When I grew up we had a weekend house an hour’s drive from town. It was located at the end of a gravel road behind a spruce tree hedge. We always went there on Friday evening and I remember how my mother used to fill bottles with warm water so we could sleep in the cold beds. The house was far from any lights and on moonless nights I remember running from the outhouse to the house being haunted by the fear of monsters and the hoots from the tawny owl. The days were spent with forestry and chopping wood, but in the evening we would sit in front of the fireplace while reading books.
singe of paws in fallen leaves —
green eyes shimmer
Today it’s Haibun Monday at dVerse and Victoria hosts and wants us to write about Fukuroo – the Owl. Owl is a winter kigo but you can write about any season. Please keep the prose to under 200 words and write you