After a meal

Let us join Matsuo Basho in Edo. The year is 1683. Perhaps we are at Basho’s humble thatched cottage. More likely we are at the home of a friend as Basho’s haiku suggest he was not much of a cook. Perhaps it is late in the year, a holiday, a sumptuous feast, then desert.

After a meal
watch TV, then nap
— Thanksgiving

A meal is not complete until desert is served. A sweet rice cake called kusa mochi qwrapped in mugwort leaves.

Pale green, hey —
an ear protruding from
the kusa mochi cake.

青ざしや草餅の穂に出でつらん
aozashi ya kusa mochi no ho ni ide tsuran
— Matsuo Basho, 1683, age 40

青ざし (aozashi), pale green, the color of young plants or new leaves.

や (ya), used to convey emphasis.

草餅 (kusa mochi), a sweet Japanese rice cake made with mugwort (yomogi) leaves, a tall green herb. The mugwort is a digestive aide. Basho suffered stomach problems for much of his life.

に (ni), meaning “on”; 穂 (ho), literally “ear” as in the protruding spikes of the mugwort stalk.

出でつらん (ide tsuran), something that has “emerged” or “come forth.”

青ざしや草餅の穂に出でつらん
aozashi ya kusa mochi no ho ni ide tsuran

Shigure!

Shigure!
be it rain or drizzle,
it’s bordering on freezing.
— Bashō no yōna, September 2025

In late autumn of the second year of Genroku, September 1690, Basho’s disciples (蕉門 shomon) gathered at an inn or tea house (亭 te) in Iga Ueno. As everyone waited for the hot tea, they shuffled their feet and rubbed their hands in the chilly inn, Basho remarked:

to everyone and even the inn,
the Autumn drizzle
is freezing

人々を . しぐれよ宿は . 寒くとも
Hitobito wo . Shigureyo yado wa . Samuku tomo
— Matsuo Basho, September 1690

Note. Basho had been gone from Edo now for a year. He had completed the long journey into the northern interior (Oku no Hosomichi) in the summer of 1689. He was now spending time traveling around editing his magnum opus, which would not be published until after his death.

The famous Mariko teahouse by Utagawa Hiroshige, Wikipedia

Crested Butte

Five Days in Crested Butte, Colorado

It was mid-September in Crested Butte.

The mornings were cool and crisp. The kids were back in school. The guests were mostly gone.

Not me.

On Elk Street, in front of restaurants and bars and coffe shops, past art galleries and clothing shops, couples promenaded hand in hand. Or singly, with a dog. Twice, I spotted a blind man, his white cane tapping the rough pavement, a woman on his arm.

Even a blind man,
Finds the sound of Aspen leaves,
Lovely as can be.

It was not peak Aspen season. (Full foliage is mid-October.) But here and there on the mountainside, the leaves were turning golden yellow and red. Just as lovely, is the sound of the leaves fluttering in the breeze. Amazing to think, an Aspen grove is one biomass.

One day we rented E-bikes and road to the tiny town of Gothic. It was silver town, played out, now the center for the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory. A coffee shop, usually closed, a museum and gift shop, usually open, a great place to stop and chat.

Especially while it rains.

In the pouring rain,
E-bikes on the road to Gothic,
Then a moose — Wow!

— Bashō no yōna, October 2024

Deer and elk, we take for granted. A fox not often. A bear let’s hope not. Moose, should you be lucky enough to spot one, are pretty docile unless they’re cornered. It’s best to wait before you pedal onward.

Parasol Mushrooms

After the rain, little Japanese umbrellas, everywhere, planted in my garden.

After completing his epic journey into Japan’s northern interior (1689), Matsuo Basho spent several years visiting old friends in Kyoto where he spent his youth, and in and around Lake Biwa for some solitude like his mentor Saiygo, and in Ueno, the place of his birth. This was the last period of his life.

Matsutake mushrooms, ah,
clinging
precariously to a tree

松茸や . 知らぬ木の葉の . へばり付く
matsutake ya . shiranu konoha no . hebaritsuku

Matsuo Basho, Fall 1691

Basho returned to Edo as winter came on. It was a melancholy time as his nephew who he would care for was ill.

Matsutake mushrooms favor pine trees. They are known for their thick, fibrous white flesh and earthy, spicy flavor and aroma. Matsu 松 meaning pine. Basho’s surname Matsu 松尾, a pine tree at the base of the mountain. In Japan, the pine tree symbolizes many things including longevity, steadfastness, and renewal.

Parasol Mushrooms, in contrast, love the grass and the garden where mulch abounds. I’ve seen them as far south as Dallas, Texas on walks through the woods, and in Kansas in my yard and garden. Always, after it rains.

Bashō no yōna (the author of this blog) lost an oak tree a month ago. What remains is the mulch. Perhaps that is why, after it rains, tiny umbrella like mushrooms have peppered my lawn for over a month. The Latin name is Parasola plicatilis. Popular names include: Pleated Inky Cap, Parasol, and Little Japanese Umbrellas.

After it rains,
Sprouting up all over, ooh!
Little Japanese umbrellas

— Bashō no yōna, Summer 2024

Sprouting up all over, ooh!
Little Japanese umbrellas

A Week Before Christmas

At the park by the pond near the creek and the woods, by the empty baseball fields where kids play in summer, out for a walk with the dogs

It is sunny and warm
With not a whisper of wind
Somewhere between Fall and Winter
Bashō no yōna, a week before Christmas, 2023

The week before Christmas.

Ducks and geese, all day long
Are at Peace on the pond
Why can’t we?
Bashō no yōna, a week before Christmas, 2023

The other day I was reading Basho’s haiku about the withering wind the kind that strips a tree of leaves and turn one’s cheeks quite red. Today it’s quite nice.

こがらしや頬腫痛む人の顔
Kogarashi ya hoobare itamu hito no kao

The wind that wilts the leaves.
Swells my cheeks and aches
My face.
Matsuo Basho, Between Fall and Winter, 1690

Secret Spots

Children have more of them and dogs discover them easily. Secret spots were imagination takes hold of the mind. As we wander one wonders as we grow older do we forget to act more like children and dogs.

It’s not a public park, but one of those secret spots one comes across and claims for one’s own, but still is willing to share with other intrepid souls who appreciate its beauty. One comes here to see how things change from season to season, and year to year.

To Go or Not to Go

December 15, 2023
Middle America

Ten days before Christmas, the shopping is done, the house is festive, thanks to the wife. Bashō no yōna, the 21st century disciple of Matsuo Basho (aren’t we all?), has one job. Let the dog out in the morning. So, he gets up, makes the coffee, and finds the dog at the back door, looking puzzled.

It is raining outside.

It’s raining outside,
The dog’s at the door, she pauses,
To go or stay, we wonder!
Bashō no yōna, December 2023

No one likes the rain in December.

初しぐれ猿も小蓑をほしげ也
hatsu shigure saru mo komino o hoshige nari

first winter shower
(first freezing drizzle)
a monkey, it seems,
wants something to wear, like us.
Matsuo Basho, Monkey’s Raincoat, Winter 1689

hatsu (first) shigure (cold autumn/winter rain) saru (monkey) mo (too, also) komino (something to wear) o hoshige (wanting something, i.e. to wear, a raincoat) nari (also)

Monkey’s Raincoat

Baby it is cold out there.

When Basho and his friends showed up for a renga party, sometime towards the end of the year, they did so in the freezing rain wearing overcoats to protect the from the steady drizzle, (shigure).

Shigure, is that steady downfall that comes in late fall and early winter, the kind that soaks one to the bone.

Sarumino, or the Monkey’s Raincoat, is the fifth of the seven poetry anthologies compiled by Basho and his disciples. It was written in Ueno (his hometown), Kyoto and Omi, along Lake Biwa. Composed as a form of renga by Basho and his disciples and was published in 1691, three years before Basho’s death. Edited by Kyorai and Boncho.

初しぐれ猿も小蓑をほしげ也
hatsu shigure saru mo komino o hoshige nari

Source Notes.

Gabi Greve’s excellent website on all things Basho has multiple translations of the Japanese text.

The Monkey’s Raincoat online in book form by the Haiku Foundation.

Pooh Park

Aka Chisholm Park

Between Fall and Winter
On a blustery day, I went for a jog
In Pooh Park
Bashō no yōna, between fall and winter, 2023

‘Pooh Park’ better known as Chisholm Creek Park, home to the Great Plains Nature Center in Sedgwick County, Kansas. The volunteer at the Center explaining that the park has about one hundred acres of woods and fields, and all sorts of critters, but no bears, making it not quite ‘Pooh Perfect.’

Pooh, full name, Winnie the Pooh, is the creation of English author A. A. Milne and English illustrator E. H. Shepard. Pooh is a Matsuo Basho like bear who speaks in rhymes, while curiously seeking adventure.

How do you get to Pooh Park?

Cross the bridge
if you dare,
to enter Pooh Park
Bashō no yōna, between fall and winter, 2023

Beware, you’ll have fun.

cross the bridge if you dare to enter Pooh Park

A Fiasco

French Revolution

There have been three successful French Revolutions (1789, 1830, and 1848) and quite a few unsuccessful ones.

A Fiasco!
from the get go to the end
— French Revolution
Bashō no yōna, November 2023

While taking a class on Modern French History at his local university, Basho no yona, the author of this blog about Matsuo Basho, and everything Basho, and some things added, got to thinking about making haiku.

Haiku-ing, a verb, turning a tiny moment in time from a prose statement into three lines of verse, creating a haiku.

Try it,
making two things something quite new,
haikui-ing for fun
Bashō no yōna, November 2023

The Chestnut

Autumn 1691, 4th year of Genroku
Basho, age 47

It is late November and the Maple leaves have turned red and gold, while the Chestnut leaves, once mostly green, begin to turn yellow and brown. The cold wind knocks the leaves and chestnuts to the ground.

This haiku has little meaning unless you imagine fuke as a nod to a fortuitous event, the wind; and domo, a shorter way of saying ‘arigato,’ a polite way of saying, ‘thank you’ to the wind for the chestnuts blown down from the tree.

The autumn wind
shakes down
bright green chestnuts

秋風の吹けども青し栗の毬
aki kaze no fuke domo aoshi kuri no iga
Matsuo Basho, Autumn 1691

aki kaze (autumn wind, breeze) no (particle showing connection) fuke domo (blowing, falling down) aoshi (deep green color) kuri no iga (Chestnuts)

Like in England, in Japan, chestnuts are a favored fall food. Strangely, here in the US, not so much, despite that great song by Mel Torme, The Christmas Song, about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. While in Europe and Japan, the winter season finds street vendors roasting chestnuts in hand-cranked drums, then shoveling them into paper holders for kids from one to ninety-two.

Staying Grounded

It feels good to walk in your backyard in one’s bare feet. It is one way of staying grounded. I have a Chestnut tree in my backyard and the sharp spiny chestnuts remind me this life, this day, this moment, I am not dreaming.

aki kaze no fuke domo aoshi kuri no iga, 秋風の吹けども青し栗の毬

October

October 2023, Year 5 Reiwa

Four inches of rain fell yesterday, Now it is cloudy and cold here in the Arkansas Valley in the Great Plains of America, a hard freeze is expected tonight. The lettuce will wilt, but how about the spinach and radish?

It’s cold and cloudy,
with nothing to do,
— haiku
Bashō no yōna, Arkansas Valley, October

Haiku

OK, this is not traditional haiku in the sense that it’s not three lines of 5 syllables, 7, and 5, nor is this any combination thereof. It does, however, follow Matsuo Basho‘s formula of combining two ideas to create something different.

Arthur Koestler wrote The Act of Creation, a 1964 book that tackles ‘bisociative’ thinking and man’s constant battle between habit and originality. His idea that one plus one can make something unique is like Basho’s haiku. It’s the same concept behind every joke.

What about compound words? A fire house is not a house on fire, it’s a place where fire engines leave to take care of fires.

Germans love compound words. Take, for example, ‘Zeitgeist.‘ (German grammar capitalizes a noun, is it necessary?) that mean spirit (geist) of the times (zeit). In 17th century Japan, war was over, times to have a little fun parsing words, scrambling phrases, composing thoughts.

Taking the Dogs on a Walk

Oh, here comes the sun,
Little darling,
It’s all right!
A riff on the Beatles song Two of Us, 1969

Time to take the dogs on a walk at the park, the park being Pawnee Prairie Park. Here there are open fields and dark woods through which flows a creek. The creek being Chisholm Creek. Cattle heading up the Chisholm Trail once watered here. Today, horses and riders take advantage of the trails. There is a sidewalk for city-folk, but I prefer the woods and fields, where the deer run. The dogs agree.

The sun is setting, it is getting dark, the walk is almost over. The dogs are off the leash and panting. Did not Basho teach us to break rules, make fun. Don’t be a melon split in two.

Rules
Are made and broken,
Making new rules to break.