A thought

When it is cold and draughty we shut our windows and pull close our doors – it also makes us as people more secretive, private and individual. Come summer, with the loo whipping at us, we throw the casements open, look upon our neighbours and do not shy away from their gazes. Is it simply the climate of a place that dictates character, why the tropics are so much more communal compared to the more inhibited temperate zones?

For a change

'New haiku on the header' alert.

These past few weeks, I had one by JW Hackett:

Sometimes the oddest thing,
like this orange pip,
begs not to be thrown away.

This one struck a chord at once. It is quite true: odd things end up wanting to be kept. Go on a daylong hike, pick up a pretty pebble or cut yourself a wedge of walking stick — by the end of the day, it's quite a job to wean yourself away, pat it on the head and tell it quite firmly that it can't come home with you.

But I have a new one:

spouting philosophy —
a giant salamander
has been watching us
~ Brent Partridge

It makes me laugh, this vivid haiku. A phlegmatic salamander with unblinking eyes and ugly snub face — watching us as we expound on weighty matters. Not only is the shift in perception and perspective sudden, it alters the context: the 'aha' that haiku writers crave.
Intellect—and intertwined with it, language—are quite the most overrated of our gifts. They entertain us certainly but we value them more perhaps than we should. The salamander... knows the things the salamander knows.

Katra katra

Sheetal read vampire books.
Sheetal drink civilised glass of blood for breakfast every morning.
gr...r.r...kkk.

Muahahaahah!