Out of the Woods
- Katherine Giles
- May 12
- 3 min read
Reflections from my first ICF conference
At the end of April 2025, I stepped into the grand, storied surroundings of Edinburgh for the Institute of Chartered Foresters’ Centenary conference — my first ICF event. Not a forester by job description (yet), but deeply immersed in this world through my work at Evolving Forests, I was welcomed with open arms.

The room felt like stepping into heritage. A crowd largely composed of older, check-shirted men (with surprisingly little tweed — a small personal disappointment) filled much of the space. These are the people who have upheld the pillars of our industry for decades. But change is rustling through the canopy. There were more women than I anticipated. Still, I couldn't help but feel an absence — where were the under-30s? The other industries? The missing voices forestry urgently needs if it hopes to step beyond its familiar echo chamber?
Familiar faces, fresh conversations
There is a comfort in gathering with our sector. We laughed with old friends and colleagues, made new connections, and finally matched long-known names to real-life faces. The atmosphere buzzed with commitment and care — a shared passion for woodlands, stewardship, and a better future.
But underneath that warmth, there’s also hesitation. A humility so ingrained it threatens our visibility. We are a sector brimming with energy and purpose, yet we often struggle to tell our own story.
The case for telling our story
Rob Penn, closing the conference with a rousing call to action, said what many of us needed to hear: be less self-effacing. Tell your story. If we don’t, who will?
The truth is, many in our world are already stretched. Full days spent in forests, in meetings, on the road, in spreadsheets. Crafting a compelling narrative or pitching to a journalist isn't on most people’s to-do list — and understandably so.
People have day jobs — real, practical, full days in forests and meetings and spreadsheets. Not everyone has time to craft a compelling narrative or pitch to an environmental correspondent. That’s where I see the role of Evolving Forests so clearly. Our role isn’t just to create films or podcasts. It’s to be a conduit. We can tell your stories with you — and for you. We’re good at it. We can sit down, extract the human truth with a smile, and shape it into something the public can connect with. Because the public and wider industry needs to connect with forestry. Desperately. And forestry needs to reconnect with the world beyond its borders.

Breaking the circle
We must speak to those outside our circle. The ones who weren’t at the Edinburgh conference. Young people. Artists. Urban designers. Farmers. Engineers. Decision-makers and change-makers who are shaping the world we’ll all live in — often without realising how integral trees and timber are to that future.
We’re looking forward. But as I listened to some of the words spoken at the conference, I was struck by how often we also looked back — to the ‘woodsmen’, to legacy and lineage. There’s value in our history, yes. But we need to speak in the language of now — and next. Forestry needs to move from quiet reverence into bold relevance.
Finding our voice together
So here I am. An meandering addition to the world of forestry and timber, passionately entangled with the role forestry plays in our lives. A first-time ICF attendee not normally on the guest list, but who showed up and was welcomed. I left with more questions than answers, but with firmer resolve than ever.
At Evolving Forests, we see the opportunity. To be the bridge between our industry and the wider world. Between those who know the forest inside out, and those who don’t yet understand how much it matters. Because the future is coming fast. Let’s make sure it not only hears us — but truly sees us.
Katherine
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