand

Reforestation can slow climate change by locking away planet-warming carbon dioxide, but which trees should be replanted? Despite rainy weather on the last weekend of October, 80 participants took a “Tree Talks & Walks” guided tour in Killarney Park, Vancouver, to view dawn redwood trees and learn which tree species are chosen for planting projects. Bob Friedland penned this haiku in Richmond, British Columbia.

Sparrows see lightning
Without electricity,
And eat grapes without wine

Krieger dedicated this haiku to Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.

leaf clad stone ramparts
phoenix trees at river’s fork
deciduous souls

Some arborists advocate big tree farms for carbon storage and timber. Others call for planting fruit trees on small-scale farms. And some say it’s best to allow native species to rewild and regenerate. Attard knows which trees are needed in the saline coastal waters around Marsa, Malta.

fight climate change
replant mangroves
birds flocking in

Charlie Smith reported on a soil science experiment that he conducted in Raleigh, North Carolina.

coffee on one side
woodstove ash on the other
pink/blue hortensia

Marta Chocilowska observed new twigs form as reddish-cone shaped buds on a tree. When fully developed, sycamore and maple leaves are shaped like hands.

a pitiless sun
the sycamore leaves
cone-shaped

This month in Cordoba, Argentina, Julia Guzman sniffed fragrant purple orchids nestled among double-lobed leaves that resemble a cow’s footprint.

The cow hoof trees
start blooming--
the song of tiny birds

Mike Fainzilber faced pitiless wind-blown sands and stingers in the Negev Desert, Israel.

desert wind
fine fine dust
and a wasp homing in on the wine

Victor Mumo knows from experience how fickle the weather can be in November. He is a university freshman who lives in a semi-arid climate some distance from Nairobi, Kenya.

lingering cold--
I carry my sweater
though the sun’s hot

Naliaka Esther, a graduate from the University of Nairobi with a degree in urban planning and development, said that “during her studies, she had been out and about a lot, experiencing the weather at all times of year and in various regions of Kenya.”

lingering cold--
I take my sweater off
in the sudden heat

Sylvia Naliaka wrote this haiku at a meeting of the Kenya Saijiki haiku club. Leading the group, Isabelle Prondzynski suggested members write about the lingering cold in Nairobi.

the sun sets
behind a black cloud--
lingering cold

Mary L. Leopkey attached a pearl-white decoration to a tree.

morning moon
atop a lone fir
Christmas tree

Prondzynski prayed for it to rain before Christmas though, noting: “We have had two very dry years, with failing rains, and parts of the country are suffering famine, with even the camels dying.” Elijah Kyalo took pity on farmyard fowl.

lingering cold--
a hen covers her chicks
with her feathers

After the haiku meeting ended, James Okada helped his teacher close the classroom windows. Ian Maina worried about getting home safely.

lingering cold--
closing the open windows
one more time

* * *

lingering cold--
the driver cannot see
through the fog

McHarg walked until she was lost in thought. Gilbertson lost all sense of time.

Thoughtfulness
Deepens into autumn shades
Woodland walks

* * *

a little wine
and it’s a time
that never was

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next issues of the Asahi Haikuist Network appear on Dec. 2, 16 and 30. Readers are invited to send haiku about whale songs, a festive ditty, or a carol on a postcard to David McMurray at the International University of Kagoshima, Sakanoue 8-34-1, Kagoshima, 891-0197, Japan, or by e-mail to (mcmurray@fka.att.ne.jp).

* * *

David McMurray has been writing the Asahi Haikuist Network column since April 1995, first for the Asahi Evening News. He is on the editorial board of the Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku, columnist for the Haiku International Association, and is editor of Teaching Assistance, a column in The Language Teacher of the Japan Association for Language Teaching (JALT).

McMurray is professor of intercultural studies at The International University of Kagoshima where he lectures on international haiku. At the Graduate School he supervises students who research haiku. He is a correspondent school teacher of Haiku in English for the Asahi Culture Center in Tokyo.

McMurray judges haiku contests organized by The International University of Kagoshima, Ito En Oi Ocha, Asahi Culture Center, Matsuyama City, Polish Haiku Association, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Seinan Jo Gakuin University, and Only One Tree.

McMurray’s award-winning books include: “Teaching and Learning Haiku in English” (2022); “Only One Tree Haiku, Music & Metaphor” (2015); “Canada Project Collected Essays & Poems” Vols. 1-8 (2013); and “Haiku in English as a Japanese Language” (2003).