Why is the moon an autumn kigo since it is up in the sky all year long?
(excerpt from an exchange on WHCworldkigo, July 21, 2008)
Welcome to our latest gallery featuring haiku and photographs by Ron Moss, photo haiga by Susan and Dave Constable, and haiga renga by Alexis Rotella and Denis Garrison.
Not long ago, I opened my mailbox to find the above question prefacing an informative exchange about kigo and the moon across the seasons. One thing led to another, as it often does when I am preparing themes for Haigaonline. The moon bridge featured in one of Alexis' and Denis' haiga has given its name to the gallery.
As I was working on our latest gallery exhibition, the February moon hung over my house. In Kyoto it would have been a spring moon, veiled in haze. Here in the US, the Native American names for the full moon are often used as regional kigo. February's was the snow moon, hunger moon, or opening buds moon. Here in coastal California, plums are blooming while much of the rest of North America is still in the grip of winter, reflecting that the March moon is named for sugar maples and worms. Yet for Ron, in Tasmania, it's the traditional autumn moon in all its haiku fullness. The lesson is that wherever we are, whatever season, the moon is there and always has been, for as long as we humans have been dreaming this world into being. How fitting, then, that one of Alexis' and Denis' haiga included a moon bridge! If you have not seen one of these structures in a Chinese or Japanese garden, they are highly arched pedestrian bridges, typically placed over still water where span and reflection combine to form an image of the full moon. Think of our gallery as a moon bridge that spans the continents and hemispheres—and watch for moon haiga in each of these portfolios.