#Haiki rising series#

Covid-19 was not on our radar then, but had it been, this sense would not have been any less powerful. We pondered the crises we face, and how a positive future could be shaped and as a group we agreed that progress now needs to be driven by empathy and inclusivity, where equity is extended not only to all human beings, but also to all the species we share the living planet with. Along the way we shared poetry, and conversations ranged from trees and interwoven ecosystems to wellbeing and climate. In the 2019 haiku, the word HOME nestled just beyond the young birch grove in the Shivelight area, and THE PEACE OF TREES found expression on an old oak, in the Elemental area.ĭuring the weekend we guided walks that threaded through the site, following the haiku.

#Haiki rising series#

It felt like the perfect place to be, and it’s the kind of festival I’d dreamed of: a series of intimate spaces among trees, with something different happening in each one, and the time between events rich with chance meetings, the forming of friendships, and conversations inspired by the stories and opinions shared both on and off stage.

The sound of music drifting from a nearby stage blended with children’s laughter and the song of birds. I remember, on that sunniest of weekends, lying down on soft grass among birch trees, gazing through a ceiling of shifting leaves. We came to Timber in 2018, and became instant fans. The haiku brought poetry and trees together, tapping into the story of the National Forest while offering something to trigger reflection and become one of the many sparks for conversations that this festival kindles. These two words completed a Haiku written for Timber Festival, 2019, placed on seven trees with orange cloth revealing words using the trees’ bark as text. To make a donation to support the next Timber festival, visit JustGiving. Within line of sight, there’s another word: RISING frames the Eyrie stage, where music, dancing and poetry breed lightness of heart, friendships, and deep conversations.

The word HOPE stretches around the rust-red bark of a towering Scot’s pine, writ large over the comings and goings of the families who pass by.