The North Country, Pt. 1

The verses in this series were written on the spot during the most recent of the annual fishing trips taken by my dad, my brother, and I to northern New York (west of Watertown, to be exact). I added the prose later. The first three parts have been posted elsewhere, but for the sake of consolidation I'll put it here on Blogger as well. (There are still enough haiku left for three or four more installments; I just haven't gotten motivated yet to put them all together. Also, I'm not sure where that notebook is.)

***

Having been used to summer in Orlando, the comparatively cool, dry nothern New York air was refreshing! Walking through the airport doors in Syracuse was particularly great; my brother helped me throw my luggage in the Buick, and we drove to the lake. My small, upstairs cottage bedroom looks like a monk's cell right out of Dostoevsky; it has a creaky bed and a perpetually-open window facing the street and land (not the water). It's a very snug room, but tends to make one sneeze too frequently. After drinking one or two cans of Busch outside, I climb the steep, narrow stairs to bed.

Feeling for the light,
A chorus of insects--
Cool summer evening

***

The cottage itself is built atop a seawall on Guffins Bay, Lake Ontario. Barn swallows make their nests in nooks and under eaves along the shoreline, and it's good to sit on the porch, watching their complicated acrobatics and listening to the waves wash over the rocks and algae.

The swallows
Nearly dip their wings
In the sun-flecked waves!

To Be Continued.