tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8972120889629675714.post548354329128839763..comments2024-02-25T05:24:24.948-05:00Comments on Beyond Easy: witch hazel & kigoPatrick Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410016566636603639noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8972120889629675714.post-14194728052788869722021-03-15T23:14:50.720-04:002021-03-15T23:14:50.720-04:00To my understanding, "frog" itself is a ...To my understanding, "frog" itself is a kigo. It doesn't matter what the frog is doing: if it's in a haiku, that typically means it's springtime (despite frogs also being active in the summer and early fall). Just how the trope works, apparently.<br /><br />I'd be interested in reading an extended treatment of what it's like for a person from the tropics or subtropics lurching through winter for the first time. It really would be analogous to adapting to a different culture.<br /><br />Something else I learned from St Thomas: when somebody in that region says "it's pouring," they mean it. People who use that expression in Philadelphia have never seen it rain like it rains in the Caribbean.<br /><br />Glad you liked my effort at short verse. In case you're not familiar with wood thrushes, it's worth having a listen to their song:<br /><br />https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-22ZuQyAJ4<br /><br />The only word I have is "haunting." They prefer deep woods and don't spend much time on the ground; they're heard from up above and far away, but seldom seen.Patrick Rhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02410016566636603639noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8972120889629675714.post-53152554703714207502021-03-15T20:38:25.561-04:002021-03-15T20:38:25.561-04:00I've been thinking about the experiential part...I've been thinking about the experiential part for a while, too. As someone who's spread their life among different continents/climates/cultures and loves a book in translation, I wonder often about the nuances and connotations, like the frog's dive signifying spring, that I miss. I don't see spring in witch hazel, but I do see it in (depending on where I am) snowdrops or anemone. But I have to imagine the resident of St. Thomas not being able to truly appreciate the turning of the seasons, in much the same I couldn't truly comprehend cold being painful before I experienced subzero temperatures, regardless of how evocatively described it was in literature, including Shelley. Still, this post made me want to read more poetry. And live in more places.<br /><br />Even the bastardised haiku was a pretty, vivid thing. It made me think of a how a hazy creek smells like after a storm.Karim Ananihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17077540749759561291noreply@blogger.com