She walked in the fog, along the back acres of an old abandoned farm. The nearly bare trees of late autumn seemed to hold out their branches, like arms tending dark comfort to a lost soul. The outhouses seemed to have stood for many years completely abandoned. The fencing reduced to strands of spider-web like metal, created streamers of rust held together by the memory of wire.
The wind rustled softly through the trees causing a rain-fall of dead leaves. She heard the sound of a siren somewhere in the distance and then the distant rumble of thunder followed by a flash of lightening.
A sudden crash came from the undergrowth. There standing before her was a roe. Bright beautiful eyes gazed calmly at her, there was no fear, no apprehension and no curiosity. It was as though she weren’t there at all. She moved towards the roe which continued to ignore her. She reached out her hand to touch the roe, but discovered she couldn’t.
More thunder, this time loud enough to seem like the crash of a bomb – an instant later the white flash of lightening followed by the sound of pouring rain.
She awoke with a start and set up in her bed. A storm she thought, her dream faded rapidly and was soon almost forgotten, except for a vague sense of unease that settled in her soul. Not wanting to go back to sleep, she turned on the light, arose from her bed and went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Grabbing a couple of cookies, she went into the dining room. There on the wall she saw the large Indian ink print she’d bought that afternoon and thought of the back acres of an old farm immersed in a wooded cove on a foggy day.
late autumn night
winter stalks the country-side
dead leaves fall like rain
This haibun was inspired by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Tuesday Photo Challenge #87: November 17, 2015 – what would appear to be a photo seems to actually be a fascinating ink drawing. Click the link on the photo and enlarge it … thanks Pat for a great experience!
Bastet and Sekhmet's Library 