The cold weather set in and coronavirus cases surged in my area this month. So I pretty much stuck close to home.
But hyper-local nature observation brings its own rewards, whether it be seeing the same individual coyotes during consecutive visits to the nearby cemetery, or just being surprised by a white nuthatch popping up on the Norway maple tree as I sit on my windowsill drawing chickadees and house sparrows.
Nature journaling sets one up to receive such surprises.
While sketching a flock of Canada geese at a nearby harbor, I noticed that one of the birds had a swollen chest. I wouldn’t have noticed this if I just looked at the flock as a single unit and moved on. By sitting on the ground, and observing each individual bird through the act of drawing, I noticed something was very different about this bird (googling it later, I think this goose had a ruptured air sac).
In many ways, nature journaling is so much more than what ends up on the page.
It’s been a way to get out of my own head and has helped calm my anxiety amidst the uncertainty of the national election and the dread of going into a COVID winter. It’s kept me connected to something much greater than myself during a period of stricter isolation. And it’s just a pleasure that any of us can draw upon, wherever we may be, at any time.
