Celebrating 10 years of Blockhead with a selection of past posts.
Last night a fierce frost glazed the puddles and raised tiny pillars of ice on the fringes of the fields. Before sunrise, the orange in the east was answered by the palest rose tint in the western sky. As the color deepened, it seeped into the snow of Mount Fuji. Across the valley, Mount Oyama and the hills of Tanzawa were also brushed red with reflected light.
This New Year morning
the iron kettle quietly steams
on the wood stove
For the stove, fuel is any seasoned wood that comes to hand.
They shod me for years
And burn in minutes just:
Old geta wooden clogs
By noon, there’s a gusty wind, roiling the crowns of the towering evergreen trees, and sending pigeons and crows tumbling across the cloudless sky.
--Julian
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