Create with Nature
Nature therapy
It’s been a difficult week. Navigating chronic illness, let alone a flare-up is hard on my mental health and I’ve really felt it this week. While I drafted this on Saturday, yesterday was mostly spent asleep or tucked up on the sofa, hence the delay in publishing. But, through it all, while it is not a cure, nature has been one of my main balms. I’ve forced myself out every day, even if just into the garden and it’s always helped. So, excuse any errors and lack of eloquence please this week, my brain is not even at its usual power, let alone full power.
Onwards.
Noticing
In brief; pools of colour amongst the grey, a never still, never quiet garden of fliting, twittering, chirping birds and more and more green shoots pushing up through the leaf litter promising flowers to come. Finding beauty and calm by the sea even on a grey drizzly day.
While there have been some much rejoiced windows of sun, this week, certainly in my corner of the UK, has mostly been grey. Grey, sometimes with added mist. Days when it seems the sun is having no effect on both the sky and my brain. Not necessarily sadness but quiet, it sits like a damp duvet at times even muting the birds. It wraps around the trees and brings the sky down to meet the earth.
But, in the orchard, I realised there was a green tint to the gloom and like the faint beginnings of a sunrise, it reminded me that better times are coming, that spring is coming. I didn’t think there would be much change in the orchard, but if you look, everywhere buds are getting fuller, leaves are bursting from bare branches. From last week’s three blossoms, there were now whole branches shining out, spring’s tree decorations.
And of course, more tiny wonders, I think here I’m going for the world record for the number of female hazel flowers in one photo. I promise I will stop talking about them soon, but I’m glad I have because after me going on about them, my friend finally spotted them this week. Everyone needs to share this joy and they won’t be around for much longer.
I also I explored some new to me paths this weekend. The village my parents live in is surrounded by them. I found both archeological and natural treasures. An old sand quarry is now a wood where the old workings are now draped in leaf litter, with the promise of bluebells pushing through and a sea of snwodrops in the meantime.
Creating
I have to be in the right frame of mind to create, so my grey mood has not been conducive to painting. But, on one brighter day, a big surprise came out of some experimenting. Playing in my sketchbook, with different colours, tools and processes is a big part of how I end up with final paintings. I also have to eat my previous words about not doing landscapes! While splashing ink around, an idea using a view I’d snapped at the nature reserve popped into my mind and then onto the page. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Sussex, a line of trees against the rolling folds of the downs. but what I then painted helped me resolve how to place the trees, they did need more of a background, to sit in their landscape. It’s also shown me a way to continue the tree theme now that the trees are becoming clothed again. If this sounds like art and creativity have a life of their own, external to my hands, well I guess they do. The nature of the inks, the way I play with them, all means I am not fully in control so results can be unexpected. It also means I can’t always recreate them, but I’m working on that!
I also didn’t feel much like doing any sketching, or at least that’s what I thought. A couple of times I’ve gone out for walks, not intending on drawing, just noticing, but thankfully I’ve had my sketchbook as something has demanded to be drawn. A handy bench gave a perch to capture the details of a lichen covered twig. A broken paving slab let me a draw an expansive view of the downs framed through tree lined lane. A few minutes of drinking in my surroundings which I wouldn’t have taken if it wasn’t for stopping to sketch them.
Reading
So, I still haven’t been reading much in terms of books,. In fact, it’s mainly been rereading and relistening to much-loved nature books that calm and comfort me. So I’ve been reading Simon Barne’s Bird watching with your eyes closed and listening to Monty Don’s My Garden World.
I did manage a few pages of ‘Life between the tides’ (Adam Nicolson) though and one paragraph resonated so much, just maybe not in the way he might have intended. He wrote of a line from Gaelic love song/proverb
“Cha tàinig tràigh, gun muir-làn na dèidh”
“ a low tide never came that wasn’t followed by a high tide” (pg.8)
Sitting there reading that trying to push away an undercurrent of anxiety, it reminded me that this too will pass, calm times will come. A watery version of this too will pass. And it was probably also telling me I should get some blue space, it’s all been very green lately. And so, I did. A dose of lapping waves and my seabird friends … and breathe.
I hope the splashs of sun contines this week, both for my corner of the south coast and whereever you are. Wishing you noticing walks and splashes of colour.
Please do share this, I want to spread the joy that nature and creating brings. I have had some inklings of ideas of some online nature creative gatherings so once my brain less resembles scrambled eggs, I’ll think it through.
Beautiful reflections ... hugs from us for all the down days of chronic illness. Hoping Spring lifts the spirits. PS ... your orchard looks like a gorgeous space.