I did it. My first haiku for the month, based on the challenge I set for myself here. Is it brilliant? No. But that’s okay. That’s what revision is for, right?

I must have gone to the front yard a dozen times today and wandered around the plants, looking for inspiration. No luck. Then I told myself to just pick a plant, any plant, and write about it. That didn’t work either. So I went back into the house, ate some tortilla chips and wished for something sweet to counter the salt.

When Cassie wanted to go out back, I went with her and watched her chase butterfly that landed in the Ray Hartman Ceanothus. And the first line came right up and settled in my mouth, filled with alliteration and imagery, two of my favorite elements and ones I am trying to learn how to use better. The second line was easy….I wrote what I saw. The final line is what needs work. It says what I want to say but it’s just blah….and it needs a punch line that says something on two layers. And I think that’s something that just needs time for pondering.

r

April Haiku count – 1

Edited to add: I changed my mind and I am going to post my daily haikus here because they are a painful process and heck, if I’m going to suffer, I might as well have some company, right?  

So here is what I wrote yesterday, or rather the evolution of it.

Whenever I see a Ceanothus in full bloom, the Ray Hartman, I always think of those purple popsicles we used to get when I was a kid, the twin pops that you had to break in half and share with someone else. So the first line came to me right away.

purple popsicles

Ceanothus is 4 syllables so I knew I needed to use it on the middle line or I would have no words left for anything else so first draft was

ceanothus in full bloom

And because the bees were buzzing around it like crazy I ended with this.

summer sweets for bees

So my first draft was:

purple popsicles
ceanothus in full bloom
summer sweets for bees

But it didn’t feel very good to me.

So I brainstormed middle lines

ceanothus blooms for sale
ceanothus blooms don’t melt
ceanothus opens shop
ceanothus sweet shop
ceanothus ice cream shop

Even though ceanothus ice cream shop doesn’t make a lot of sense I like the sound of it.
 
purple popsicles
ceanothus ice cream shop
summer sweets for bees

I wasn’t pleased with the ending because it’s not summer yet and they don’t bloom in the summer time.

More brainstorming.

summer sweets for bees
springtime feast for bees
springtime sweets for bees
bees line up to feast

And this is what I ended up with.

Ceanothus
purple popsicles
ceanothus ice cream shop
bees line up to feast

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 1, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

This is post #2 relating to my personal poetry challenge for the month of April to write one haiku per day inspired by my  native plant garden.

I have decided to post my poems for every day after chatting about it with two poets whom I admire very much, Laura Salaslaurasalas   and Liz Scanlonliz_scanlon . Laura said something that I think is going to stick with me a long time, not just about poetry but about all writing. She said, "I work from a place of abundance." Isn’t that just the best attitude? I also decided if I am going to talk about being brave, I need to be 100% brave and not just a little bit brave.

The inspiration for this poem came to me while I was outside watering a few of the newest plants in the garden. I was thinking about how happy it made me, when planting, to finally see worms in the dirt. When we first moved here the soil was so dead that we had no worms, (at least up high) no insect life in the ground at all (that we could see.) And I was thinking about the importance of worms, especially in this San Jose clay and how they churn up the dirt and leave these wonderful tunnels behind that help disburse the water underground. (They also leave worm poop behind and that’s another great thing for the garden.)

So this time the last line came to me first.

worms do all the work

And then I was stuck.

water water everywhere
even native plants need drinks
thirsty plants need water soon
roots wait for something to drink
thirsty roots cling to dry clay
water to the thirsty roots
bring water to thirsty roots

bring water to thirsty roots

And then the first line popped right into my head

underground tunnels

Which gave me a final poem of:

Worms
underground tunnels
bring water to thirsty roots
worms do all the work

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 2, 2009

I started thinking about what the yard looked like before we tore it all apart. It looked like, well, nothing you would call pretty. To start with there was concrete EVERYWHERE. The neighbors laughed at me when I told them we would remove the concrete strip next to the street. "Nothing will grow there," they said. "We’ve lived here for 50 years. Nothing will grow."

And I shrugged my shoulders and told them I had to try. And if I failed they would have a new story to tell about that crazy garden lady. Today I looked at what used to  be the concrete strip between the street and the sidewalk and I have Ceanothus in bloom, Bee’s Bliss sage and Lupines. The Cleveland Sage is full of buds and just waiting for its turn. The native Fuschia’s are gearing up too and I’m sure the hummingbirds are watching for those first red blooms.

The first thought that came to was concrete jungle but that was cliche and it really wasn’t true. What we had was a variety of concrete and aggregate, like little streams leading to the street.

concrete rivers

And what did they do? They hid things. They hid the dirt from me. They hid the dirt from the sun and the rain. They hid the seeds buried deep over many years under a sterile 6" deep river of cement.

concrete rivers hide

It was the dirt I was thinking about now. About how, when we finally did remove the cement, there were piles and piles of dirt everywhere and the guy with the tractor wanted to take it away. "It’s just clay," he said. "It’s no good for growing things." Oh how wrong he was. Clay is rich in nutrients and holds the water well. Perfect environment for my native plant garden.

rich clay
soil seeds sun
grow
rich clay waits for seeds and sun
hunger
feed me
hungers for the sun
rich clay soil hungers for the sun
needs sun and seeds and then
rich clay soil waits for seeds and sun
hungering, slumbering dirt
hungering, slumbering soil
hungering, slumbering clay

hungering, slumbering clay

I knew it was there – a beautiful garden - just like a sleeping princess, waiting for me to wake it up and bring it to life.

sleep sleepy sun  sleepy garden
under garden garden under wake up
gardens beneath the sea
let sleeping gardens wake
where sleeping gardens wait

sleeping gardens wait

Concrete
concrete rivers hide
hungering, slumbering clay
sleeping gardens wait

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 3, 2009
 

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

There’s still a little bit of today left for haiku #4.

I planted a flat of of Sea Thrift, little clusters of evergreen grasslike plants that shoot up long stems with little pink ball shaped flowers. They always make me think of popcorn balls.
 

sea thrift
pink balls
popcorn balls
pink popcorn bals
bright pink popcorn balls

bright pink popcorn balls

shooting
waving
reaching
slender stems
fingers
roast
roast in summer sun
roasting in the summer sun

wave fingers toward the sun

sea thrift is my name
hummers wait to drink
hummingbirds go by
hummingbirds will feast
hopeful hummers wait

hopeful hummers wait

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

One of my very favorite California Native plants is the poppy. I love the way they grow indiscriminately, in the dirt, in the mulch, in the cracks of a driveway. If you toss some seed out in the fall you can ignore it, let the winter rains do its thing, and come spring, the poppies burst forth.

poppy gold
poppy talk
poppies pop
sun
orange
pumpkins
carrots
pumpkin carrot orange
sea of pumpkin orange

sea of pumpkin orange

flowers leaves petals
circles wave
circles fly
flying saucers
zoom
glide
orbit
flying saucers orbit yards

flying saucers orbit yards

pop up everywhere
welcome spring
poppies welcome spring
flying saucers welcome spring
say hello
poppies say hello

poppies say hello

Poppies
sea of pumpkin orange
flying saucers orbit yards
poppies say hello

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 6, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems

I asked my husband what one of his favorite plants were in the yard and he said Catalina Ironwood. I would have to agree with him. It is a magnificent looking tree and while we put two in the yard, I am still searching, wondering if I can find room for one more. They have a graceful fern-like leaves, reddish bark (at least at this young stage) and as they age and their trunks grow, the bark shreds into feathers that cling to the tree until the last possible moment when they fall to ground and create a beautiful leaf litter duff. In reading up on them I found that blue jays like to stash their food behind the bark and that alligator lizards tend to hide there too so sometimes, the blue jays get an unexpected live meal.

I knew I wanted to use the line about alligator lizards hiding there so then I brainstormed anything I could think of about the tree.

blue jays
hungry blue jays
search for food
bugs
lizards
hide
shush
no one is home
peeling
rusty slivers of bark
rusty feathers
under
beneath
behind
rusty bark feathers
beneath the bark
behind feathered bark
feathered bark

I came up with two versions. I’m not sure which I like best.

Catalina Ironwood
beneath feathered bark
alligator lizards hide
shush, no one is home

Catalina Ironwood
beneath feathered bark
alligator lizards hide
blue jays go hungry

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 7, 2009
 

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

I don’t have this in my yard yet, but I should since purple needlegrass is our state grass

I went to read up on it and learned (as I often do) even more fascinating things about the survival instincts of our native plants. It’s called needlegrass because the seeds are shaped like a torpedo and each seed has a long, thread-like awn attached making it look a lot like a needle and thread.

No brainstorming to speak of on this one. (I keep reminding myself that these are workshop haiku and I can revise to my heart’s content after April is over.)

Purple Needlegrass
roots twenty feet deep
live two hundred years or more
waiting out the drought

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 8, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

This is another one of my very favorite plants but I don’t have it in my garden. I didn’t think there was room for it. Only now, after I have planted something else in the one spot that it could have gone, do I realize how much I miss it. I may have to sacrifice the other plant that is there just so I can find a place for this beauty. Trichostema lanatum, Woolly Blue Curls, wants to be left alone on a hill of perfect drainage and absolutely no summer water. Even then, sometimes it fails to thrive but it is worth the effort.

 

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems

There’s one thing you should know about this plant before you plant it in your garden – it actually shows up on lists of plants you should consider for security purposes around house. Roses have nothing compared to the thorns on these babies. We have three of them planted next to the house of evil. It’s a beautiful plant with long, tubular flowers which are pollinated by hummingbirds.
 

The brainstorm

necklace
thorns
pendant
hummingbirds
delicate
pink pendants hang low
pink ladies wait
pink necklace
protected by the thorns
protected by thorny swords
guard
nectar
sweet nectar
thorny swords guard the nectar
brave
solider
no fear
no deer
hummers have no fear
pink pendants hang low
thorny swords guard sweet nectar
painted pink ladies beckon
hummers have no fear

Fuschia-flowered gooseberry
thorns guard sweet nectar
only the brave win reward
hummers have no fear

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 10, 2009
 
@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009
 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

Coyote Bush is one of those California native plants you either love or hate. I happen to love it. It’s dependable as all get out. It is huge on the wildlife value. But some people don’t like it. The Native Americans had many uses for this plant, from medicinal, to making arrow shaft, to building houses. They also called them "fuzzy wuzzy. "I love the seed heads. They look like feather dusters with long silky threads. One of the most important jobs of this plant is to serve as a nurse plant, sheltering young plants that need shade and protection until they are old enough to stand on their own and it’s a great soil fixer-upper too! 

white silky angel hair
silky angel hair
fuzzy wuzzy seeds
nurse plant for degraded soil
nurse plants for baby acorns
nurse plant for tender seedling
reviving tired soil
exhausted soil
breathing life into tired soil
resurrecting tired soil
oaks
shelters baby oaks
sheltering young oaks

Coyote Bush
fuzzy wuzzy seeds
tired soil, revived, made new
shelters baby oaks

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 11, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

looks like a  pipe
smelly pipe
stinky fungus gnats
pollinating the pipevine
smelly like a pipe
smelly funny plant
foul smelling perfume
picky eater
picky eater butterfly
picky caterpillar
eats
chews
dines

California Pipevine

caterpillar dines
an exclusive neighborhood
swallowtail appears

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 12, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

A few weeks ago we had an amazing adventure – thousands upon thousands of painted lady butterflies were in the midst of their migration and we were right in their path. I stood in the front yard and watched them zoom by in twos and threes every few seconds. They travel at just about head high and go straight, up and over, rather than around anything in their path.

I’m not pleased with this haiku yet. It hasn’t quite captured what I want but these are not yet finished pieces. They are more of a workshop.

Painted Ladies

irridescent flight
painted ladies on parade
vanish in the sun

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 13, 2009
 

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

We are having some really, really high winds around here today and when I looked outside at the leaves and twigs and other things blowing around the yard I thought about the seeds and how the wind carries them from one home to the next like travelers looking to settle a new territory.

I don’t know how useful the brainstorms are so I haven’t posted that…just the poem.

The Wind

windy dancing day
tumbling, stumbling seeds
miracle to come

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 12, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

We fell in love with this California Wax Myrtle a few years ago when we were still in our rental house and planting our practice native garden. It’s a beautiful evergreen with glossy leaves and while it doesn’t get flashy flowers or fruits you can eat it does get these little waxy nutlets that are cherished by many birds, including Cedar Waxwings. I have never seen a Waxwing in person…not yet…but I so want to. At the Yerba Buena nursery there is an huge old Wax Myrtle next to the pond and you can stand under it and hear all the little tapping biting sounds of the birds feasting.

At the rental house we bought one Wax Myrtle and planted it in the little sideyard where we getting acquainted with native plants. We planted it against what was affectionately called the "hell" wall because it was the reflected heat all summer long. It died. Quickly even. No birds for me.

When we bought this house we knew we wanted to find a place for a Wax Myrtle. Turns out I found a place for seven of them along a fence line. I’m a little wiser now and planted them in the once section of the backyard that is getting any irrigation. They are still small but someday I hope they will be filled with birds.
 

The brainstorm

evergreenn
glossy green
hedge or tree
nitrogen fixing
improves soil
habitat improving
not pretty flowers
berries for birds
waxy nutlets
smorgasbord
waxwings
waxwings decorate the tree
decorated with birds
hidden in the branches
hidden in the tree
noisy birds
evergreen ever full of birds
birds hide, divide the berries
noisy birds hidden
behind evergreen branches
waxwings hide behind
waxwings feast behind
evergreen branches
evergreen leaves
the thicket of evergreen
quivering glossy green leaves

Wax Myrtle

waxwings feast behind
quivering glossy green leaves
worth the water? yes

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 15, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

I heard about this plant, Mountain Mahogany, long before I ever saw it in person. When we finally saw one, a full-grown specimen, both my husband and I fell in love with it. The unique flowers/seeds were a bonus for me. When I look at the flowers my first thought is of those 4th of July sparklers I used to love as a kid…the ones where you would write your name in the night sky and watch it light up. It’s great evergreen bush to small tree and a terrific cover for wildlife.

 The brainstorm

seeds burst into air
spring seed explosion
sunlit seeds explodes
seeds burst free
seeds pop in the sun
seeds burst in the sun
trails of white
white feathers
white streamers
floating
stream of feathery white
feathery white stream
leaving a feathery white stream
with a feathery white stream
swirls of sparkling feathers
swirling, sparkling feathers float
nature’s hope for more
seeds burst in the sun
swirling, sparkling feathers fly
somewhere a child smiles

Mountain Mahogany
from exploding seeds
sparkling feathers light the sky
somewhere a child smiles

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 16, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

This is one of the funniest names for a plant, Sticky Monkey Flower. I’ve read that they’re called monkey flowers because the flowers look like grinning Monkeys. You may or may not agree. They do, however, have very sticky leaves filled with nutrients for critters. I see these plants all the time as we drive to Santa Cruz, bright orange flowers popping up from in-between the rocks where it doesn’t seem like anything should grow at all. Of course I had to have them in my yard. It has its own butterfly…its own caterpillar…the checkerspot butterfly lays its eggs on the sticky leaves.

I have to say that I didn’t really do much of a brainstorm on this one. I read up on the plant a little bit, then got the last line first. After that came the second line and then the first. I was happy so I stopped.
 

Sticky Monkey Flower

sticky leaves hug eggs
hungry — not yet butterflies
laughing monkey waits

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 17, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009 

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

Once again, not really much brainstorming went on. I was just trying to get a draft of a poem together because, well, it’s late and I’m tired and I know I can revise these under less pressure. It’s not quite right but it captures the direction I want to go.

California Honeysuckle

roots hide in shade, cool
vining fingers search for sun
hummingbirds rejoice

— Susan Taylor Brown
      April 18, 2009

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009

Read the rest of the Haiku challenge poems
 

When I was growing up my grandmother always had at least one fuschia on the front porch….the kind you get at your local garden center. It was lovely and tropical looking and a wee bit on the finicky side to take care of. When I discovered the California Fuschia I fell in love. I couldn’t believe how beautiful and lush it was with so little water or attention. And talk about a hummingbird magnet! To see a large bush of them cascading down a bank looks like it it raining fire to me.

 

Blue-eyed grass

blue eyes wet with dew
thirsty bee stops to drink -  wait
listen to the dawn

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009