With a climate like ours, we can camp nearly all year round.
But, here's the thing. We don't.
We're busy.
Weekends fill up.
Time flies.

But this weekend we made it happen.
It was everything it was supposed to be.
Lucky us.

Haiku 12

Who needs the indoors
when it's spring time in Texas
and the trees are tall?

There was a time I could not believe I was buying a minivan.
What did it say about me, my life, my focus, my aesthetic, my rapidly-dimming hipness?

Nowadays, I just can't believe how old that minivan is.
How one of the automatic doors doesn't work anymore.
How full of dog hair it is, no matter the vacuuming.
How many many miles we've put on it driving across town and across country.

I think it's fair to say I'm fond of the dang thing and mourning her age a little.
There. I said it.

Haiku 11

So many long miles —
one hundred forty-six grand!
Maintenance required.

Things start early at our house, well before the sun comes up.
The cats cry to be fed, the pup wants a walk.
Gym clothes are missing. Permission slips need to be signed.

It's Wednesday, right smack-dab in the middle of the week, and we try to wipe the slate clean and call it morning.

Haiku 10

Wednesday rise and shine
with leftover Easter eggs
Each bite a fresh start

Sometimes when you're in a hurry there's nothing like a little time on the trail to slow you down.
Especially if a caterpillar's in your way.

Haiku 9

Today rushes by
This caterpillar comma
says hold up, slow down

I get a bad case of poison ivy nearly every spring — and it's usually thanks to my dogs or cats.
They go stomping through the woods, break the tender stalks and leaves, and come home dripping with the toxic oil.
I pet them. Naturally. That's just what I do.

It is hard to maintain suspicion, skepticism, fear or anger on a morning walk but poison ivy doesn't bring out the best in a girl.

Haiku 8

Oh, poison ivy —
fresh and pretty but so mean,
dusting the dog's coat.

Public art is nothing so much as a concrete expression of hope —
that beauty still matters, even in this mad, mad world…
that we as people can come together around it…
that there is value in pausing and breathing and taking note.

These pretty strings of glass buoys in a canal in Scottsdale said all that to me.

Haiku 7

Glass, light, reflection
punctuate the waterway,
say: pause, stop, wow, why.

A weekend away is made evermore potent if palm trees are involved.
Don't you think?

Haiku 6

Palm tree as symbol:
Nothing that I have to do
except write haiku

To me, hiking is the ultimate in multi-tasking:
Take in fresh air? Check.
Get exercise? Check.
Absorb beauty? Roger that.
Mediate? Ooom.
Commune with companions? Yep.
And on and on.
I love how it both grounds me and sets me free.
Today was no exception.

Haiku 5

Saguaro reaching
for the available sky.
No need for deep roots.

This morning I flew to Phoenix for a little work and a little pleasure.
It was dark when I left Austin and brightening when the high desert came into view.
To me, there is nothing like an airplane ride (even an airplane ride in a cramped regional jet after a long slog through security) to give a gal a fresh perspective.

Haiku 4

Sunrise over wing
World wakes up to day down there
Clear from way up here

We wait and wait and wait for rain around here.
Last night, it came.

Haiku 3

The dry creekbed floods —
one rain changes everything!
A surprised dog swims.