A good – if stressful – weekend at Haiku Aotearoa 2008. My “Introduction to Haibun” workshop seemed to go well. Quite a few people came up to me afterwards saying that it had really fired their enthusiasm, and that they had lots of ideas for new pieces. (If any of you are reading this, I look forward to seeing them!) Details of the whole shindig can be found on my other blog.
On the Sunday morning we had a ginko – no, not the herb. A haiku walk, wandering in the grounds of Canterbury University for an hour and a half, jotting down notes of what we’d seen or heard or felt (or smelled), with the aim of later using those notes to create haiku. I hadn’t expected to be particularly inspired, but I came back with pages of notes. I think everyone there came up with at least one first-draft haiku. And I have an idea for another haibun.
Our ginko took place in the grounds of a lovely old homestead, Ilam House. It just so happens to be where we had our wedding reception. Lots of memories. The ginko took place four months earlier in the year, so the plants are/were different. It was the end of the blossom time then; now we’re in early leaf-change. But the bridge over the Okeover stream looks exactly the same, and the grand sweep of lawn up to the house. The red chair that we all sprawled on, laughing our heads off, isn’t on the verandah any more. Plenty of change. Plenty of same.
It was the morning of the first frost for the year. Not too hard a frost – enough to shrivel but not kill my tomatoes at home. Certainly the grass had all thawed by the time we were walking through there. Somehow there seems to be a symmetry between the first frost and returning to the place where I stood in my big white dress.
Yes, I think there’s a haibun in here. Maybe even using the draft haiku that I produced from the ginko:
- sun in my face –
- the bird I can’t identify
- falls silent …
