It was the strawberry season. I know that for certain because a mysterious rash had confined me to sick bay. An allergy was suspected but until confirmed there were to be no visitors. Was it something I ate? I appeared mystified but quietly suspected that after all it had to be the strawberries - the sheer quantity of them. Only a couple of days earlier on a Sunday walk, friends and I had poked through a gap in a hedge and there before us lay acres of fat, ripe berries, their lusciousness pillowed with a straw underlay. We gorged like Bacchanalians and here was I now suffering the results of greed and theft and guilt. Supper had been and gone, and the solitary hours felt sluggish against the tempo of the school's distant sounds. Suddenly an owl called out, several repetitions, very clear and near. 'Kewick-kewick" - such piercing cries, enough to shatter the punishing silence. It was the sound of companionship. Then and there I penned the first of many unfledged poems, unadorned and eponymous: 'The Owl'.
field mice foragers
velvet feet on soft fruit beds
summer's ease for owls
Notes: ‘Kewick’- the sound of female tawny owl – only her mate hoots -see owl calls
Reminiscing on the days before polytunnels and very pleased that Victoria chose my favourite bird for this week’s “Fukuroo–Who? Who? Who? dVerse Haibun Monday
PoetryPix 
It’s hard not to resist fresh fruits when it’s their season. I’d probably have done the same as a child, especially for blueberries.
Really lovely!
Comments have been disappearing for a day or two – hope this one takes – loved the haiku and prose – and the artwork!
For some reason the spam catcher sidelined your very nice comment – happy to have retrieved you!
Wonder why?
spam catchers are not the brightest of buttons in the box!!
Ha!
I love everything about this….the reminiscence….a rash from gorging in a field of strawberries….and then the wonderful owl that has since been your muse. Wonderful post!
Oh thank you Lilian – it was both an ordinary & momentous moment when the Muse called out 😉
More likely the pesticides on the strawberries…………I so love your haiku. I love owls, too.
Probably a touch of guilt too but then we therapists look for the less obvious 😉 struggled with the haiku so thank you Sherry
I remember my sister having a strong reaction to plums once (not stolen actually)… but I do love the visiting owl.. almost like it wanted to tell you something…
The haiku is amazing
A plum reaction can be very volatile! The owl’s voice was such a comfort then and still now. High praise for the haiku – thank you Björn
I do love owls. I like the way this one spoke to you!
Spoke volumes!
Wonderful, Laura. Crisp descriptions, lovely haiku and a little tutorial in owl calls. And that sweet innocent guilty feeling.
And wonderful feedback Victoria – specially reassuring to hear the descriptions were not limp! Thank you for this prompt which took a flight of fancy
A rash from strawberries! That would be unpleasant. A very evocative piece, as always, Laura!
Have not been allergic since though Beth – thank you for your lovely comment
The poem is jam packed with richness that appeals to the senses.
And your comment appeals to word play, many thanks Colleen
Gorgeous image…Oh I can remember my strawberry picking days as a child. I ate more than I gathered in the pail.
Gorgeous gorging! A covert owl in strawberry fields – glad you liked the image
Gorgeous descriptions and gosh that haiku is simply stunning! I love owls 🙂 always have .. always will ❤️
thank you Sanaa ❤
Like the adventure and the way the owl’s hoot is one of companionship!
indeed – owl calls break nocturnal solitude