"Weather-Beaten Bones"

No inspiration for a haiku despite this brilliant fall morning, but I've been reading Basho's Travelogue of Weather-Beaten Bones (translated by Sam Hamill.) Love the title and sense of hope, and yes, even adventure, that it implies. Yep, in spite of aches and decidedly unlimber bones, I'm going to set out on a long arduous journey.

Here's how it begins, "I left my rundown hut beside the river during the eighth month of 1684, placing my trust in my walking stick and in the words of the Chinese sage who said, 'I pack no provisions for my long journey--entering emptiness under the midnight moon. The voice of the wind was oddly cold.'"

"Entering emptiness under the midnight moon" -- lovely phrase. Isn't that how all journeys start?--maybe not with the moon, but with not knowing what is ahead, what the journey will bring. What changes the journey will cause? And how memories will soon fill the journey/journal pages.

Here's a few travel quotes I came across recently.

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” – Henry Miller

″A traveler without observation is a bird without wings.” – Moslih Eddin Saadi

“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.” – Freya Stark

I find Miller's particularly apt because the best journeys always evoke changes in your world-view.

Basho sounds so old and frail here so out of curiosity I had to do the life-math. He was born in 1644, so when he wrote these words he was an old man of 40!! (emphasis indeed added.)

Here's one haiku from this journey that I particularly like:

along the roadside,
blossoming wild roses
in my horse's mouth