The haibun (Yellow Bird) is beautiful. Good to see she's not constrained by the spurious 5-7-5 syllable thing — a friend and writer of wonderful haiku once summed it up perfectly: "Focusing on the structure of haiku is like concentrating on the cage surrounding the singing bird."
It's also particularly pertinent for me: I lost a friend and colleague last week and spent the week wading and walking up the Pohangina river surveying for whio (blue ducks). Birds and loss; joy and grief. Partway through the trip I jotted down how two things seem utterly incomprehensible to me: Being born, and dying. So, thanks for the link, Brenda — it couldn't have come at a better time.
I checked out the blue duck. What a fascinating bird. Living a life on fast moving water. I wonder how the river sounds to that which lives on it? Since whio live with its swiftness, the music of it, I suspect they can hear so much more than we can imagine. I guess I yearn to hear more. More and differently.
Thanks Brenda. It was good to catch up with friends at the end of the week, and reminisce.
Whio are among my favourite birds. Whenever I see them in the mountains, it feels as if I'm meeting friends. And rivers... they're always saying something new; always worth listening to.
It's true what you say about rivers. And every river I've encountered seems to have its own voice. I've talked about doing audio recordings of rivers in this region at familiar points and then seeing if people could identify them by their sound.
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The haibun (Yellow Bird) is beautiful. Good to see she's not constrained by the spurious 5-7-5 syllable thing — a friend and writer of wonderful haiku once summed it up perfectly: "Focusing on the structure of haiku is like concentrating on the cage surrounding the singing bird."
It's also particularly pertinent for me: I lost a friend and colleague last week and spent the week wading and walking up the Pohangina river surveying for whio (blue ducks). Birds and loss; joy and grief. Partway through the trip I jotted down how two things seem utterly incomprehensible to me: Being born, and dying. So, thanks for the link, Brenda — it couldn't have come at a better time.
Sorry to hear of your loss, Pete.
I checked out the blue duck. What a fascinating bird. Living a life on fast moving water. I wonder how the river sounds to that which lives on it? Since whio live with its swiftness, the music of it, I suspect they can hear so much more than we can imagine. I guess I yearn to hear more. More and differently.
Thanks Brenda. It was good to catch up with friends at the end of the week, and reminisce.
Whio are among my favourite birds. Whenever I see them in the mountains, it feels as if I'm meeting friends. And rivers... they're always saying something new; always worth listening to.
It's true what you say about rivers. And every river I've encountered seems to have its own voice. I've talked about doing audio recordings of rivers in this region at familiar points and then seeing if people could identify them by their sound.
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