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A Sense of Place: MOUNTAIN – smell

 

 

A Sense of Place

In his essay ‘So:ba’, given at the International Haiku Conference (SUNY Plattsburgh, NY, 2008) and published serially in Frogpond, Jim Kacian discusses the concept of ba:

“If you look up ba in any Japanese-English Dictionary you’ll find it means “place” or “site” or “occasion”. And these are all true in the most general sense—ba is a pointer to a kind of awareness that something of importance is happening in time and space.”

So here we are…

In the following weeks we will get back to haiku basics and explore specific locations with an emphasis on the senses, and with the intention of improving our own haiku practice. Ideally, participants will select an actual location that they can visit, or a location from memory that they have visited in the past. Failing that, we always have our imaginations – and you’re invited to join in the fun! Submit an original unpublished poem (or poems) via our Contact Form by Sunday midnight on the theme of the week, including your name as you would like it to appear, and place of residence. I will select from these for the column, and add commentary.

 

next week’s theme:  MOUNTAIN – taste

We remain in the mountains – if possible, the same actual mountains as last week – but now we explore the sense of taste…

I look forward to reading your submissions.

 

A Sense of Place:  MOUNTAIN – smell

inhaling all that blue
washing over me
Altai mountains

Celestine Nudanu

The reader of this poem may sense the feeling of being overwhelmed by the immensity of nature – of being overcome by it, at least temporarily… a feeling commonly felt by those who have adventures in places like the Yukon…

mountain rivulets
flanked by ferns
– a whiff of wellness

Corine Timmer

Here the poet expresses an idea shared by several others this week, the idea that the air in the mountains is better for health, or that being out in nature can be restorative…

halfway down the mountain
the smell
of brakes

Randy Brooks

Such a frightening thought, and presented in such a way that the reader can compose many plausible endings to this story…

Here are the rest of my selections for this week:

mountain cave –
dripping the scent
of bats

Adjei Agyei-Baah
Kumasi, Ghana

 

at the foot
of the mountain
left behind sneakers

Adrian Bouter

 

Kalaat M’Gouna
the man with a rose
behind his ear

Alan Summers
Wiltshire, England

 

at every step
a strong scent of moss –
mountain valley

a ogni passo
forte odore di muschio –
valle montana

Alessandra Delle Fratte
Rome, Italy

 

the smell of fear
a hawk swoops down
from the mountain

Amy Losak

 

treeline
we leave the scent of pine
behind

andrew shimield

 

climbing to the top –
the acrid smell of moss
under the shoes

Angela Giordano

 

the scent
of alfalfa –
malga cheese

Angiola Inglese

 

this air
less shared
mountain breath

Ann K. Schwader
Westminster, CO

 

through the drizzle
the scent of mushrooms –
mountain woods

Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo

 

towards the peak
the spilled perfume
of mountain lilies

Anthony Rabang

 

ape-stink
the trail
not followed

Ardelle Hollis Ray
Las Vegas, NV

 

a flash across the mountain smell of ozone

Barbara Kaufmann
NY

 

line shack
we brew coffee
the old fashioned way

Barbara Tate
Winchester, TN

 

deep breaths
before dawn
mountain air

Billy Antonio
Laoac, Philippines

 

mountain air
enough scent
to last my descent

Blessed Ayeyame
Ughelli, Nigeria

 

crystal scent
of new snow –
the high pass

Bob Whitmire
Round Pond, Maine

 

an earthly essence
rises from the mountain
rain dance

Bona Santos

 

mountain path
up to the sky
the smell of resin

cezar ciobika

 

Everest summit
smell of bottled oxygen
through a rubber mask

Charles Harmon
Los Angeles, California, USA

 

cold day on the slopes
Oma’s glow wine spices
fill the air

Christina Chin
Kuching, Sarawak

 

mountain breeze
even on a winding path
my retriever finds me

Christina Sng

 

heather on the mountain
kicking up the smell of musk

Christine Eales
UK

 

the room’s smell
of calamine lotion
mountain mosquitoes

Claire Vogel Camargo

 

hidden gorge
water trickling
into the scent of moss

Craig Kittner
Wilmington, NC

 

rope descent
silence in
the smell of fear

David Gale
Gloucester UK

 

the mountain air her perfume taking over

David Jacobs
London, UK

 

lingering longer
on the slopes
petrichor

Debbi Antebi
London, UK

 

the smell of rain
before it rains
mountain top

(inspired by a recent visit to Great Basin National Park, Nevada)

Deborah P Kolodji
Temple City, California

 

persistent choristers
up through smoky canyons
pine siskins

Devin Harrison

 

apres-ski
hot mulled wine spices
the musky room

dianne moritz

 

a cup of tea
another life of
mountain grasses

Dubravka Šcukanec
Zagreb, Croatia

 

Chianti Hills
the sweet scent
of red wine

Eufemia Griffo

 

free climbing
the well-known scent
of loneliness

Eva Limbach
Germany

 

scent of pine
tempts hikers
towards the summit

Giedra Kregzdys
Woodhaven, NY

 

following your steps
up to Monte delle Felci
origan

(Monte delle Felci is the mountain of Salina in the Eolian Islands, Sicily)

Giovanna Restuccia
Italy

 

mountain girl
the scent of pines
my favorite perfume

Greer Woodward
Kamuela, HI

 

amid the roses
so red the mount
in bloom

Guliz Mutlu

 

remembrance day
the bittersweet smell
of mountain poppies

Hifsa Ashraf
Pakistan

 

early morning dew
sweet lemon scent
of wild mountain thyme

Ingrid Baluchi
Ohrid, Macedonia

 

mountain air
the fragrance
of sheep manure

Isabel Caves
Auckland, New Zealand

 

on the steep trail
an old woman passes
the scent of her kitchen

Joanne van Helvoort

 

reaching the snow line
the scent of pine needles
from her thicker socks

John Hawkhead

 

late night in the mountains
still boiling sap
wood smoke

Judith Hishikawa
West Burke, Vermont

 

Mt. Olympus –
the transparent smell
of glacier ice

(Mt. Olympus, Olympic National Park, Washington State, USA)

Judt Shrode

 

the mountain moves
into our house
burning sage

Kath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California

 

forget-me-nots
fragrance
tickles my nose

Kathleen Mazurowski
Chicago, IL

 

pine-scented fog
adding creamer
to my campfire coffee

Kimberly Esser
Los Angeles, CA

 

down from the mountain…
smell of that breeze
straining to reach us

Laurie Greer
Washington, D.C.

 

the blueridge
the scent of laurel
rising in smoke

Linda Ludwig

 

grandfather mountain
I catch a whiff
of his cologne

(Grandfather mountain is the highest peak of the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina)

Lori A Minor
Detroit, Michigan

 

back in the city
pining
for the scent of pine

Lori Zajkowski
New York, NY

 

a breath
of mountain heather
purple sunrise

Lucy Whitehead
Essex, UK

 

scents of evergreen
blanket the mountainside
presents of the trees

m. shane pruett
Salem, OR, USA

 

mountain trekking
amidst the Deodhar trees
a whiff of solitude

Madhuri Pillai

 

mountain retreat
the moon sniffing
cloud after cloud

Malintha Perera

 

gnarled trees
the sweet fall
of mountain apples

Margaret Walker
Lincoln, NE, USA

 

blue butterflies –
in the mountain breeze
smell of manure

(blue butterflies are attracted to cow dung)

Margherita Petriccione

 

hot summer hike
the scent of
dust lingering

Margo Williams
Stayton, Oregon USA

 

home again
sharpening a pencil
a hint of mountains

Marietta McGregor

 

top of pikes peak
a steaming cup of joe
with a race car view

Marilyn App Walker

 

thinner air
we smell the clouds
on Slieve Donard

(Slieve Donard is the highest mountain of the Mournes)

Marina Bellini

 

a faint trace
of salt in the air…
Mourne Mountains

Marion Clarke
Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland

 

Foel Cymcerwyn
the scent of the ocean
on the wind

(Note that Foel Cymcerwyn is a peak in Wales)

Mark Gilbert
UK

 

mountain path
missing in the fog…
bonfire smoke

Marta Chocilowska

 

mountain sunset
the scent of wild chamomile
under my feet

Martha Magenta
England, UK

 

Pine and Aspen duff, my feet
on this redolent forest trail –
mountain mist

Mary Ellen Gambutti
Sarasota, FL

 

Sierra Morena
wrapped
in jasmine

Meg Arnot
London, UK

 

mountain hollow
we bend
to the wildflower’s scent

Melissa Howell
Tennessee, USA

 

Zabriskie Point
a tint of smoke
out of the west

Michael Henry Lee

 

mountain cabin –
the smell of lake trout
in the frying pan

Michael H. Lester
Los Angeles CA USA

 

bumblebee –
the goatherd’s girl gathers
alpine herbs

Michael Smeer
Haarlemmermeer, The Netherlands

 

the sweet perfume
of uncounted nations…
summiting day

Michele L. Harvey

 

mountain stream
someone upwind
cooking trout

Mike Gallagher
Ireland

 

atop the mountain
I draw in a scent of snow
and ponderosas

Mike Stinson

 

mountain cabin
the smell of
wet wood burning

Mohammad Azim Khan
Pakistan

 

Volcano top –
sulphur vapors
burning the throat

Monica Federico

 

leaving it to dry –
the mountain
loses smell

Muskaan Ahuja
Chandigarh, India

 

Appalachian camping
woodfire smoke
permeates the night

Nancy Brady
Huron, Ohio

 

mountain hiking –
the meadows’ fragrance
clears my mind

Natalia Kuznetsova
Russia

 

smoke thread –
snow smells of polenta
on the baita roof

Nazarena Rampini
Italy

 

closed eyes
of the mountain hermit –
scent of sunlight

Nicholas Klacsanzky
Kyiv, Ukraine

 

mountaintop
pureness
in the air

Olivier Schopfer
Geneva, Switzerland

 

deep breaths
of mountain air…
feeling taller

Pat Davis
Pembroke, NH  USA

 

mountain trail in Japan
potent mix of pristine air
and perfumed sweat

Pauline O’Carolan
Sydney, Australia

 

groundswell on the
mountain
– petrichor

Petru J Viljoen
South Africa

 

old growth –
smoke and firebreaks
ring the mountain’s flank

Philip Whitley
SC – USA

 

nostrils flaring…
the ibex decides
we’re no threat

Polona Oblak
Ljubljana, Slovenia

 

nightfall…
my discarded clothes
keep the mountain near

Pris Campbell

 

mountain trail
at the summit
the smell of success

Rachel Sutcliffe

 

cedar cutting
greenwood fresh
in my nostrils

Radhamani  sarma

 

mountain thyme scent
trying to remember
the number of world wonders

Radostina Dragostinova

 

hug at the end
of a mountain hike
sweat overwhelms

Rehn Kovacic

 

rain in the mountains :: somewhere in my bones petrichor

Réka Nyitrai

 

mountain pine
i inhale my
first time

Roberta Beary
County Mayo, Ireland

 

spring break –
the fading perfume
of alpine wildflowers

robyn brooks
usa

 

cookies baking
in the Black Hills
Ponderosa Pine bark

Ronald K. Craig
Batavia, OH  USA

 

at dawn
the pleasant smell of moss
wet from the dew

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

 

acrid smoke
wildfire climbs
the mountain

Ruth Powell

 

fallen pine cone
I pick up the scent
of mountain nights

Sanjuktaa Asopa

 

mountain monastery
the smell of incense
as morning clouds burn off

Sari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY, USA

 

mountain trail
tart smell
of wilde vine

Serhiy Shpychenko
Kyiv, Ukraine

 

snow-capt etna
a fried egg breakfast
a whiff of sulphur

simonj
UK

 

hostel breakfast
by my plate a sprig
of edelweiss

Skaidrite Stelzer
Toledo, Ohio

 

escape under the rain
in a mountain hut –
the smell of wet dog

Slobodan Pupovac
Zagreb, Croatia

 

breathing deep
the smell of possibility
in the clear mountain air

Stephen A. Peters

 

down hill
deepen in pines
turn by turn

Sudebi Singha
India

 

thin, fresh air
musky turf…

mountain silence

Susan Lee Roberts
Sacramento, CA, USA

 

suddenly
in this mountain breeze
wild mint

Susan Rogers
Los Angeles, CA, USA

 

childhood memories…
the grape Kool-aid smell
of mountain laurel

Terri French

 

Pyrenees excursion
fresh goat cheese
fills the cabin

Tia Haynes
Lakewood, Ohio, USA

 

mountainside joyride
just me
and the scent of ahh

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

 

temple…
a smell of a mountain and
fragrance of incense

Tsanka Shishkova

 

mountain breeze –
the scent
of heaven

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio   USA

 

kids’ winter camp
the room smells
of vicks vaporub

Vandana Parashar

 

mountain road –
the scent of lemongrass
eases my nerves

(In India, the lemongrass grows in the hills of South India.)

Vidya Venkatramani

 

fleeting needles
the pine scent nips me
in mountain dream

Vishnu Kapoor

 

Chinese tourists
smell fresh air for the first time
hiking in the mountains

Yiming Zhao
Whittier, California, USA

 

 

Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada and an Associate Member of the League of Canadian Poets. She recently co-edited an anthology of crime-themed haiku called Body of Evidence: a collection of killer ’ku.

 

This Post Has 88 Comments

  1. Alan Summers, – I belatedly read your account of being a “mall Santa”. I never thought of it as being a “social worker” – but with a truly caring Santos, it certainly must be!

    What a lovely Christmas “gift” for children- and probably for you as well.

  2. A beautiful reading! Thank you Katherine, since I go less often in the mountains I need these full immersion

  3. I forgot that of course pine would be a dominant essence for mountain haiku! We even use pine scent for our town and city apartments. From a fear of forests we also bring in a fascination, and for some of us, a need to bring that wild nature, a little tamed, into our urban lives.
    .
    So it shouldn’t be surprising that there are fourteen pine haiku featured this week! 🙂
    .
    .

    pine-scented fog
    adding creamer
    to my campfire coffee
    .
    Kimberly Esser
    Los Angeles, CA
    .
    .

    treeline
    we leave the scent of pine
    behind
    .
    andrew shimield
    .
    .

    persistent choristers
    up through smoky canyons
    pine siskins
    .
    Devin Harrison
    .
    .

    scent of pine
    tempts hikers
    towards the summit
    .
    Giedra Kregzdys
    Woodhaven, NY
    .
    .
    mountain girl
    the scent of pines
    my favorite perfume
    .
    Greer Woodward
    Kamuela, HI
    .
    .

    reaching the snow line
    the scent of pine needles
    from her thicker socks
    .
    John Hawkhead

    .
    .

    pine-scented fog
    adding creamer
    to my campfire coffee
    .
    Kimberly Esser
    Los Angeles, CA
    .
    .

    back in the city
    pining
    for the scent of pine
    .
    Lori Zajkowski
    New York, NY
    .
    .

    Pine and Aspen duff, my feet
    on this redolent forest trail –
    mountain mist
    .
    Mary Ellen Gambutti
    Sarasota, FL
    .
    .

    mountain pine
    i inhale my
    first time
    .
    Roberta Beary
    County Mayo, Ireland
    .
    .

    cookies baking
    in the Black Hills
    Ponderosa Pine bark
    .
    Ronald K. Craig
    Batavia, OH USA
    .
    .

    fallen pine cone
    I pick up the scent
    of mountain nights
    .
    Sanjuktaa Asopa

    .
    .
    down hill
    deepen in pines
    turn by turn
    .
    Sudebi Singha
    India
    .
    .

    fleeting needles
    the pine scent nips me
    in mountain dream
    .
    Vishnu Kapoor
    .
    .

    Between a noun and a verb:
    https://www.etymonline.com/word/pine
    .
    .
    I’d forgotten I’ve written about pines too, and of course pine dominated British households for a time, hence a sequence I wrote for the last Bones journal issue.
    .
    .
    Here are some standalone pine haiku from me in the meantime:
    .
    .

    Walpurgisnacht
    a nuthatch enters
    the scots pine
    .
    Alan Summers
    The Heron’s Nest Vol. XVII, Number 1: March 2015
    .
    .

    an older heartbeat
    the blur of a pine marten
    on the glacier road

    .
    Alan Summers
    Yanty’s Butterfly Haiku Nook: An Anthology (2016)
    ed. Jacob Salzer & The Nook Editorial Staff
    ISBN-10: 1329915410. ISBN-13: 978-1329915411
    https://jsalzer.wixsite.com/yantysbutterfly
    .
    .

    Toshugu shrine pines
    I try to stay as still –
    mist and dew

    .
    Alan Summers
    World Haiku Review Japan Article – Vending machines and cicadas (March 2003); Hermitage (2005); Travelogue on World Haiku Festival 2002 Part 1 (Akita International Haiku Network 2010)
    .
    Anthology: We Are All Japan (Karakia Press 2012)
    Pamphlet: The In-Between Season (With Words Pamphlet Series 2012)
    .

  4. thank you, Kathy and all, another delightful selection!
    among other fine poems Roberta Beary’s stood out for me

  5. I thoroughly enjoyed all of this week’s poems. Redolent of mountains, all right! Thank you Kathy and fellow high country wanderers.

  6. Thanks KJ for all the effort compiling this week’s. It’s funny how sometimes those of us who are adjacent in the alphabet touch on the same themes or phrases (hello Marion!)

    1. thanks Mark – it’s true – & sometimes similar submissions are received at the same time too… from different poets in different parts of the world…

  7. Lovely selection again – earth, woodsmoke and pure air.

    I specially loved:
    ***
    towards the peak
    the spilled perfume
    of mountain lilies
    ***
    Anthony Rabang
    ***
    home again
    sharpening a pencil
    a hint of mountains
    ***
    Marietta McGregor

  8. Oh, the sense of smell! Scents have the ability to transport us back to certain people and places in an instant. I thoroughly enjoyed all the mountain scents this week. Thank you, Kathy for choosing and commenting on my poem.

  9. Happy to be with you all again this week. And a special shout out to my fellow moss sniffers, Alessandra, Angela, and Rosa!

  10. Thank you for including mine among all this wonderful mountain air haiku. I was thinking of my local Karma Triyana Dharmachakra monastery which is up on the mountain. I particularly like Tsanka Shishkova’s haiku and Randy Brooks’s that you commented on was also very cool. Thank you Kathy for your wonderful job with this feature.

    1. Thank you Sari Grandstaff! I love going to the temples in the mountains. I love their aroma and the comfort they give me. Maybe for that, in your haiku I find my thoughts and feelings.
      I’m glad to find a soul mate.

  11. puns and playfulness are ingredients of haiku but are not always enough. This one from Blessed Ayeyame is a beaut….
    *
    mountain air
    enough scent
    to last my descent

  12. Dear esteemed poet,
    Warm greetings! This haiku has given me a wonderful opportunity
    to google to know the significance of Kalaat M’Gouna and the link establishing connectivity.
    very informative.

    with regards
    S.Radhamani

    Kalaat M’Gouna
    the man with a rose
    behind his ear

    Alan Summers
    Wiltshire, England

    1. Thank you dear Radhamani Sarma,
      .
      .
      There is various spellings for this special place which is world famous for producing roses for food, and perfume etc…
      .
      The Roses Festival takes place in Kelaat M’gouna every year in May.
      .
      It lasts 7 days to celebrate the season of roses in Dadès and M’Goun. In 2015, the number of visitors of the festival reached 300,000. During the festival, people from all over the country and the world come to qalaat Mgouna to discover its beauty, and for its rose products that range from perfume, rose water, oil, to cosmetic products
      .
      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalaat_M%27Gouna
      .
      .
      There are hedgerows with roses embedded in them too! 🙂
      .
      .
      Kalaat M’Gouna
      the man with a rose
      behind his ear
      .
      Alan Summers

  13. mountain path
    missing in the fog…
    bonfire smoke
    .
    Marta Chocilowska
    .
    .
    and
    .
    .
    cedar cutting
    greenwood fresh
    in my nostrils
    .
    Radhamani sarma
    .
    .
    I love these two haiku! 🙂
    .
    There is something about fog and smoke, especially bonfire smoke, be it just burning off wood in general, or the big British bonfire festivals, and other ones in other countries. Great smells, except the delicious aroma of smoke becomes most foul the next day on our clothing. 🙂
    .
    .

    Another great poem about smell!
    .
    This is an incredible phrase:
    .
    “greenwood fresh in my nostrils”
    .
    .
    Thank you so much you two authors, and everyone else, and for Kathy to get us to write about smell first and foremost. Smell is like a great sound and visual image when played in my mind. We often don’t incorporate this kind of scent/smell, but we will now! 🙂

      1. Dear S.Radhamani
        .
        Your haiku
        .
        .
        cedar cutting
        greenwood fresh
        in my nostrils
        .
        Radhamani sarma
        .
        .
        Although we might commonly use ‘green wood’ as in freshly cut, I really do like putting the two words together to capture that ‘extra’ tang of cedar.

    1. Thank you very much, for your comment, dear Alan! 🙂 I’m so glad you like my poem! It means a lot to me 🙂
      To avoid the strong a foul odor on our clothes I could try not to describe the source of a smoke:

      mountain path
      missing in the fog . . .
      a smoke smell

      You’re lost in the foggy mountains and suddenly you can sniff a smoke – what smoke? From the chimney? from the bonfire? from a cigarette? It is not known, but it can mean rescue

      Best wishes
      Marta

      1. Thanks Claire!
        .
        .
        Your haiku:
        .
        .
        the room’s smell
        of calamine lotion
        mountain mosquitoes
        .
        Claire Vogel Camargo
        .
        .
        Calamine lotion seemed to permeate and almost percolate while on holiday, with mozzies in France in particular. I’m also very familiar with mozzies in India, Australia, and Germany, but the Sri Lanka mangrove ones were reasonably friendly, as we were in an eco-lodge complex, interestingly enough.
        .
        Not encountered mountain mozzies, they sound even more ferocious than the Cologne ones I had to endure, which were like being punched, and the swellings several times larger than any others.
        .
        It makes me remember my father in later years permeated the whole family home with Olbas as he put on its oil, had the pastilles and other forms. Calamine and Olbas both ends of my childhood!

        1. we also have a few mosquitoes in the Yukon…
          thank you Alan, S.Radhamani, Marta & Claire for all your comments here!

    2. Dear Radhamani sarma,
      .
      Just saw this quote on Twitter:
      .
      .
      “To enter a wood is to pass into a different world in which we are transformed. It is no accident that in Shakespeare’s comedies, people go into the greenwood to grow, learn & change. it is where you travel to find yourself, paradoxically, by getting lost.”
      Roger Deakin, Wildwood
      https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/54385/wildwood/
      .
      .
      I have the book both in print and on Kindle. It’s not perfect, but it is magical.
      .
      .
      That’s why I loved the word ‘greenwood’ in your haiku:
      .
      .
      cedar cutting
      greenwood fresh
      in my nostrils
      .
      Radhamani sarma
      .
      .

  14. Another Wednesday treat, to immerse oneself in all these wonderful mountain scents . . . even the wet dog and sheep manure! Thank you everyone, and thank you kj for including one of mine.

  15. thin, fresh air
    musky turf…
    .
    mountain silence
    .
    Susan Lee Roberts
    Sacramento, CA, USA
    .
    .
    I love the use of an entire blank line before ‘mountain silence’!
    It’s incredibly effective, especially as I just read two lines, and didn’t see a next line, then looked lower after a couple of seconds (of silence). Wonderful technique!

    1. thanks Alan – I’m so glad the extra line came through as intended… sometimes the formatting can be challenging, & it doesn’t always turn out the way I expect!

  16. childhood memories…
    the grape Kool-aid smell
    of mountain laurel
    .
    Terri French
    .
    Learning more again, I discover the Texas Wildflower smells like grape Kool-aid! And why not. 🙂
    .
    What a wonderful poem line by line by line, thank you!
    .

  17. cold day on the slopes
    Oma’s glow wine spices
    fill the air
    .
    Christina Chin
    Kuching, Sarawak
    .
    .
    I’ve drunk mulled wine over many a Christmas over the decades, so was intrigued by ‘glow wine’ which turns out to be the traditional German recipe: https://www.quick-german-recipes.com/wine-cookies.html
    .
    From that web link I also discovered that “just like Oma” is a brand named after the pictured woman perhaps. Of course the British Royal family has always had strong German connections, an issue that helped cause WWI unfortunately.
    .
    Although I don’t ski, I’ve been on many a snow scape through Europe and Britain mostly, and a hot mulled/spiced wine (beer or cider) revives the flagging spirit and warms the toes! 🙂
    .
    I really enjoyed this haiku, and learnt something extra, which is always a bonus for me.
    .

    1. I too like this haiku, mulled wine, and ski slopes. In Holland and Germany oma means grandma. A great brand name for traditional recipes, like Glühwein. Just the way grandma made it. 🙂 I wish I was there.

      1. Thanks Corine, I hadn’t made the connection between Grandma and Oma. Sadly I never knew any grandparents from my adoptive family, but thousands through being a professional Santa off and on for the last ten years! 🙂

          1. Hi Corine,
            Being a Santa is highly rewarding but not for the obvious reasons. It’s more akin to being a social worker, agony aunt/uncle, bringing comfort to children who have lost a parent, or when the city council is breaking up an entire family.
            .
            Last year was another couple of firsts, including two boys who were crying inconsolably about leaving me! Often children cry out in horror as a huge bearded man, not this time.
            .
            I literally had to hug one child as he was so upset, and tell him he was loved. Last year I was on ‘open display’ and also roaming, while previous years I was in a small dark room. So this time I could see the parents two or more times, and both adults and children would wave.
            .
            We also did secret selections as we had no presents, but a dozen big gift vouchers. Almost every time I picked out a family group for my elf to run after, it turned out they had suffered a great loss, and feared facing the Christmas festivities.
            .
            Then there was a wonderful woman who approached me and said last time a Santa was racist but she knew she’d like me. I could have cried a hundred times during my six weeks as Santa, but I have to put on a brave face, but I NEVER do banal greetings, it’s always deeply personal to each child, whether they are one week old or eighty years old.
            .
            It’s a tough gig, because I cannot do generic, and to see some families passing a few times, or an individual, whether child or adult, secretly waving, wanting acknowledgement that they can see through the toughness of winter and Christmas, is deeply moving.
            .
            I do love it, even when I sometimes cry inside.

      1. There’s nothing better than jumping in fully with both feet into a project to learn about haiku and related genres. This is a brilliant feature you’ve created Kathy! 🙂

  18. Kathy, thank-you for including my haiku. Congratulations to all the poets who were selected this week.

  19. Thank you, Kathy. Each poem is like taking a fragrant walk in the mountains. A wonderful selection from wonderful poets who transport us to a Sense of Place.

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