Haiku From Real Life

This morning, while turning off the porch light, I was treated to this small drama. There was something haiku-like about the event in its brief simplicity.

The street I live on is a popular walking route. Across from my house I saw a woman dressed in exercise warmups thoughtfully attending to a bottlebrush tree which bordered the sidewalk. What caught my eye was the movement of small bunches of branches and stems falling to the ground. I watched as she stood back, contemplatively eyed the tree, then resumed her trimming with her bare hands. It interested me that there was nothing furtive about her movements, despite the tree belonging to someone else. I noticed that she not only pulled off the shoots that overhung the sidewalk, but was tenderly shaping the tree all around. She reached for a vine that entangled the back-side of the tree, then tugged hard to release and then break off the offending stems. Again she stood back and observed her work with bonsai-like care. Satisfied, she continued on her walk without a backward glance. At that very moment the front door of the house opened, the owner walked out to the driveway to retrieve his morning newspaper. Neither of the two people noticed each other. The man walked back into his house, shutting his door.

Lovely symmetry and simplicity.