On my solo vacation Sep‘18 I did a lot of walking around in nature and not worrying about things. At Pine Log Creek, I wrote a number of “images”. These aren’t really haiku, but they are extemporaneous, simple, nature-related, and have a sort of haiku-like semantic structure.

A sunlit pond backed by sheer dark rocks, light splashing back from underneath.

Cracked stone of a steep climb—almost boring, but they’re the visible sign of the roots of a mountain stretching taller, deeper, and further back than human mind was made to comprehend.

The sprouts of moss, tree stumps taller than me collapsing inwards; how different it looks coming back the other way!

A valley the size of a stone’s throw: dappled sunlight lands on the bed of ferns filling the space between great trees—as if Cretaceous Antarctica.

Accidentally coming across the highest place as far as I can see. A splash of brilliant red—a flower, or the leaves turning but still young?

A drop of moss in the middle of the path, just hanging on.

At Amicalola I found myself ready with an English-language haiku.

Sunlit trail,
Shaded rock — there
Water echoes.

I have a note here saying that “any syllable can be a kireji!”. I suppose I’m referring to “there”, but I’m not sure why this was such a sticking point for me at the time. Perhaps because cutting words are so poorly understood in English, but here was where I made sense of them in my own head?

Now that I’m home, perhaps I’ll try for a translation into Japanese:

hi-sandou
kage-maruishi ya
hibaku naru

I may be taking some liberties be placing “hi” (sun) and “kage” (shade) as prefixes on “sandou” (mountain trail) and “maruishi” (boulder). Nevertheless, there’s “hinata”, which means “sunny place”, so the construction is motivated. I particularly like the sound of “hibaku naru”, as I think it’s almost close to what a waterfall sounds like.