It’s a shorty today, actually a short-and-shady dispatch as I take a bit of a breather to bounce back from my second shingles vaccination. I’m feeling a little banged up. So self medicating with a meditative photography taken this morning paired with a meditative haiku drafted this afternoon. From shingles vaccine side effects to a hammock and shadow haiku? Yep.
I received my first (Shingrix) intramuscular injection in my left arm a few months ago. No side effects at all. Barely even any soreness at the injection site. But when I awoke this morning after receiving my second jab yesterday, I felt like I’ve been in a car crash. Superduper aches from tête-to-toe. I was slightly congested, headachy, and running a fever of a couple of degrees. But my nephews had agreed to help Glen, Tony, and me move the boat dock and boat lift into deeper water, and I wasn’t willing to risk pushing that back. After a month and a half of drought, it makes sense to ensure good deep water. So I rallied long enough to take care of the essentials. Once dock and lift were relocated and adjusted I walked out onto the covered pier of the boathouse and witnessed this. The hammock and shadow appeared to be in conversation, the subtlest of motion from the morning breeze animated the real rope-and-oak echoed by its shade-facsimile cast perfectly by the early sun.
Such a tranquillizing, if familiar, view. But something else struck me this morning. The notion that the hammock and the shadow hammock were engaged in discourse, the sort of introspective conversations we have with ourselves all the time. Sorting and scheming, worrying or wondering. This scene, this image was every part a visual dialogue, and I, a voyeur witnessing this intimate morning contemplation instantly experienced a wave of gratitude. I was struck by the many ways that we witness Rosslyn’s contemplative conversations. So many glimpses into her whim and wisdom.
Hammock & Shadow Haiku
Braided rope cradles
second self, a dream double
of breeze and sunlight.
What do you think?