crows discuss

I just got back from my first hike to Sorrow Falls in a long time. In fact that's the main reason I'm writing this - it's an excuse to draft a haibun about the walk, the first such posting I'll have done since early August when I wrote one about watching the Perseid meteor shower.

Some email correspondence with Katherine Gordon has shaken me out of my summer doldrums, so I decided that rather than do my daily summer walk along the river towpath in the village, I'd venture forth like a good little visionary haijin and visit one of my favourite haunts. The Sorrow Falls trail along the old railway line was my first choice, so I jumped into the Sube and headed out of town.

It seems like a very long time since I've hiked my favourite trail. The brush and saplings have grown up along both sides of the trail since my last visit. The creek was hidden by the new growth, which surprised me as it's been a drought stricken summer. There used to be a field on the other side of the trail before the first wooden bridge, but that's also overgrown now. I was feeling pretty chipper in my newfound enthusiasm, so I made it to Sorrow Falls in a few minutes less than the usual half hour.

The entire creek was completely dry at the falls, both the pool below and the riverbed above. I decided to walk upstream on the rocky path, and I reminisced about finding my dolphin shaped suiseki stone there a decade ago. The dolphin has rested beside me in my study every since, a touchstone reminder of the drala magick of Sorrow Falls in particular, and nature in general.

At first I didn't find any special tonde or suiseki stones, just the amazing water sculptures and small caves carved by millennia of water flow.

 
secrets revealed
with every step
in the dry stream bed


Suddenly I found a small 'temple' stone, one of those exotic looking terraced rocks. It was small enough that I decided to pick it up as a memento of the day and this first annual fall visit to Sorrow Falls.

The summer drought was so pervasive that for the first time I was able to walk the stream bed all the way to the second wooden bridge. There I clambered up the bank and through a small thicket of cedar to reach the bridge, which I'd named 'shaman bridge' in 2003 during my re-awakening period.

 
faded mandalas
carved in the wood
of the old bridge


Starting to feel tired, I headed back. Few birds had lightened my hike, and as I passed the swamp valley on the west side, the only birds I saw or heard during the walk were crows (Milt and Basho?):


crows discuss
drought withered fields
and wild red apples  








ayaz daryl nielsen has left a new comment on your post "crows discuss":

yes, appreciate your creativity
best to your week,
ayaz daryl nielsen

Posted by ayaz daryl nielsen to Riffs & Ripples from ZenRiver Gardens at 16 September 2016 at 20:07