Haibun – in the tradition of a poetic diary

A year ago I was visiting the ancient village sites of Haida Gwaii. Struck speechless at times, I found the trip best expressed in the short Japanese forms of haiku and haibun, like the piece that follows here. (The Haida considered the intertidal zone, a riot of algae and marine invertebrates, to be their feast table.)

Gwaii Haanas National Park, British Columbia


Roads were only considered worth building to extract resources – lumber – copper.  Forest have reclaimed the roads, slashes of a brighter green.  

There is nothing flat enough on which to land a plane but the sea, and it’s rarely flat.

We board a sailboat, submit to the wind.  We cruise the lofty islands, letting the wind do the work, the fat-bellied and booming sails do the work.  The boat yaws, swings a bit and then dips, eliciting sharp curses from the knife-wielding chef in the galley. 


low tide at Tanu
table laid out with dinner
ravens call