Tag Archives: poem




Sprouting from the brickwork

None-the less you grow

Waiting for that west wind

To blow


Your seeds fluffed by raindrops

Watch the water flow

Now you’re simply waiting

To sow


Looking more like feathers

White as driven snow

Still you go on waiting

To go



This lone dandelion caught my eye as I passed it on the steps. It was so white, not the gold I’m used to seeing in bright sunlight, and the rain had clumped the seeds together, making the ends look like wet feathers.

It didn’t matter to me that I did not plant it, nor that it is considered a weed. I admired its tenacity, flourishing there in the bricks.

I thought it beautiful.



Very Nearly Spring

Freesia 1

Haiku 67

Eager to appear

Start your journey in winter

By jumping the gun


Freesia 2

Sprouting between the dead twigs of my (resurrected) asparagus fern, my spring freesias are just about ready to open. Though they are still a little green, it won’t be long now.

Funny how Nature decides when it will be spring.

By my calendar it should be 21st September!



Oak Tree 1

Haiku 65

Golden shimmering

Drying leaves and whispering

Sunlight reflecting


Oak Tree 2

If you wonder why I talk about winter one day, spring the next and then autumn, it is because all this is going on at the same time down here in Cape Town.

It is not surprising, considering we can have a week of Berg winds and temperatures of 27C, followed by a cold front passing through, bringing snow on the mountains and causing the temperatures to plummet. If we’re lucky we’ll also get rain, but so far it has rained only once in July; our rainy month!

Oak Tree 3

So yes, technically it is mid-winter here. Yet some trees are still losing their leaves, like my oak tree pictured above, a few have been bare for a while and others are sprouting their new spring growth. Most, however, are Evergreen.

You don’t really get four different seasons here; you get summer for about eight months and not-summer for four.


Lovely Ladybird

Lady Bird

Haiku 63

Scurrying so fast

Lovely little Ladybird

Vast expanse of towel


We used to see Ladybirds quite often, way back when in the old days. One summer camping in Sweden we awoke one morning to find our orange tent completely covered in Ladybirds. I mean totally! It took us ages to shake off every last one before packing up the tent. It was the Summer of the Ladybird!

Now it is such a rare occurrence, that whenever I do see a Ladybird I have to dash for my camera to record the event.

This one I found sunbathing on my towel that was hanging out on the line with the other washing. Of course, the moment I started taking photos, she became camera shy and began scurrying about. This made it hard to focus, not helped by a sudden gust of wind that sent my towel billowing. Still, I got one shot before she flew off.

This unusually marked Ladybird doesn’t look like the ones I used to see, which were basically red with black spots. Either way, I was very happy to see her. I hope she finds her way to my roses, where she can enjoy a feast of aphids!

I think this particular little bug is called a Lunate Ladybird.


post script: My towel is not particularly shaggy; it’s just quite a close up to capture the Ladybird. My trusty little Canon succeeds again!


Wintry Morn

Winter Sunrise


Winter Morn

The cool colours of

A Winter Morn

Seen through dark branches

Barren and shorn


The crisp cold air and

A weaker sun

Remind you winter

Is not yet done*



This is about the only winter scenery I get to see, as most of my garden – and everyone else’s – is Evergreen.

Here you see dawn, as the sun rises through the bare branches of a neighbour’s tree; the pinky-purple sky courtesy of a few clouds.


*Not yet done. This is an Americanism. My younger daughter used to say it sometimes as a teenager. In English you would tend to say something is not yet over, or finished.

But, you know, it rhymes so nicely with sun!


Scattering Rainbows

Sunlight Rainbow


Haiku 62

Prismatic colours

Hidden inside a sunbeam

Scattering rainbows



Here is proof that white light is made up of all the colours of the rainbow.

When I took a shot facing the early morning sun, my trusty little Canon camera somehow managed to turn the sun’s rays into this lovely colour spectrum.

You can split white light up into its constituent colours using a glass prism. This was first done by Isaac Newton.