Close to Equinox the daylight yields to night at such a rapid rate. We are getting used to breakfast and dinner being eaten in electric light. When we transition into winter we value every little glimpse of sun; the moon is merely a mirror of an absent sun. Every year we transition to pale beings of darkness and we light candles to remind ourselves of our loss.
Still there are hours left when sun caresses us with the soft beams of fall, so different from the light-sabres of summer.
the neighbour’s cat
just beyond the headlight’s reach —
those emerald eyes
Today Frank hosts Haibun Monday at dVerse with the topic of equinox. The autumn equinox was yesterday and the future looks darker.
September 23, 2024
Björn Rudbergs writings 
I love the contrast of dark and light in your haibun, Björn, and the thought that ‘the moon is merely a mirror of an absent sun’, and that ‘there are hours left when sun caresses us with the soft beams of fall’, so beautifully illustrated by the photo of your morning walk.
The stunning picture goes so well with the play of light in this haibun. I appreciated very much how this this is subtle, real haibun, without going for the juggular with extras that may not fit in the genre. Electric light…so true…and discomforting, though I should not wax lyrical about an alternative..p
Thank you.. I always find it hard transferring to the dark season.
I must say when I lived in Finland then Estonia autumn was daunting. I think it is a serious testament of character not to drown in it all in November, but a bright January day makes it all worthwhile: now, I say that, but the utter absurd lack of awareness of nature in Britain almost makes me yearn for autumn in the Baltics again with that darkness. I am really quite shocked at how folk in Britain just have a total disconnect with autumn (apart from the rare few, but even then, it just means putting boots on for the mud).
Your words speak to me as this transition begins. I treasure every glimpse of sun and will hold poems as my daily light through the darkness. I have yet to fall in love with winter.
Thanks for sharing. It has got me thinking about this prompt.
I have problem with darkness, but not really with the cold
This time of year becomes more important as we move north. Winter is a time of hardship and a stripping raw of nature. We ought to think more about what it means and not just turn the heating on.
I agree… I have tried to sleep outside even in winter for at least one night every now and then… but it is hard to leave the indoor niceness.
You live close to nature though so you see what is happening, the beauty and the deadly element. In towns it’s easy to just see winter as an expensive inconvenience.
“the light-sabres of summer”
Luv this
much🤍love
Love “the light-sabres of summer”.
Interesting how the latitude in which we live brings on the shortening of days much faster.
I like this thought… ; the moon is merely a mirror of an absent sun.
A longing reflection on the passing of light signified by the Equinox. I love this line, especially:
” Still there are hours left when sun caresses us with the soft beams of fall, so different from the light-sabres of summer.”
Your part of the world gets longer nights and shorter days. Ours are more balanced and after the intense summer we welcome the mild autumn and winter.
The cat’s eyes in the dark is such a great image for this poem.
A lovely description of how differently the light falls in summer versus autumn. I love having dinner by candlelight in winter’s dark.
I like how “we light candles to remind ourselves of our loss” and those emerald cat eyes in the dark!
You mentioned in a previous post – about your hiking trip – that you and your wife will attempt it in the winter months. Sounds perilous!
I’m intrigued with the cat in the haiku.
That cat! I hope it lives through such dangerous strolls.
I love the light play in this.