Thank you for introducing me to Tony and the word ha-ha! Your poem takes us on a walk with this distinguished English couple. How did you know she studies John Constable? I was thinking their chairs do not match their outfits… hahaha but a picnic is a holy ritual and I love tge way you’ve portrayed it in this poem!
Yes, the chairs, of course. I tried to fit them in, but somehow couldn’t. As for Constable, that was a liberty, my own narrative layer. Thanks for reading and sharing, Pilgrim!
We live on a ranch in Montana, and while reading "haha" (which in other contexts, I use possibly too much in texts and emails to dampen the seriousness of what I am attempting to express), I was imagining how we might have such a picnic on our land, surrounded by a few horses, with mountains in the background, in a field covered with sage. Which book would I be reading, which wine drinking, and with which of my husbands would I be sharing this picnic? I am so happy I stumbled onto your Substack just now. It sailed
Caught by the image, the incongruity of the setting v. the human subjects. The pungent scent of a well used pasture following…. But underscoring it all the short life of a young man with a great ‘eye’. Our loss.
Those are all yearlings for sure and there might be a running trough running through it all, two things that would give the couple some peace. Very fun, thanks
An ironic connection, Ray-Jones' photo was the same year of The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society; Ray Davies lyrics play very much with the ideas of memory and capturing those memories through photography or trying to hold onto them in a rapidly changing time. It's really a fantastic album.
I'd also read about the ha-ha but forgotten about it until reading your piece, man of aran. Thanks for the reminder! Ha, and another ha to you, sir!
It’s only by chance that I happened to have read about ha-has in recent years; my work (for a textbook company) often allows me time to do general research and reading to find interesting topics to write about. the ha-ha just happened to be one of them. I had entirely forgotten about them until I read your piece. Cheers, man of aran! See you around the ‘stacks!
Nice! and yes , the artifice of hidden segregation and a way to keep the wild vermin (deer) from ruining the garden. Tempting to consider this theme in the context of elements of American enslavement culture. Thanks💪👍
That was delightful.
Thanks so much, K!
Thank you Alan!
I really enjoyed it.
Have a nice day.
Luca 😊
I definitely will, Luca! You as well. And thank you for sharing my poem. Glad you enjoyed.
A-ha. The curtain rises. Fourth wall broken.
Scene photo-canvas lifts my eyes to hear aria’s low
Baritone breeze to love the British centimeter accent that pleases my heart.
Thank you for introducing me to Tony and the word ha-ha! Your poem takes us on a walk with this distinguished English couple. How did you know she studies John Constable? I was thinking their chairs do not match their outfits… hahaha but a picnic is a holy ritual and I love tge way you’ve portrayed it in this poem!
Yes, the chairs, of course. I tried to fit them in, but somehow couldn’t. As for Constable, that was a liberty, my own narrative layer. Thanks for reading and sharing, Pilgrim!
It’s impossible to fit it all in. You did a great job here. Thanks again!
This is clever, Man. I enjoyed your humor.
Thank you CJ. So glad it worked for you.
I like the subtle image of how the black and white behind the man and the all black behind the woman add to the total effect.
Interesting observation, Malcolm!
My primary school had a ha-ha at the end of the playing field. You can imagine the kind of things it did for a child's imagination.
Ah yes, the effect of the ‘hidden’. Thanks for reading, Jack!
My eye grazes magnetically over this bofine poem! Biscuit soporific - don't be surprised if I lift it!
Ha ha, go for it!
Thanks Alan! Just did
We live on a ranch in Montana, and while reading "haha" (which in other contexts, I use possibly too much in texts and emails to dampen the seriousness of what I am attempting to express), I was imagining how we might have such a picnic on our land, surrounded by a few horses, with mountains in the background, in a field covered with sage. Which book would I be reading, which wine drinking, and with which of my husbands would I be sharing this picnic? I am so happy I stumbled onto your Substack just now. It sailed
me to other worlds.
Thanks, Nan, and welcome! Montana is spectacular, took a brief jaunt through it once.
Caught by the image, the incongruity of the setting v. the human subjects. The pungent scent of a well used pasture following…. But underscoring it all the short life of a young man with a great ‘eye’. Our loss.
Yes, very true. Thank you for your thoughts, Patris.
Those are all yearlings for sure and there might be a running trough running through it all, two things that would give the couple some peace. Very fun, thanks
Thanks, Wes! You can indeed see it if you look closely. I only learned the term from an online description of the photo.
An ironic connection, Ray-Jones' photo was the same year of The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society; Ray Davies lyrics play very much with the ideas of memory and capturing those memories through photography or trying to hold onto them in a rapidly changing time. It's really a fantastic album.
I'd also read about the ha-ha but forgotten about it until reading your piece, man of aran. Thanks for the reminder! Ha, and another ha to you, sir!
Ah, the Kinks, great band, I’ll have to give that one a listen. I’m impressed that you knew what a ha-ha is! Thanks for coming by, Brent.
It’s only by chance that I happened to have read about ha-has in recent years; my work (for a textbook company) often allows me time to do general research and reading to find interesting topics to write about. the ha-ha just happened to be one of them. I had entirely forgotten about them until I read your piece. Cheers, man of aran! See you around the ‘stacks!
Definitely!
Nice! and yes , the artifice of hidden segregation and a way to keep the wild vermin (deer) from ruining the garden. Tempting to consider this theme in the context of elements of American enslavement culture. Thanks💪👍