Haibun: A Voice from the Unseen

Findhorn Bay at low tide with canoes and rowing boats resting on shingle

This place speaks of other times, a voice from the unseen. Long before fishermen’s cottages turned into holiday homes. It is still the same river that flows to sea past scattered stones, the sound of shingle. The people change, the houses change. The bay sleeps where it always has, between sheets of silt and honey-coloured grass.

ancient chant
an oystercatcher piping
above the waves

Β© Xenia Tran

black whippet in black harness smiling and looking over his right shoulder among golden bent grass
two whippets walking through golden bent grass towards the shingle

With love from Eivor, Pearl and Xenia xxx

Photographs by Xenia Tran, edited in lr.

Settings: f/4.5, 1/1000 s, ISO 100, f/3.5, 1/1250 s, ISO 100 and f/3.5, 1/2000 s, ISO 100.

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A newer version of this poem features in Between Heather and Grass. If you haven’t read the book yet, feel free to take a peek inside:

look inside feature for Between Heather and Grass
Look inside …

Author: whippetwisdom

The stories, poems and photographs on this blog are the original creative work of Xenia Tran. Inspired by life in the Scottish Highlands and in awe of nature she gives voice to the wisdom of her adopted and fostered whippets.

67 thoughts on “Haibun: A Voice from the Unseen”

  1. I do not know how you do this, Xenia. You write lovely poetry and post beautiful photos every day! Your consistency is inspiring. Love this one. If I ever get to Scotland I am going to look you up and hopefully go for a walk with you and Eivor and Pearl.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words LuAnne πŸ’œ Eivor and Pearl have taught me to see each place with new eyes every time we visit – it is so inspiring to see the world this way and the blog helps me to write everything down and record it through the photographs. If you ever come to Scotland it would be lovely if you can join us for a walk πŸ™‚πŸΎπŸ’–πŸΎ xxx

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I know what you mean. My cats (and earlier my daughters) did the same – teaching me to see through different (and less jaded) eyes. I will certainly take you up on a walk in your lovely environment. You are welcome to visit Michigan any time you are in the neighborhood. It has its own charm. Consider it an invitation.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh this is beyond beautiful. The way you have depicted the changes of time and, some things remaining the same: the sounds of the water bumping the shingles, the grass, the sounds of the oyster catchers. And Eivor and Pearl – as always they add their own version of beauty to the story. Thank you Xenia for this and the wonderful haiku.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love how you bring depth perspective to the places we see and live. I am going back this weekend to my birthplace with my two brothers. It will be interesting to see the river there that was there long before any of us set foot on its shores. Thank you for this piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I love how you’ve captured the history of the Scottish coastline, Xenia, and given it a voice in the river and the shingle. It’s a relief to recognise that although people and house change, ‘the bay sleeps where it always has, between sheets of silt and honey-coloured grass’. The colours in your haibun sine through in the fabulous photographs, and I can hear the oystercatcher! πŸ™‚ xxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words Kim. It is lovely that the fishermen’s cottages are part of a conservation area and part of the South side of the Bay is a nature reserve – both deepen the sense of timelessness when we walk here πŸ™‚πŸ’– xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I read your piece at a time when I reminisce about the place I grew up in. I heard about the latest developments in the place I once call home. Somehow, the old village has become a bustling little town but I am saddened by the loss of the idyllic village I remember so well.

    Liked by 1 person

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