Smiths Lake and the rambling house we built there, with its long verandas |
and acres of windows looking out over lush rain-forest, was more than
just a village to me. It was the home for which I had ever craved, providing
comfort, welcome and rehabilitation.
Over the sandbar
washed the mighty Pacific,
rhythmic and roaring.
Foundations were laid by my brother shortly after the accident which rendered
me disabled, placing me months in traction, absent from action. He came to
visit every Tuesday, bringing a brick, a tile, a photograph, a paint chart...
all so I would not be left out of the process entirely.
Two hours driving south,
hair-pin bends, pot-holes, boulders
...and then back again.
October 1981 we took possession with still some minor tasks for completion.
He tiled the laundry and I grouted, lying on my stomach, no longer able to
do things as others might. Yet here was a haven of wild-life and cool ocean
breezes where my children could grow, safe and happy.
Haibun with senryu
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