Davis Soccer Fields Complex

Our poetry assignment on our fourth day was to write a haibun.  This is a form of poetry that combines a haiku with short prose.  The prose can either come before (traditional) or after, but you must have both elements in this form.

Our assignment was to write a haibun about somewhere we'd walk.  Since this was the day after spending five hours at different soccer games, it was no wonder I chose the soccer fields as my inspiration.

Davis Soccer Fields: A Haibun



The grass is mottled, colors changing from green to yellow to brown and black again.  Small cylindrical plugs of grass layered with rich dirt lay scattered about like forgotten toy soldiers.  The air, all at once, is chaotic yet quiet – a moment of solitude in a sea of cacophony as you cross each grid.

The complex is a place of life… of fun… of youth… of sport.  Colorful white lines of tacky spray paint mark the unforgiving, unrelenting borders you dare not cross lest you yield position to your foe.

Uniforms ready

Feet forward to attack

Black and white missiles fly

Free Write (09Jan09 23:48) - Springtime in Alaska

Spring is also when Mother Nature renews herself, painting the canvas that winter so carefully stripped just months before. Bees buzz happily from one flower to another, collecting nectar for coming larvae; ants studiously move to and fro, beginning to rebuild food stores depleting by the harshness of winter; flowers, trees, and other plants go into full bloom, displaying colourful foliage to warm your heart. Sounds wonderful, beautiful even, doesn't it? Like a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting, almost?

Unfortunately, that vision ends when springtime comes to Interior Alaska. Spring here is a very ugly, dirty time of year. Now, before you can turn on me, oh Constant Reader, and tell me that there is beauty in everything surrounding you, let me describe a typical Interior Alaskan spring day for you, shall I?

The weather is unlike any you have ever experienced. It can be well below zero one moment (yesterday morning at about 4 a.m., it was -10F) and well above zero the next (the high temperature yesterday was a scorching +41F and it's about +31F out there right now). The sky can be clear and beautiful, allowing you to bask in the sun - not a cloud in sight to obscure your view. Then, in a few hours' time, a chilled wind can blow in a snow storm of blizzard proportions, blanketing everything in a gentle white misery once again.

When the temperatures do rise and the sun is beating down upon the ground, a winter's worth of snow and ice melt, running into the dusty, dirty street. The daily melt freezes over night, leaving a skating rink on the ground - ice several inches thick and dangerously slippery.

And what does that melting snow reveal while it's melting? You get to see a season's worth of neglect by the supposedly caring citizens of Fairbanks. Gravel and residual sand and ice from the Dept. of Transportation trying to improve the intersections pools together on the street corners, causing other slippery hazards. Trash and debris casually, thoughtlessly dropped over the course of the long winter months' reappears, bringing with it the depressing reality that these caring citizens do not care as much as they claim.

Once the snow melts and the ground reappears, you are left with a large, borough-wide marsh. Mud and bog are the prevalent landscape, trapping you with cold, insidious fingers that grab onto your shoes or boots and hold you fast until you either abandon your footwear or dig your way out.

Springtime in Alaska - definitely not what your creative writing teacher ever discussed when he/she talked of the beauties of Springtime, eh?

College Coffee House

I ran across the most perfect little place. It's called The College Coffee House - just this little place down the hill from the university. (When I say little, it says "Maximum Occupancy 80".) But it's this warm, open, inviting little place.

For the most part, the tables located within the coffee house are made just for two - just right for enjoying a cup of coffee after a date or maybe even while on a date, listening to whomever happens to be playing at the time. There are a few larger tables, where a study group from up on the hill could congregate and accomplish their study goals.

There are four computers with internet access (the first fifteen minutes are free when you pay for your drink; then it's just two dollars for fifteen minute increments after that. Not bad for a little cafe.) Two of the computers are out in the main cafe - two are located in this darker back room that also has a couple couches where you could get together with some friends and talk uninterrupted.

The decor is simple - actual burlap bags that have been used in Columbia and Costa Rica to collect coffee beans and some South American art. In the far left corner, away from the door, is a small stage with microphones and an amplifier - just right for a small music ensemble or a solo artist to perform... or even a poetry reading or two. The walls behind the stage are decorated with posters of jazz legends and photographs of people who have actually performed at the coffee house.

They make a really damned good espresso (I had two) and offer a variety of coffees. In addition, they have a wide selection of teas, smoothies, and specialty drinks for those not overly fond of coffee. Along side the drinks, they offer some small lunch or dinner items and some snacks/desserts.

Looking around, you see all types of people milling about - college students workin on an assignment; friends getting together to catch up on what's been happening in each other's lives; a couple on a first date, anxiously leaning in over the table to talk; a couple who have been together awhile, relaxing on a couch and talking like the old friends they are; people seeking a respite from a day of shopping; even a family taking time out of their busy schedules to really just catch up with one another.

You wouldn't think a town like Fairbanks - and let's face it! Fairbanks is still small enough that it can't really be called a city! - would have a place like this tucked into some back corner in a little strip mall. Fairbanks with its gruff old sourdoughs with that shock of white hair and the ZZ Top beards; young, naive cheechakos in their sneakers and leather jackets, braving the elements at forty below; old fashioned gentlemen who will still offer their seat to a lady; young, brash punks who would rather stare you down than even offer something akin to kindness; military members and their spouses, in a state of aftershock due to the change in environment; old timers who would rather die than ever move back to a big city. Not this place - no way.

But, then again, why not? Fairbanks is slowly growing - the military with its Army post and Air Force base are seeing to that. So is Wal-mart for that matter. Fairbanks is a true melting pot, a real representative of America at its best. You can see tourists mingling with residents at any time of year. A college student is not afraid to ask a local for directions their first time out and about in town. It has that comfortable hometown feeling while being removed from the rat race that so often consumes a small town.

So, why not Fairbanks? Why not indeed...