NE63 Haiku

A New Season Awaits Where is the time going? The autumn equinox occurred on 23 September 2026 here in the UK, marking the beginning of autumn and the end of the “nice” British weather. To be fair, we have had an unusually good summer, with plenty of sunshine and very little rain. The lack of rain can be a concern, though, as it means hosepipe bans, lower reservoirs and reduced crops. Luckily, where I live, that's not too much of a concern. Got to love the North East weather! With autumn coming, it means darker mornings and evenings, which can put people in a downward mood. Myself included. Though there are things to enjoy about the new season. The changing colours of the leaves, with their hues of warm colours; the cosy nights in with loved ones; Harvest Festival; Halloween; kicking and walking on fresh, crispy fallen leaves. There's so much to enjoy about these darker couple of seasons. But how did we get here so soon? It only seems like yesterday I was taking Cooper out for h...

Night moves by slowly   Artificial lights hum softly   Solvents tickle nostrils Night shift has its own atmosphere. Time stretches differently under artificial light. The outside world sleeps, but inside the lab everything continues — machines humming, screens glowing, samples waiting. I felt flat tonight. Not dramatically low, just dulled around the edges. The tail end of a cold still clinging on, sleep not quite enough, energy never fully returning. The kind of tiredness that isn’t urgent but lingers quietly. The fluorescent lights hum without change. The smell of solvents hangs in the air, sharp enough to remind you that you’re awake, even if you don’t quite feel it. There’s something strange about working through the night while your body insists it should be somewhere else. This haiku came from that steady, muted space. Not a bad night. Not a good one. Just slow, measured hours under artificial light.

Views foggy, sky grey   Air chilled, heavy on the chest   Someone shares my words The day felt muted from the start. Fog hung low, the sky a flat grey that dulled everything it touched. One of those days where the air feels heavy, pressing in a little, mirroring the mood rather than lifting it. Nothing dramatic — just that slow, familiar winter greyness that seeps into the bones. Then, unexpectedly, a small interruption. A notification appeared to say that a stranger had shared one of my haiku on Instagram. No message, no explanation — just the simple act of passing it on to their own followers. It caught me off guard in the best way. In a day that felt closed in and colourless, it was a quiet reminder that these words don’t just sit here on the page. They travel. They land somewhere else. I didn’t feel elated or suddenly energised — just gently lifted. Enough to notice the moment, enough to write this haiku. Sometimes that’s all it takes: a small human connection cu...

Black skies overhead Peaceful dreams, restless nightmares A winter cold holds Working nights has a way of blurring edges. Sleep comes in fragments, dreams don’t always agree on what they want to be. This week, a winter cold settled in too — the kind that doesn’t knock you flat, just lingers. Heavy head, restless body, warmth that never quite reaches where it’s needed. Lying there, listening to the dark, aware of the sky pressing down. Some nights are peaceful. Some aren’t. Most are a mixture of both. This haiku came out of that space — between rest and unrest, between waking and dreaming — held in place by the season.

First try.... Wish me luck Cold winter morning Birrds still sleep in bare branches How I long for home