Silent Sunday
Tag Archives: photography
choices for few (haibun)
Berri Métro Station is at the same location of the city bus terminal where many homeless people find warmth from the cold and cool air from the hot muggy summers. On the second undergrown level there are shops and a food court then a door opens to the tunnel leading to the pay stalls. In the tunnel there is a guitarist and you can hear the rare tinkle of spare change in the guitar case. About fifty feet before the stalls there is an amazing pizza counter…cash only and a makeshift interior terrace with tables to eat. For $3.00 you can eat a point of pizza with a soft drink.
cash only pizza
window of opportunities
begging for coins
© Tournesol ’15
Last slow breath (haibun)
Le “cordonier mal chaussé” is often what her peers call her teasingly. When a young person calls her crisis line and is having a panic attack, she asks him to put one hand on his belly, then walks him through mindful breathing and eventually a guided imagery. Breathing in, the belly inflates like a balloon, breathing out, the belly flattens.
So many youths and adults tend to label themselves as suffering from some form of anxiety; however, there are also many youths who hear this “term” but have not been properly diagnosed. Living in a society of information overload it is no wonder many practice “googlism” as they surf the internet.
A young person may call for help with anxiety. The counsellor shakes her head when the youth answers her question to “Where did you get that diagnosis?” and it is “Oh, I googled it.” She shakes her head in dismay as she listens to the youth through her earpiece.
This counsellor, too must learn to practice some form of mindful breathing in order to find balance in her life. She chants daily on her walks or when she is upset; and so many times when her mind won’t shut off and slowly it reduces her breathing and she is able to finally be in control of her breath.
Sitting in a park or garden, she connects with an inner peace hearing only her breath and faint chirps. Her ultimate reward is sitting on the rooftop witnessing that giant golden star slip beneath the horizon and she is thankful to be alive and be part of this universe.
final brush strokes
transform hues on canvas
last slow breath
last slow breath
at one with the heavens
life’s cycle
© Tournesol ’15
Carpe Diem “Pranayana – Controlled breath”
Le “cordonier mal chaussé” literal translation, shoemaker with bad shoes, meaning not practicing what one preaches.
purity (haiga)
This amazing photo, Karuna took at LivingLearningandLettinggo inspired me.
pure essence
whimsical petals whisper
dark shadows begone!
© Tournesol ’15
wandering at twilight (Troiku)
Wandering alone
dark quagmires freeze
lost in time
wandering alone
deep in thought
I get lost
~
dark quagmires freeze
scattered trees look like ghosts
with skinny arms
~
lost in time
bumped into ghosts of bygone
tears freeze on my cheek
© Tournesol ’15
sans titre (haibun)
Walking home last night at the Métro Bonaventure Station, it was later than usual. It was passed eleven for I usually see several homeless persons lying on the marble sidings soaking up their last minutes of warm slumber. Between eleven and one in the morning, I am not sure if the police alert them of the time or if they have internal clocks but it was after 23:40 and I only noticed one man sitting by the door where late commuters rush off to catch their busses off the island of Montreal.
People kept walking by and the man was not holding out his cap nor mumbling anything as is usually the case when we go by some homeless persons…he looked so tired. I felt bad no one was stopping…true it was late and many were coming home from work…not all late evening travelers are revelers.
I sat down for a moment putting down my backpack, rummaging through the mess looking for my change purse, searching for change to give to this man. I rarely carry money but change, mind you, here in Canada means $1 and $2 coins along with the quarters, dimes and nickles…we got rid of our pennies. Good I found enough to get a coffee and soup at Tims perhaps {I must pick up some coupons from Tim Horton to have handy}.
The man looked at me and I could not see he had a smile {without my glasses} but I did take a few photos} that I had noticed only after seeing the photo. As I walked passed him, stopped to give him my coins, he thanked me so kindly with such a nice smile…the same smile I saw later on that photo.
Such a worry for the homeless people this time of year…last night it was dipping to below 20C and it snowed all night…a nightmare for anyone stuck outside in this bitter cold for more than an hour.
© Tournesol ’15/01/16
piercing arrow (haiga)
piercing arrow
stabbed my heart
only time will heal
© Tournesol ’15
riverdance (haibun)
I really must go back home, mom’s home, to sit by the window and look at the dance of birds. So many different birds taking their turn pecking at the feeder hanging over la rivière Yamaska. What astonished me was the cardinal who is twice the size of the other birds not gaining control over these birds. I guess in the feathered world, size does not matter but cunning prowess and speed does. Why who would have thought that “foxiness” reigns (grins) among birds?
Rival cardinal,
hummingbird wins the contest
dancing on the feeder
© Tournesol ’15
flowers or snow (haibun)
This should be fun although I love both kigo words snowflakes representing weather my part of the world and the sunflowers being admired by my Aussie friends….lucky Sandy, Jen and Michael, I will write on both.
Snowflakes are pretty but when they stick to your lashes and the cold wind makes my eyes weep, well, it’s a dangerous combination, that’s all I’m saying. Tonight I walked home in the bitter cold at minus 27 C and who knows with the wind chill…I was prepared with extra warm socks in sheep skin lined boots (Saute Mouton), layers of wool sweaters under my warm coat, Gortex glove and mittens, cagoule under pilot hat and eternity mohair scarf…but my cagoule kept slipping leaving my face exposed to the frigid air.
snowflakes
on my lashes blind me
slipped on ice
*
frostbitten cheeks
snowflakes adorn the trees
fancy a sunburn
The sky was clear tonight with the odd cloud splashed here and there on that navy canvas and I knew it was the last night to savour this full moon. I had to take a glove off my right hand to take a few photos with my smartphone since it works only with the heat of a hand….click, click until I could no longer feel my fingers…that was my warning to head into the warmth. It was so worth the cold hand. The moon smiling down on me was as if my mom was somewhere nearby.
*******************************
This summer I hope to take more advantage of just relaxing and reading outdoors. I tend to carry my tablet everywhere to write….but by a lake or pond would be a nice change. I look forward to that, and sitting a garden of daisies or sunflowers…or both!
summer read
sitting by the pond
sunflowers grow
*
sunflowers
become a part of me
nom de plume
(c) Tournesol’15
first full moon of the year (haiga)
cold winter night
hidden by the old elm tree
first grown-up kiss
~
hidden by the elm
old woman blind to carnal sins
full moon beams
© Tournesol `15
