Sketching trees

A collage of the month’s urban tree sketches

In this sketch you can see some of the line of lime trees that were cut down before protests successfully resulted in s suspension of felling.

I’ve been sketching trees as part of my daily sketches and as an urban sketcher for the last ten years. They are often part of a scene in local parks or in street scenes. I’m lucky enough to live in a town with lots of parks, pocket parks and green spaces. As well as this there’s a town organisation dedicated to protecting and developing street trees.

In the spring of this year, suddenly, I began to look more intensely at trees that were actually or potentially under threat. Over a matter of days a group of historic and loved local trees were threatened by development and some cut down before protests temporarily halted the work, many trees in the centre of Plymouth were chopped down overnight and a significant tree in a London street was also lost to development.

In this sketch a very well-established local street tree sits in the pavement very close to a main road.

This led me to make trees the focus of my daily sketching from 1st March 2023. Each day I sketched one or more trees mainly around Northampton and Wellingborough. I began to feel that many trees are in vulnerable positions in the streets, in the gardens and in the grounds of public organisations or private gardens. It makes me wonder who is looking after these trees and question if we, the public, need to be paying more attention to the trees around us. One of the ways I pay attention myself and draw the attention of others is to sketch and share my sketches on social media.

In this sketch you can see my trusty Blackwing Matte pencil, my Faber Castell Polychromos red pencil and my small pencil sharpener. These along with a small sketchbook were my sketching kit for the month.

Each sketch was made outside from direct observation often standing up or occasionally through a window or from my car. I used a red and  a Blackwing graphite pencil for these daily sketches and I worked into an A6 or A5 hardback sketchbook.

In this sketch the trees are on a roundabout surrounded by cars and traffic lights.

As I sketched over the month I varied the use of the red pencil sometimes using red for the tree in the scene and at other times using red for  the context around the tree. Although I’m not now sketching urban trees daily this is still part of my sketching routine and when a tree in public catches my attention I make a mental note to sketch it.

As I sketched the vulnerability of the tree sometimes became more apparent to me - surrounded by paving stones, tarmac, street furniture and other human intrusions.

Several of the sketches have been bought for donations to Save Our Street Trees, Northampton and one was donated to an auction to raise funds for the legal action to save the Wellingborough Walks trees.

In this sketch you can see one of the avenues of limes in Wellingborough that were and still are under threat. I repeated this sketch later in the month and donated it to be auctioned for the campaign to save the trees.

About Jean

Blog: https://jeanadrawingaday.com/

Instagram: @70jeanne

Twitter: @JeanEd70

Short biography:

I am an urban sketcher, printmaker and collage artist living in Northampton, UK. I have maintained a daily drawing habit since 4th August, 2012 and these are posted on my blog. I often sketch the environment around me and I’m drawn to trees especially in the winter. I’m also a former primary school teacher and an art educator supporting people who teach art in schools.

Blog: https://jeanadrawingaday.com/

Instagram: @70jeanne

Twitter: @JeanEd70

Nature Journal - Day 127 (7th May)

Did you know we are just over one third of the way through 2023? I know that as I decided to do a nature journal page every day throughout 2023.

My day job is a teacher of complex needs - I’m an Outdoor Learning specialist and then I also run a social enterprise - specialising in using nature to reconnect people to themselves and others. Up until last week - I have been working six days a week, plus schoolwork in the evenings and weekends. I am fortunate, I know, that a good chunk of that time I am outdoors. 

I work with a lot of people - children and adults alike - helping them with their self-esteem, confidence and mental health - through nature. I don’t mean to be selfish, but the nature journaling is for me - it’s my time. My time to reconnect and recharge, it’s for my mindfulness and creativity. 

A bit about me.

When I was a kid, we lived a couple of hours away from The Lake District. From a very young age I have had a connection with nature. Later on, as a teen I became interested in photography and got into landscape photography - this led me on to my first career in photography - moving to London at 18. To cut a long story short I’ve ended up living in Scotland and using the Forest Schools model though my day job and social enterprise. I’ve dabbled in landscape photography, reduction linocut, eco-print and now watercolour. I have done a bit of nature journaling during lockdown and followed the work of John Muir Laws. I don’t consider myself to be an artist, I just love being out in nature, it’s been my friend and teacher – it’s where I find peace and joy.

My nature journaling.

I have set myself a few rules. I generally need to find something that day. I don’t like using a picture from a previous day as somehow the emotional connection starts to get lost, and I cannot paint it as well. I don’t have an agenda when I go out for a walk/trip. I’m totally open to whatever nature wants to show me – I then try to capture it on my phone - then at home on paper.  After a day or two, the magic of that moment has passed, I’ll not remember the sensory experience of that moment. I may take a video as I find the noise of the wind, bird song, buzzing of a bee helps me refocus on that moment. I take a lot of photos of the ‘thing’ so I’m satisfied that I have enough to adequately capture the form, shadow, colour and light balance when back home. 

Equipment wise, I tend to use four brushes, two thicker ones for blocking in backgrounds and then a smallish one for more detailed work/creating shadows, and a fine one for lines, edges etc. Paints wise, I started off from a set my partner bought me from Lidl’s. I am slowly replacing these with Winsor & Newton as I go on. I’ll need to replace some yellows soon as I use this with the sap green to get the greens for landscapes. I need to get a non-photo blue pencil, currently I am just using a normal HB pencil, which would show up if I copied my work. I use a Chengzi folding plastic watercolour palette and Moleskine Watercolour notebooks, both A5 and A4. Books wise I collected quite a few over the years, my favourites, and those I dip into daily, are ‘The Almanac’ and ‘The Foragers Calendar’.

I don’t always draw exactly what was in the photo- I may leave details out either to make it easier to draw the ‘thing’ or to simplify the shot. Like plants - I tend to zoom in - I find the detail and beauty is shown when one looks really closely. 

Sometimes the picture/drawing/art - works, I get the colours and shading bang on. Sometimes it doesn’t work, whether I was tired, not as focused, stressed about work, - but that just doesn’t matter. The point is - I’ve captured a memory of that moment, that place, that thing. Nobody else saw what I saw, what I felt, smelt, touched or tasted.

In that moment - that was my experience, my connection to nature. For me nature journaling is very personal – yes, the whole world sees it on Facebook, and I hope people get inspiration from the daily drawings/paintings – but ultimately, it’s about me and me becoming close to nature. Since doing this daily, I have become massively more in tune with the changing seasons. The gradual change from winter to spring, noticing the detail; changes in daylight, the joy of seeing colour, hearing increasing bird song, trees showing their buds. Before I would have walked past, not noticed, but by doing a daily nature journal, I have noticed, I am much more in tune. I feel the sense of community in the wildlife and nature – not just a human passing by, but a much deeper connection to individual trees, landscapes, plants, birds, insects, skies etc. etc.

I live in the Scottish Borders. It’s a beautiful part of the world. This afternoon I went for a run/trot/walk on one of my favourite routes.

I love the Beech trees, especially how they shimmer in the sunshine. Silvery hands holding across a sea blue sky – connecting, reaching, stretching.

Future Blogs

I am aiming to write about the ‘thing’ that I have seen that day (as I journey through May/June) – the story/emotional connection as to why I chose it – or more to the point, why it chose me. Where I was and what I was doing at the time. How I’ve gone about drawing/painting. Difficulties I experienced when drawing/painting, what I feel about it. etc. Words and phrases that come to mind describing the sensory experience, what nature was saying to me at the time.

About Pete

Pete posts daily on the following Facebook pages:

International Nature Journaling Week

The Nature Journal Club

UK Nature Journaling

The Nova Nature Journal Club.

He also has his own Facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/PCarthyNatureInspired /

Pete says ‘Come and say hi, it’s great to chat to fellow nature journalers’.

A Closer Look • A Deeper Listen - Finding the Nature that is Right There

The cheeping couldn’t be ignored. What kind of juvenile songbird was it? Precisely from where was it coming? The questions jumped from my awareness and into my curiosity. I had to go look.

A few years before, I never would have heard the cheeping. I certainly wouldn’t have been walking around this abandoned parking lot looking for it.

Finding Nature Right Where You Are

There are times in our lives when we don’t notice nature unless we happen to be right in the middle of some place new and beautiful. Whether we are preoccupied with work or worries, are hurried or harried, or have placed our surroundings into the subconscious categories of “boring” or “normal,” we fail to see the richness in nature that goes on all the time. Our desire to see nature can be lost behind a shroud of dulled perspective.

What I have found from my daily nature photo walks that began eight years ago, though, is that when we place ourselves in a mindset to look and see, suddenly the whole world opens up with its intricacies and cycles. Things that were never evident before can’t be ignored. Curiosity explodes, questions come in a flurry, wonder blooms, and connection is formed with the world around us. We learn about the cycles of specific trees during the season; we grow to care more about the environment; we begin to recognize different species.

But sometimes when we think about what we want to draw or photograph, we end up perplexed. Nothing jumps out as interesting enough to notice or to take the time to draw.

I don’t know in what part of the world you live or your perspective on the nature around you. But, to reignite my own curiosity and put recent experience to the words I’m writing, I set out on a challenge. I went to an empty parking lot in an abandoned part of a former shopping mall and sought out nature.

I was amazed at what I found.

A Closer Look

At first, all I could see was cracked pavement, weeds, and overgrown dividers in the parking lot. ) But there is something I apply in my photography and it definitely helped me on this day: I call it prepositional seeing. Instead of just looking at the weeds around me, I looked over, through, under, in. In so doing, I also looked at them closely. Suddenly, a weed transformed into green leaves with purple-pink edges, and their shapes were not only twisted as if dancing, but the edges were inconsistent. I noticed along the edge of the leaves there were little thorns, and as the sun shone upon them fascinating shadows were cast. The play of color and form and texture was so intriguing. Questions sprang up into my mind – were those the actual shapes of the leaves or had they been formed by insects eating them? If formed by insects, then did the purplish edge happen in response? Or is that the original shape and coloration of the leaves?

This happened again and again, and suddenly I wasn’t in a barren parking lot but in a whole environment to be explored. The overgrown grasses had gone to seed and their swaying in the breeze was beautiful. The cracks in the curb were no longer visible when I looked closely at the color and texture of a pine-like bush.

Then, I started noticing something else…

A Deeper Listen

This happens to me all the time now. When I get into that place where my concerns and the troubles in the world are silenced because of my hyper focus on what I’m seeing, the acuity of my hearing increases. In fact, I’ve come to realize:

The more you see, the more you hear.

The more you hear, the more you listen.

The more you listen, the more you see.

…and so it continues…

Susanne Swing Thompson

It happened on this day as well. The more I looked, the more I heard, and off in the distance was that cheeping. I followed the sound and wandered over to an area with a tree, several overgrown bushes, signage that had been dumped on the ground, and debris from seasons of leaves falling and weeds growing.  I looked and I listened.

There was a Mockingbird in the branches of the tree. The Mockingbird was an adult, but it watched from a distance what soon caught my eye: the branches in one of the bushes were moving. It was from there that the cheeping came. Walking around, bending down, I finally caught sight of the juvenile Mockingbird that was making its plaintive cheeping sound.

What a delight it was to get to watch as I sat there and photographed: once the adult ventured into the branches for its young one. Other times, the juvenile sought food on its own. Calls from the young one’s sibling sent it flying awkwardly to another bush. Sometimes it hid deep in the branches; other times it ventured out just a little.

The “seeing” continued as I sat there and watched. I began to notice the bees pollinating the flowers on the bushes, and the Fritillary Butterfly seeking nectar. A place that had been ugly was now coming beautifully alive.

While walking home, I reflected: life longs to flourish. Nature does everything within its adaptive power to do so. What a beautiful opportunity to see the interplay of nature once again: experiencing it in being present, looking at the details through my lens; and interacting with it as I created in my nature journal. The parking lot hasn’t changed, but my perspective has.

About Susanne

Susanne Swing Thompson lives in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. In the past few years she has taken up photography and writing full time, and she greatly enjoys nature journaling in pen and watercolor. She sends a free weekly nature email called “A Closer Look,” which is simply one of her nature photos and a short bit of original writing.

You can see more of Susanne’s work here:

www.wren-photos.com (and you can subscribe to A Closer Look on the Contact page)

Instagram: @wren_nature_photos

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Wrennaturephotos

Confessions of a (Recovering) Neurotic Naturalist

Chasing a Feeling

I scramble toward solid ground, tripping over fallen branches onto the elk path leading deeper into the woods. Cottonwood fragrance fills the air and songs of robins, Pacific wrens, and woodpeckers produce a delightful spring cacophony. I take another step and a dull ‘plop’ alerts me to a large adult red-legged frog fleeing my boot. They don’t make another move and I recognize my opportunity. For a moment I hesitate. Frogs are a challenging subject for me and I worry about ‘messing up’ or ‘doing it wrong’. Reminding myself that it’s the depth of observation I bring to this little creature and not the outcome on paper that matters to me I take a deep breath, perch on a dry branch out of the mud, and begin blocking in the shape on my page with my pencil. My first hesitant sketch doesn’t look quite like my subject, but I can feel myself tuning in and calming down. That awkward sacrificial pancake paves the way path to the next sketch. I start another sketch of the frog, this time paying closer attention to my subject who sits patiently on the ground next to me. I can tell they’re aware of me but for the moment we have a tentative truce. “I won’t bother you,” I promise. “I just want to do your portrait.” The frog shifts slightly at the sound of my voice but doesn’t leap away.          

Within a few minutes I’m through with my careful contour sketch and feel satisfied with it. I could stop now and move on, but wouldn’t it be even better to record color notes of this frog? A new fear seizes me: should I add watercolor? I’ve gotten to where I usually feel reasonably confident with my pencil drawings, but my watercolor skill hasn’t kept pace, mostly because I allow my fear to get the better of me. I worry that I’ll ruin an otherwise ‘acceptable’ drawing and easily become paralyzed by apprehension. I take a moment to acknowledge that feeling but making a conscious decision not to let it to overwhelm me, reminding myself that the key to improving my watercolor is to get more Brush Miles in and that the goal of my journaling is not to produce pretty pictures but to notice more, observe more deeply, and experience more richly.

I pull my watercolor palette from my field bag and pull my paint sock onto my wrist. I begin to paint, beginning with shadows and gradually building up colors and values. Slowly, I feel something in my experience shift. As I pull my brush across the paper, my eyes flitting from the frog to my sketch and back again, the details of my environment begin to crystallize. I feel the gentle buzz of enjoyment and wellbeing wash over me and a thought spontaneously occurs to me that, “This is the good stuff!” In this moment the image on paper is only a bonus. I’m observing in a way that eclipses simply “looking” at a frog. This convergence of attention, curiosity, and total absorption in the moment—this is why I nature journal!

The Scenic Route

Growing up I’d always been interested in art and nature but it took me a long time to figure out how to combine them. As a kid I wanted to be an animator for feature films but ignored the advice of professionals to draw from life. Mostly I liked to trace and copy cartoons for fun and I liked it when grown-ups told me my art was Good. I quickly learned that people generally only saw drawing as worthwhile if the results could be judged as Good, and being Good At Art became very important to me. The problem was that the road to Good is a long trek through learning and hours of practice and almost requires a dedication to making art for its own sake. This obsession with perfection and making Good Art (whatever that means) would hound me for years, but I eventually I did learn to balance the creative impulse that drives me to keep sketchbooks with the inner gremlin that tries to convince me my work isn’t good enough. It seems like life was going to keep presenting me with opportunities to learn this lesson no matter how long it took or how I stubborn I chose to be!

At age nine I announced to my daycare teacher that I wanted to take nature notes like my idols in National Geographic did. She handed me a pencil and paper and led me to the edge of the daycare playground where I faced an impenetrable wall of English ivy. A couple furtive, skittish birds skulked in the shadows. This was nothing like the clear views of wildlife I enjoyed in nature documentaries! I was automatically overwhelmed and lost my nerve, not sure where to even begin. In elementary school we were given little notebooks and encouraged to go out and explore with them. I checked out a book about pill bugs from the school library and examined living specimens under logs but was totally petrified when it came to recording notes about them. What was my page supposed to look like? How did I know if I was doing it right? I hid that notebook under the couch and tried to forget about it.

I wouldn’t revisit nature journaling till I was fourteen. I was deep into a preoccupation with sub-Saharan Africa and had my mind made up to be a game ranger in South Africa’s Kruger National Park. I even had a map of South Africa posted above my bed! There was just one problem. I didn’t know the first thing about South Africa’s native plants or birds, I’d never seen a reedbuck, and couldn’t tell spoor from pugmarks. Then it occurred to me: why didn’t I practice on the local environment? Surely if I became knowledgeable about Pacific northwest natural history it would be a transferable skill and I could pick up bushveld natural history no problem. At some point while concocting this genius plan I came across an image of biologist George Schaller’s field notes from his studies of Serengeti lions in the 1960s. The notes were meticulous, handwritten in small tidy script on quad-ruled paper. For some reason this photograph gripped my imagination and lit a fire in my belly.

Something about it made sense to me and the very next day I marched to the store and bought a graph notebook and began keeping a nature journal. I kept notes made in the field in an old reporter’s notebook, eventually upgrading to a series of waterproof journals that could withstand Pacific northwest downpours and dunks in wetland mud. The freedom of the field books, which I felt safe letting be scribbly affairs, allowed me to record unselfconsciously. At my desk back at home I would stitch a story together in my journal from my field notebook. This worked well for me through my teen years. I fell so deeply in love with the cottonwood river bottoms and northwest bird songs of my neighborhood that I eventually discarded my game ranger ambitions and began focusing entirely on my local bioregion.

But my nature journal system could be frustrating and fussy. It was time-consuming and impractical to essentially journal twice for each experience. Sometimes it felt as though something was lost in translation between the event and the recording. And I missed out on the breathless exuberance of my field notes in my “finished” journal entries. Perhaps most painfully I eventually acknowledged that I was using the writing-only format to avoid drawing, which still scared me. I was captivated by Clare Walker Leslie’s book Keeping a Nature Journal and the loose, fearless approach she took in her own sketchbooks. Maybe that was something I could do? I occasionally sketched in my journals, but was afraid to go as big and bold as Leslie seemed to do so effortlessly. I stuck with my imperfect system longer than I should have, muscling through the friction I felt but not ready to make the leap to unlined paper and a focus on drawing.

In my early twenties I dispensed with the quad notebooks altogether, that collection of journals discarded one morning in a spasm of dread, casualties of my neurotic habit of throwing things away when I feel overcome by anxiety or indecision. Maybe I just wanted to wipe the slate clean. Still, many of the discoveries I had catalogued in those early journals remain clear and vivid to me, a testament to the power of journaling to support memory. For a number of years, busy with a demanding AmeriCorps I stuck to my scribbly field notebooks, stream-of-consciousness recordings of my experiences and observations exploring Seattle greenspaces and beaches at all hours on my bike. These were very intense, almost transcendental experiences – some nights, long after dark on some cobbly beach, I would look up and realize I was accompanied by racoons, or find myself at sunrise on a bluff overlooking Elliot Bay morning fog obscuring the city skyline so that I felt as if I had slipped through a wormhole to a precolonial time.  

After a few years of haphazard nature-notebooking I eventually gave that up too. I still kept personal sketchbooks. I sketched people covertly on my long bus commutes, attended figure drawing classes, dabbled in urban sketching, and liked to draw cartoons about my life, but I avoided nature journaling out of feelings of inadequacy. Around this time, I discovered a copy of the Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling and was enthralled by it. The first time I leafed through those pages I found tears welling up in my eyes. Jack seemed to feel the same way about nature that I did, and he was actually doing something about it! He wrote with such tenderness and reverence, and while I felt intimidated by the skill evident in his drawings, his friendly approach was encouraging. I kept a procession of unfinished nature journals in the following years, always abandoning them before they were completed. Eventually mental and physical health challenges derailed these efforts and I paused nature journaling. But I always felt a quiet desire to return to the practice, and even privately promised myself that one day, when I felt ready, I would pick up a journal and try again.

The Breakthrough

Like many of us who rekindled abandoned or neglected hobbies during the yawning chunks of time presented by the COVID-19 lockdowns, I revisited nature journaling, this time in earnest, at the beginning of 2020. I had been hemming and hawing about giving it another go, my inner gremlin dragging me down with such unhelpful contributions as “if you couldn’t stick with it before, what makes you think you will this it this time around?” But something changed when I stumbled across Marley Peiffer’s Unlock Your Potential video. I started watching it on a morning I’d already well overslept, newly laid-off, feeling stuck and inert. Just a few minutes in and I was riveted. I started scrawling notes in my pajamas. Learning about the concept of growth mindset initiated a cognitive shift, and it’s the reason I started nature journaling again and have stuck with it for the last two years (take that, gremlin!).

I realized that this practice could be a haven from my perceived need for perfection. I didn’t have to share my journal pages with anyone if I didn’t want to. I could make sloppy, messy pages, and it was just fine. I could work painstakingly on a journal entry if I wanted, or dash four pages’ worth of notes in a few short minutes if I chose. Everything I did in my journal was great, and if I didn’t like something I wrote or drew I could simply turn the page and start a new one. I tossed that unhelpful standard of making Good Drawings I’d been schlepping around since childhood and instead focused on making lots of drawings, and then lots more drawings. If I felt discouraged about a drawing I took some of John Muir Laws’ advice and turned it into a diagram. I decided to measure the success of my drawings not by aesthetic prettiness but by whether I recorded something interesting, noticed something new, or enriched my experience in nature. Most importantly, I was having the time of my life! I couldn’t get enough.

I realized with delight one day while sketching complicated leaf shapes that awkward ‘first-attempt’ drawings are tangible records of your brain grappling with something new and challenging. The next drawing is a little better. This one after that, a bit better than before. The very next might be a total flop, as I tried a different approach or forced myself to draw less deliberately and more boldly. But eventually, with repeated practice and persistence, I would get closer to describing what I saw with greater accuracy, with the bonus that by the end of the process I knew my subject much better than I ever would have had I simply plucked a leaf and inspected it without taking written or visual notes.

I was intimidated by drawing birds, who seemed to know just when I started to sketch them and would fly away the minute I looked down at my paper. But I practiced deliberately, studying references at home and watching John Muir Laws videos when the weather was terrible. Just when I started to feel confident about my quick-draw bird sketching capabilities, a pair of black-tailed deer wandered into my backyard and as I scrawled sketches in my journal I realized that I did not have a very good foundational knowledge of drawing ungulates. I started studying deer and elk skeletons, muscles, poses, and even the details of dead elk my dog Niko and I found in the woods near our home. I copied Bill Berry’s caribou drawings to get inside his head and really learn how to construct the forms of these animals. Now I feel a lot more confident quickly sketching elk I see around my home, worrying not so much about the drawing part but focusing on recording my observations faithfully.

In the first couple years of this process I would often find myself exhausted and discouraged at some point by a perceived lack of progress. I would need to take an extended break of a couple weeks up to even a few months from my journaling. I would feel ashamed of my perceived failure but after experiencing a few cycles of this phenomenon I realized that creativity seems to work like a muscle. If you want a stronger muscle you have to push that muscle to perform beyond its current ability, but you can’t keep working out the muscle without a break or you’ll injure yourself. You have to let that sore muscle heal from the stress of the exercise by giving it lots of rest, fuel, stretches and active recovery. With nature journaling or any other kind of creative skill building, the principles are the same.

I might spend a lot of time for a couple weeks intensively practicing drawing elk or insects, but eventually I’ll exhaust my brain’s capacity for practice. Now when I feel tapped-out I take a break. I draw something else, write in my journal, or do lower-effort journal entries. If my hand and brain simply refuse to cooperate I find other ways to engage my brain. I go on walks with my dog, take naps, read, watch movies or play video games, or study other artists’ work for inspiration. Without fail, after a few days that little creative imp starts to nudge me back to my journal, and I find that when I return to my challenging subject, I have a better handle on it than I did before.

This approach to nature journaling totally changed my relationship with art and creativity. Rather than being an agonizing experience of feeling like a failure and giving up, it’s a joyful, sometimes frustrating, but ultimately always rewarding experience. Rather than fall into the “pretty picture” trap and beat myself up about my performance, I focus on the pleasure of being outdoors and the gratitude I feel for the opportunity to observe and experience and discover for myself with my journal as my mentor.

Your Turn!

My journey to nature journaling has been a bumpy and nonlinear one. Susceptible to self-doubt and prone to frustration, there were many times I wanted to throw in the towel, but a tiny ember of that creative impulse never let me really give it up, no matter how discouraged I felt. I hope that if you’re struggling with your nature journal practice, whether it’s been a long time since you’ve even cracked the spine on your journal and you’re feeling guilty or negative about the experience, feel stuck in a rut, or if you’ve always wanted to try but you’re terrified of messing up or doing it wrong, you’re willing to give it just one more shot. And then another one after that. Each new page is a new opportunity and I hope you take every one.

About the Author

Sawnch was born in Seattle and grew up all over the Puget-Willamette Lowlands Bioregion. These days I live in Packwood, Washington and love exploring my environment with binoculars and trusty nature journal kit by my side. If you would like to get in touch with Sawnch, you can email: okinokee@gmail.com.

An Experimental Nature

My initial thoughts about nature journaling were probably typical… a notebook or sketchbook filled with drawings and jottings about flora and fauna, neatly labelled, dated and symbols indicating weather conditions. Thanks to initiatives like International Nature Journaling Week and the word ‘greensketching’ coming to the fore as, post-pandemic, we all become more aware of the benefits whilst connecting with nature, I now have a much broader view of what nature journaling can be.

I am coming to nature journaling as an artist who loves experimenting with a variety of art materials. I create work that veers from reasonably accurate to messy and sometimes abstracted. Working directly from nature I find great pleasure in drawing the plants in my garden and our three-quarter acre field beyond. I enjoy focusing on the shapes, relating one aspect to another, the negative shapes, textures, details, colour, and then how to capture some of this through drawing.

Let’s look at a few pages and introduce some ideas you might find interesting and like to try…

Simple Line Drawings (Daffodil)

A double page spread. In one hand a humble graphite pencil and in the other a bright yellow daffodil. The pencil lines are a little hesitant, stop and start, exploring the shapes of the trumpet and open petals. Double check, how many petals? I add some shading with hatched lines, and a few details. A flower still closed catches my eye, the papery bract evident, and that joins the page. Pausing, the ‘tightness’ of the drawing encourage me to go on… I want daffodils that express more looseness, that say something about the joyfulness of this Spring flower. I scribble across the middle of the sketchbook lightly with yellow and green water mixable crayons. A swish of water and the pigments dissolve. Once dry, more lines in pencil to describe the flowers. I work quickly and, now familiar with the shapes, this creates more energy. There is a slight calligraphic quality as I increase or decrease the pressure on the pencil mark. A few more buds cluster onto the opposite page. Another change in angle for a final flower, sketchy and with a little shading. I stop, happy to have a drawn record of these daffodils on the Meteorological First Day of Spring.

 Art Tips: 

1.      Add colour to the page before drawing and create another layer of interest.                             

2.      Hold the pencil further away from the tip and try changing the speed you make marks and lines – how does it change the quality? Which do you prefer?

Simple Layered Drawings (Dog Rose)

It is warm and sunny. I am sitting in my little field on a fold up stool, an A3 board on my lap. It is June 2020 and the very first International Nature journaling Week! An A3 sheet of cartridge paper has been folded into a concertina. I have cut a sprig of Dog Rose, a wild hedge plant that scrambles through the trees and bushes of the old hedge line. It is a magnificent sight every year. The sun is on my back and casts strong shadows on the white paper. Grabbing a pencil I trace around those plant shadows, changing the angle of the flower and leaves periodically. Sometimes the shadows are strangely elongated or the tracing very odd as the gentle breeze alters the shadow positions.

I have my watercolour paintbox nearby and a waterbrush. Ignoring the initial drawing I create simple washes of colour in the shape of the flower petals and leaves directly over the top. The final result could be seen as a bit of a mess by some, but I am satisfied. Overlapping the two simple stages has formed a more complex web of lines and colours than in isolation. For me, it conveys the habit of this Dog Rose, how it uses other structures to clamber through on its spreading journey.

Art Tips:

1.      Try shadow drawing. No expectations as to how it will look. If there’s a breeze either pause until the shadows resume their place or let your pencil dance and follow!

2.      Change media and draw further views of your subject on the top. Ignore what is beneath, let both layers have their own identity.

Long-tailed Tits

I spend lots of time watching the bird life in my garden. Pheasant strut onto the patio, rooks caw overhead and in the tree tops noisily, green woodpeckers stab their beaks into the ground hunting for ants and many garden species enjoy the bird feeders. Long-tailed Tits are among my favourites. In big family groups they cluster together amicably on the feeders in the lilac tree, and then they are off. Such a fleeting glimpse. I have moved out of the sketchbook onto an A4 sheet of watercolour paper. A bird book is open and I read more about the characteristics and habitat. I study the photo illustrations, my own photos too blurry or distant to be much use. I sketch 3 little birds in pencil, just studies, not a full composition.

Using a big paintbrush I sweep burnt sienna and Payne’s grey watercolour onto the birds and beyond. On impulse, whilst still wet, I grab a peg and dash outdoors to the feeders and peg the page to a twig. It is very windy, the page flaps about wildly. The paint drips down with gravity and wind action. I encourage this further by spattering on more water with my brush. It feels elemental and crazy and I am delighted to see my drawn birds flapping in the lilac tree where earlier, I had watched a flock of these little beauties. 

Art Tips:

How could you interact more with the elements? Let the wind push wet paint over the page. Let falling raindrops react with water soluble media. Let frost form ice crystals in watercolour.

Blackberry Season

Early September, the field is edged with blackberries. My young grandson is visiting with my daughter. We wander up the field in the sunshine, picking blackberries… some in the pot, some we eat and savour fresh off the bramble bushes. I bring a sprig back with me to the patio table. Inspiration strikes, “Who would like to squash blackberries?” I quickly gather sketchbooks, pens, pencils and spread them on the table. My grandson watches with surprise as I squash some of the juicy fruits onto my paper and needs no encouragement to try the same on his pages! Even my daughter can’t resist this playful approach. We spend a happy hour squashing blackberries, drawing and chatting. I add a pen drawing on the facing page and use water to spread out some of the juices.    

I do some penwork to describe the little lobes of each fruit over the main blobs of dried juice and highlights are added with a white gel pen. Blackberries are fun to squash, draw and delicious to eat!

   Art Tips:

How can you incorporate some natural colour into your journal pages? Squash and rub flowers/leaves/berries if they are in your garden or abundant in the wild. Tap pollen from flowers or catkins and press or smear to stain the paper. Maybe try your hand at making natural botanical inks?

Pat, Present and Future

For many years I taught adult art classes and gradually my interest became focused on drawing the natural world. As adults we can have a lot of expectations and insecurities about creativity and I have always been passionate in my encouragement of experimentation, playfulness and enjoyment of the process rather than the final outcome. As I look at my grandson, who turns 4 in September, and watch his intuitive in-the-moment approach to creative activities I am full of admiration. Contemplating the future I hope I will have many years out in nature with my grandchildren, sketchbooks in hand – experimenting, playing and chatting about our discoveries.

Whatever your style of nature journaling, whatever your level of experience, I do hope you have found something of interest in my approaches. Why not unleash your inner child and experiment a little?

About Tod

Tod Evans is a versatile artist and very much inspired by the natural world. She happily works with pencils, charcoal, pens, inks, watercolour, acrylics and pastels – often combining several media when exploring the potential of an idea. Her artwork currently focuses on developing more expressive personal mark-making and can be described as ‘lively’, with fusions of colour including dribbles and spatter, often overlaid with calligraphic strokes of brushwork, pastels or inks.

Instagram: @tod.evans

Finding my way through art: How my unexpected life path led me to nature journaling

 I wanted to write a blog post that helps others remember that there is more than one way to realise your potential as an artist. We are all so conditioned to follow a formula of education followed by employment, when in real life our paths can meander all over the place and have us end up in unexpected places!

My earliest memory of drawing is of when I was sat on my mum’s lap, probably no more than four years of age, doodling wild animals in a picture book about them. Something striking from that memory is how my mum allowed me to draw in books (I later worked as a librarian and can empathise with anyone horrified at the thought!). Rather than chiding me for “ruining” my books, my mum allowed and encouraged me to add my own art to them. I think that really had a strong influence on me as an artist, and is certainly something that shows in my most recent nature journaling: My artwork is a collage of images and writing, assembled together from experiences. I hasten to add that I don’t make a habit of doodling in books that aren’t my own!

Another childhood memory is of my uncle Richard taking me birdwatching and pond-dipping with him. I was about five or six, and together we explored the Nottinghamshire countryside in search of different species. My time with him really nurtured a deep love of nature, and a fascination with so many animals. He too would sketch and journal the things he saw, so I was certainly influenced by him as well.

 People might find it strange that I didn’t formally study art until I left school. I’m from a working class family and I’ve no doubt my parents were working too hard to be able to notice and direct my artistic talents in an academic sense. I missed out on GCSE Art at school, and didn’t do an A-Level in Art until I was 24. I left school with very average qualifications, and didn’t get the grades I needed to study zoology or ecology at university. At 18, I ended up in vocational training and a job I’d had no intention of getting.

 This part of my tale isn’t a sob story – I have no regrets and I’m truly content with the path of events that has led to where I am in my life. I wanted to mention this part of my experience as an artist, to remind others that you don’t need to follow the standard, accepted way of things, nor bow to the pressure of getting the “right” qualifications to achieve what you want in life. All you need is a strong desire to get something, and the willingness to work hard and persevere at it.

After getting an ‘A’ in A-Level Art (my first ever ‘A’ in anything!), I then did a Foundation in Art and Design, which is a multi-disciplinary course intended to help choose a degree course in the Arts. At 26, I went to Bournemouth to study Model Making for Design and Media and although I thoroughly enjoyed the degree course, I didn’t feel like the industry was for me. Creating sets, maquettes and costumes for TV and movies is thrilling work, but also comes with an environmental price: The waste and toxicity of the materials involved just didn’t sit right with my ecological principles. I quit, took a year out in Australia to get my bearings, then returned to London to complete my degree in different subject: Painting.

At the age of 34, I graduated with a Bachelor’s in Fine Art: Painting in 2013. I’d always drawn and painted over the years, but doing that degree really helped me find my own visual voice. It also gave me the confidence to express myself and exhibit my work. I had my first solo show near Waterloo in London, and connected with so many other talented artists in that city.

After five years of living in London, I went nomadic and taught English to non-native speakers from my laptop. I spent half a decade living out of a bag and travelling through over 30 countries. Not having a fixed place of abode meant I couldn’t make or store large artworks, so keeping my creative output small and portable was the only option. I missed being able to work with paint and on a large scale, but found a new joy in using ink and pencil, filling lots of little books with sketches and impressions from my travels.

 At the time of writing this post, I don’t make a living from my artwork. In fact, I never have. I worked as an English language teacher during and after my studies, and continued to teach English abroad and online right up until last November. I mention this because many people aspire to earn money from their creative talents, and while this is possible, I would say it isn’t easy. There’s also a risk that in putting pressure on yourself to make a living from art, you turn something pleasurable into a chore.

I’ve always wanted to work in a job that helps our natural world, so my recent appointment as a trainee with the Sussex Wildlife Trust has fulfilled that dream. When I got offered the role in November 2021, I started doing a regular nature journal and posted it online. I figured it would be a great way to document my journey of learning about land management and community engagement in the environmental conservation sector.

My nature journal is something that allows me to study, memorise and illustrate within the context of working in nature. I’m really pleased that it’s something that’s inspiring others, whether to create artwork of their own, to get out and experience more nature, or both!

About Mark

Mark Newton was born and raised on the edge of the Peak District in the East Midlands of the UK, and has been fascinated with the natural world from an early age.

 Proudest (wild) moments include cycling for ten days and 350 miles across Vietnam at the tender age of 21, crossing the Himalayas from Kathmandu to Lhasa while helping to make a documentary in 2004, hosting a solo exhibition of paintings in London in 2014, white-water rafting down the Zambezi, horse-riding on a beach in South Africa, and surfing with a pod of Hector’s Dolphins in New Zealand. He has visited over 30 countries so far and hopes that his carbon footprint is offset by the fact that he doesn’t intend to ever have children.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” - Keats

If you look around yourself you will find that nature is full of beauty and wonders. It has the power to tickle our imagination and yet soothe our senses at the same time.

View of one of my favourite places, Abbotabad city in Pakistan.

From a fallen feather to a fallen leaf, from a sprouting bud to a fully grown tree, from the quiet yet imposing landscape to the magnificent mountains and the hovering sky nature is full of countless wonders.

I feel overjoyed at the subject choices nature provides whether you look down, sideways or above you there is so much life for you to take in. The wind, the weathers, the changing seasons, the resilience of

natural life despite the harsh and changing environment is worthy of awe and wonder. You just need to pay attention to it so you can admire it fully.

I am astounded at all those shades of green made possible to see by the scientific working of human eye that is able differentiate between them is a miracle in itself. Every time I see a decaying leaf or tree I am reminded of the cycle of life, of death of birth, of renewal and how quietly nature does its job while we human beings have become so engrossed in the modern world with our virtual existence and our problems; that we have lost sight or thought for the simple pleasures and lessons that nature generously offers.

We are not truly living until and unless we take the time to pause, to see, to observe, to listen, to feel, to absorb, to reflect what our natural surroundings bring us. You don’t have to leave city life to do that (though there is no harm in that).

Take a piece of paper, a pencil or pen, sketch draw a leaf, a flower, a plant pot, a tree, a bird, whatever tickles your fancy. If you can overcome judgment and comparisons and do it for the sake of doing it you would be surprised at the sense of little joy it can bring. Describe the place you were at, what made you choose that particular object, what you like about it, what could be different about it, how do you think it will be in a week, month or a year. Write down your thoughts and feelings along with it.

People come and go, they leave but nature it is there telling us that there is a great power beyond our understanding and when you can’t control things and need to let things go look up to nature, practice patience and immerse yourself in it. Whether it is a photo you take, a memory you make, an imprint in your mind or on paper; nature is worth celebrating and a life in sync with it is worth living. 

 “To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.”- William Blake

About BUSHRA REHMAN

Bushra is a self-taught artist from Lahore, Pakistan. She prefers to paint in watercolors and acrylics, and has been painting since the last six years. She has exhibited her work nationally in Peshawar, Pakistan and internationally at FabrianoinAcquarello 2022, IWS, Italy.

She is currently working as a lecturer at National University of Science and Technology (NUST), Risalpur, Pakistan.  With an academic background in business administration and no formal art education; painting remains her joy and passion.  She also loves to nature journal which she discovered last year through nature journaling week and nature journaling blog. She hopes to inspire readers to take up nature journaling so it can bring them joy and peace.

You can find her on Instagram:
💥Watercolors 💥Acrylics (@bushra.rehman.artist) • Instagram photos and videos

Observation as inspiration

I am an artist living in Eastern Ontario, Canada, who makes flowers and plants out of paper. My process of finding a subject to work on, studying it, and creating a three-dimensional flower is one of intense connection with the plant and with nature itself. As I work to refine my craft, I find myself becoming more in tune with the plants and flowers around me. Recently I have been studying the flowers growing wild on my 6 acre patch of land near Lanark, Ontario. The resulting paper wildflowers form part of a continually evolving collection, that is as much a record of that place as a written diary would be.

My favourite place to be is in the forest, observing plants, trees and other wildlife. I’m always amazed at how different it is each time I go- even in the depth of winter. I also love paddling along the river and observing all of the flowers and plants along the banks. There is such a rich variety of life near water.

My process:

I’ve been making flowers and plant out of paper for about 15 years. Over the years I’ve learned when and where I can find certain flowers blooming and I will often go and seek them out. But I’m always on the lookout for new discoveries, too!

When I find a flower I want to recreate I will document it first. I take photos and make drawings, recording time and location and making notes about colour, size, and other characteristics. If the flower is abundant, I pick it and press it. My own personal herbarium is a prized possession; something that I turn to again and again for inspiration and accurate information. Sometimes I trace the petals and leaves into my sketchbook for reference later. This process helps me understand the flower or plant in a way that looking at photographs just doesn’t do.

Once I have the flower documented, I can proceed with making a design. Often I’ll work in white first just to get the shape and size correct. I like to work with all sorts of different papers, from crepe paper to recycled cardboard to convey different textures and weights. Some plants have thick, shiny leaves, and others have fine, delicate blossoms, details that I try to reflect in my finished piece. Sometimes I add bits of cotton or varnish to add to the effect.

I also think about the colour. I will dye, paint, and layer papers together to get the colour right. Sometimes plants have tiny spots or lines and I will draw those on with ink. It is much easier to get the right colour if I’m working from a live plant.

Assembling the flowers is the most exciting part. I get to see the result of my research and design come to life! My studio has become like an indoor garden- with all of my favourites around me!

Working with plants in this observational way has helped me capture the whole essence of a plant. Often I will add buds or dead or dried leaves, seed pods, or fruit. I love to see how plants and flowers change through the season and I try to capture that in my work. When a flower sculpture is finished, I usually mount it inside a shallow shadow box for display. Again I will use the real plant as a guide to pose the stems and leaves naturally within the box. I like the graphic quality of a three-dimensional plant within a square box. I try to pay attention to the negative space around the flower and the background colour and texture. Mounting my pieces in this way encourages careful observation from the viewer. When I watch people look at my work I am amazed at the emotional reactions to the different plants. I often hear wonderful stories of peoples’ connections to specific flowers. Wildflowers seem to be especially powerful in bringing about emotional connection.

The process of transforming observation into a piece of art is a magical way to learn about and express the world around you. I encourage everyone to get outside, observe nature, and express your observations, be it as a sketch, journal, or some other art form.

About Linda:

I am an artist working out of my home studio in Almonte, Ontario, Canada. I use all sorts of paper and paint, along with glue and wire, to make realistic plants and flowers. I sell my work through my website under my business name, Daydream Flowers. I have exhibited my flowers in Canada and the United States and my pieces can be found in collections around the world.

Web Address: www.daydreamflowers.ca

Instagram: @Daydream_Flowers

Email: Lvohamilton@gmail.com

The Joy of Drawing Nature

During the first lockdown I re-discovered my love of drawing when I started to draw the plants and flowers in my garden and those I saw on my walks. Connecting with nature has been very important to me all my life. I need to be out every day, even if it is only for a short walk around the block to take in all that is growing and living around us with all my senses. It brings me joy and helps me to relax and feel connected with the life force that we are all part of.

For a few years, I had been sharing my daily observations by posting a photo each day on my Instagram account and during the first lockdown I started adding photos of my drawings. I found there were lots of inspiring nature artist on social media that were willing to share their work and tips and they gave, and are still giving, me lots of inspiration.

I do not keep a nature journal in which I record my finds in drawings and words. Instead I draw and paint whatever and whenever I like, which is at least once a week. I love experimenting with different techniques, art tools and media. I started drawing from the photos I took, but I’ve been drawing from nature in nature more and more. Mostly in our garden, but I also go out sometimes to find a spot to sit, observe and sketch.

Inspired by Katherine Owen (@thewalkingsketchbook) a fellow artist I connected with on Instagram, I started to include rain and snow in my drawings. Here you can see a rain painting I made. I drew the flower first, then added a few drops of ink and let the rain splash it around. After the ink was dry I added colour to the flower with colouring pencils. And this is a painting in collaboration with the snow. I brushed a layer of Quinck blue-black ink on paper keeping the moon empty and then took it outside to let tiny snow flakes fall on it. The snow flakes created these little stars turning everything into a magical night sky.

A year or so ago I also started making my own inks from plants and flowers. Such a fun things to do and a lovely medium to work with. I have made ink from Acorn caps, Poppies, Daffodils, Privet Berries, Rooibos tea, Golden Rod and even Apple tree bark.
Here is a drawing a made with dip pen and brush and two of my inks: Apple bark and Privet berry.

Using dip pen is a great way to free up my drawing as you cannot help it getting a bit messy, which I love. Another way to free up my sketching was by using a stick. This is a sketch of our Medlar tree made with a stick and Privet berry ink. I also like drawing with my non-dominant hand and I love continuous line drawings. I find using all these different techniques, tools and materials keeps it fun and, as in nature, there are so many things to learn and discover.

Hopefully this blog has given you some inspiration to go outside, connect with nature and have fun experimenting with all kinds of ways to draw nature!

About Marion

My name is Marion Ooijevaar (my surname means Stork) and I live with my husband, our lovely dog Lotte and two chickens in a small village in the centre of the Netherlands. I work at a teaching college, teaching English and Environmental Education and I have set up ‘Connecting With Nature’ as a means to encourage people to go outside and use all their senses to observe nature and all its wonders.

Instagram: @connectingwithnature.nl
website: www.connectingwithnature.nl

From The Notebook

The term ‘Nature Journaling’ is relatively new to me.

It first attracted my attention on social media or possibly YouTube a few years ago probably by watching the great videos of John Muir Laws. For a while, that description did not seem to fit my output. I don’t go out ‘Nature Journaling’ and my notes often do not look like the beautifully accomplished examples generally on show. They are more of a written diary that is sometimes illustrated when the inspiration arises and often the sketches are kept separate to the written notes. Hence, they are still referred to as ‘my notebooks’ rather than ‘my nature journals’ .

I have been interested in Natural History most of my life with a particular focus on Birds, Butterflies and Moths, but over the years this interest has branched out to where I now find myself looking at just about any life form that doesn’t require the use of a microscope.

Although I began watching birds as a child in the mid 1970’s I didn’t keep the notes or drawings I made then, which is something I regret. The earliest, rough, small notebook that is in my collection is from 1985 and I have kept them ever since, in varying formats. I keep telling myself to stick with a style and really wish I could, but they change like the wind, to suit my taste at a given time. 

We all have individual styles and tastes when it comes to creativity. My own aspirations are to record what is seen rather than what is known. This can be difficult and often results in some unaccomplished looking work but I quite like that. A loose, rougher style has always attracted my attention with artists the likes of David Measures, Eric Ennion, John Busby, Eileen Soper, Norman McCanch, Peter Partington and DIM Wallace and many other being my influences.

If I was to give advice to anyone starting out with an interest in nature, I would suggest keeping notebooks or journals in any form that you enjoy. Try not to just quote from things you have read in other books or seen elsewhere but make your own personal observations, no matter how small. Even the briefest of entries can, in future, bring the memories of that day come flooding back. Try not to compare your own work with that of more experienced experts, writing and illustration are learned disciplines just as playing a guitar or driving a car is, it all takes practice.

Many people look at works of great artists and become disappointed when their own efforts seem very amateur-ish but they shouldn’t feel like this, it’s a bit like being disappointed when you can’t play tennis like Serena Williams! Just stick with it and enjoy the learning process in the knowledge you are improving all the time while creating a source of memories for yourself in the future.

One final point. You should not feel pressured to publish all of your work on social media, but, if you feel confident enough, I’m sure we would all really enjoy seeing it! Good Luck.

About Stewart

I take photos but I’m not a photographer and I paint but I’m not an artist either! Despite this I have been lucky enough to be published in a variety of books and magazines over the years as and when people are kind enough to ask.  My friends say I never ‘switch off’ with regard to wildlife and as the saying goes, ‘I don’t go birding, I AM birding’. Being in the presence of nature in any form is my reality.

Please see more of my work and wildlife outings at my blog – Stewchat www.boulmerbirder.blogspot.com

 Stewart Sexton, Northumberland.

Fascinated by Swans

My earliest memories of nature journaling come from when I was little. My dad and I used to go for walks watching the birds, picking up objects, and seeing what we could spot – the birds and animals were always favourites. On returning home, I would sit at the coffee table with a “book” made from dad’s old work paper to record the finds we had brought home, both in pictures and words.

Skip forward many years and as an artist I usually have different sketchbooks that I work in simultaneously. They vary in size and paper and are often used for specific things such as urban sketching and watercolours. Within these are drawings and paintings of nature and pocket hitchhikers such as conkers and leaves. Alongside using a sketchbook to record nature, I am always taking photos.

In 2018, I was inspired by the nature journalist Jules Woolford to start a specific nature journal. I also bought John Laws fabulous book The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling, which is so inspirational and a great guide for drawing the natural world. I created quite a few page spreads throughout that year and then… it got neglected being brought out mainly for the International Nature Journaling Weeks. This spread is one that I created in it for my swan project.

Throughout my life I have been fascinated by swans and have sketched them from life since art college days. In 2021, I decided to create a project where I would aim to capture the beauty and movement of swans in various mediums. Starting between lockdowns, I have used a concertina sketchbook to capture swans in all aspects of their life. The handsome swan in my photo was marvellous as it posed for numerous photos and sketches and then came to check out if I had captured their likeness.

In the concertina, I have used different pencils or focused on specific things, like their feet, but I usually get distracted and draw what captures my attention on the day. Here are some images from my concertina sketchbook.

I believe drawing is the basis for all good artwork, especially observational drawing such as these studies from life. In order to improve my knowledge of swans, I have located a museum that has an articulated swan skeleton. However, I will be drawing it on sheets of paper rather than in my nature journal, as I feel larger paper will enable me to capture more. I may then use the journal for specific parts like the skull and wing, let’s see.

For the finished pieces of my Swan Project, due to be completed next year, I hope, I am drawing on black paper with coloured pencils (mainly white of course) and Inktense blocks. Alongside those, I am creating paintings in watercolour and mixed medium.

I believe that even when my swan project is completed I will continue to sketch and photograph swans, alongside other parts of nature that captures my attention, don’t you?

About Sue

I am an international exhibiting artist, currently based in Suffolk UK, producing commissioned drawings and paintings for private collectors. My art is filled with nature and expressed in watercolour and ink. The natural world, gardens and diverse cultures are recurring themes. Whilst realistic in appearance, an artwork represents my interpretation of what I see. Originally a pen and ink artist more often colour enters my work in the form of watercolours or acrylics.

Website: www.suepownallartist.co.uk

Instagram: @suepownallartist15

Etsy shop: www.etsy.com/uk/shop/SuePownallArtist

Facebook: www.facebook.com/suepownallartist

Twitter: @suepownall

Finding Nature’s Treasures: the adventures of a young naturalist.

‘I love nature and drawing. Nature is the most amazing thing to learn about, and we have to look after nature and not harm it. All of the plants and animals and humans are connected, and we can’t survive without each other.’

I’m writing this for my little boy, Benji, who is seven years old. Benji calls himself Benjamin Fallow (though it’s not his real name) after Fallow Deer, as deer are his favourite animals. We live in a village in Sussex, in the south of England, and have been here all of Benji’s life. I’ve only just learned to drive, and work in the village, so for Benji’s very early years we’ve walked everywhere around the village and the woodlands and fields beyond. Benji would already walk a couple of miles at 2 or 3 years old, and notices everything along the way. He draws all the time and loves to draw out in the countryside - he’s been carrying paper and pens in his backpack since he was three!

Benji collects nature treasures and has taught his dad and I, and our family and friends, so much more about nature than we ever knew before! He hasn’t had art lessons, but at his old school he used to teach groups of children how to draw animals, and has taught more art than he has been taught. He loves learning facts about nature and learning as much as he can about animals, insects and plants, and collects so many treasures that parts of our house are turning into a nature museum : ) Benji knows exactly what each of these treasures is, and the story behind each one.

Like so many children, he’s always loved drawing, painting and making things. And from a very young age he especially loved started drawing and painting from nature. When he was 2 (and a half) Benji drew this view from the top of Woolstonbury Hill, a beautiful point in the South Downs, at sunset. Benji said that he had drawn the trees small as they are far away, and next to them are their shadows! I was amazed at the colours and this idea of perspective, as no one had ever told him about that concept. I love the way that the shadows of the trees fall, all in the right direction, cast by the sunset.

Aged 3, Benji found this guinea fowl feather while playing in a local farmyard with some friends. He drew this feather the next morning, sitting at the kitchen table as I was making breakfast. I couldn’t believe it when I saw what he had made.  It was the first time he copied from life so accurately, and I love the fact that he drew the fuzzy bits and imperfections.

When he was 4, Benji drew hundreds of pictures of animals, insects and dinosaurs!

He carried this drawing around for about 3 weeks, adding a butterfly each time he saw one. So these butterflies are all copied from life: Cabbage White, Peacock, Brimstone, Orange Tip, Common Blue, and others.

His love of nature and drawing has just grown over the years. Now, Benji also uses photographs, books, looks at other artist’s work and often researches several sources before drawing an animal. He studies the details of each animal and thinks carefully about each piece. This peregrine falcon that Benji drew age 6 is one of my favourites, and he used several sources as references. But Benjamin always comes back to drawing from nature, and is never happier than when out in nature with his sketchbook, preferably also covered in mud (Benji, not the sketchbook : ) ) 

Drawing and nature have been the constant through some quite turbulent years in many ways. We’ve been through bereavements, job loss, illnesses and changes of school.

The year before the pandemic, Benji was seriously ill, and in hospital with pneumonia leading to a collapse in both his lungs. It took a further six months to get his lungs functioning fully again, so we were already on our own lockdown for much of 2019. With his health history, the doctor advised us to shield during the first lockdown, and finding ourselves all at home together, it was nature and drawing that came to the rescue again!

 Benji really had time to spend on his drawings during lockdown, and it was lovely to have time to let him just enjoy the process, and not have to rush anywhere. We went on long walks each day, and every day some treasure or sight in nature would be Benji’s ‘Nature Gift of the Day.’

 ‘Did you know butterflies have hearts in their wings to pump blood and control their temperature?! They have three hearts!’

‘It’s a Small Tortoiseshell! (that’s my favourite butterfly EVER!). When you see a butterfly you love you can get endorphins, and this makes you so happy that you’re full of energy!!!’

This butterfly made Benji so happy that he ran miles and miles, right up to the top of the South Downs!

‘It’s a barn owl feather! It’s my nature treasure for the day!’ It was a small flight feather, in perfect condition. 

‘Can you hear it?’ Benji flapped it up and down past my ear.

‘That’s how you tell if it’s an owl’s feather, ‘cause they’re silent in flight, such an incredible find!’

‘People used to be scared of barn owls because they fly completely silently, and have such a piercing screech! But I think they bring good luck, they’re so beautiful and their hearing is incredible!’ Benji was explaining it all to me on our walk by the barn owl tree.

‘The shape of their face reflects sound to their ear openings! The barn owls left ear is higher up on its head than its right ear. The Medulla is the bit of their brain that understands hearing, it’s the biggest of any creature because they hear so well!’ 

Every time we pass this tree Benji searches the ground hoping for a feather! He found this barn owl feather in lockdown 1 and drew this, copying from life. The feather is about 12cm long and Benji’s drawing is life size. He used his feather to try to get the details on his barn owl painting absolutely right.

I’ve never had any kind of social media before, but I started sharing Benji’s artwork and nature discoveries during lockdown, and we were able to connect with so many passionate naturalists and artists from around the world. That’s where we met the wonderful Jules and Bethan; and the nature journaling community!

Benji has started making his notes about nature and his drawings into big nature journal pages. We collect together his drawings, and the notes he makes out in the field, which he edits, and makes a collage of these onto A3 sheets so that Benji can remember his gifts from nature this way. These are a couple of his recent pages.

Benji was so excited to be included in Bethan, Journaling from Nature’s, wonderful ‘round the world sketchbook’.

We’ve so appreciated having a garden of our own during this time, and Benji has been turning our little garden into a wildlife haven! He made his own wildlife pond out of an old washing up bowl, a bug area, a bed of pollinators, and a meadow, collecting seeds and planting them, and has been learning to take cuttings grow his own vegetables. He loves drawing flowers and is possibly even more obsessed with the details of flowers and plants than he is of animals now!

 It’s been so special to have that time walking together, and to feel free to roam further and further afield. We recently made it all the way from our village to grandma’s house, nearly 20km in one day, and Benji’s longest ever walk! We’re planning to walk the South Down’s Way this summer, over 100 miles along the hills near here, which I’m sure will lead to lots more nature journaling along the way!

7-year-old Benjamin Fallow is a young artist and naturalist. He draws and paints from nature and loves studying the details and learning facts about each species.

During lockdown 2020, Benjamin won a national nature writing competition for his age group, Nature on your Doorstep with Lucy McRobert, his story was published in BBC Wildlife Magazine. His artwork has been featured on Chris Packham’s Self Isolating Bird Club, by The Wildlife Trusts, the Natural History Museum, RSPB, Greenpeace UK, and received amazing encouragement from Sir David Attenborough! 

If he’s not drawing, Benji’s usually out with his binoculars, or covered in mud : ) Most of all, he is passionate about protecting nature and wildlife, and wants to use his artwork to encourage people to look after nature.

You can find Benji’s work online @benjaminfallow

https://instagram.com/benjaminfallow/

https://twitter.com/benjaminfallow/

Field sketching in your pyjamas

Hi, I'm Liane Tancock and I am an illustrator living and working in Bristol, UK.

I have always loved animals and birds, my illustrations revolve around them. One of the most important things I do is sketch live animals. Every week I go to my local zoo and sketch. I’ve been doing it for a couple of years now and I have seen my work get stronger and I have grown in confidence.

However with Covid everything changed and I had to adapt.

Sketching animals at the zoo has been the most important part of my practice that has pushed and developed my work. It was so important that I did not want lose it. I had always sketched from live cams but now with the changes in our lives I had to turn to them as a replacement for the zoos which were now closed. Sketching from live cams gives me the opportunity to draw and see animals that I may never see in the flesh, in places of the world, where, in reality I may never go.

I can sketch any time of the day or night...while wearing pyjamas.

Sketching live animals is unpredictable, but that’s the joy. You need to let go and not aim for perfection. I’m not aiming for polished finished pieces, instead I aim for a sense of character. I start knowing that some sketches will work and some will fail but that’s ok. I try and draw the gesture, the action and the feeling of it. If the animal is stretching, where in the body is it stretching? Where it is placing its weight?

At first the thought of sketching an animal that could move at any second was frightening, kind of like drawing without a safety net. But the more you do it the easier it becomes. That’s what makes drawing from moving animals so important, it’s not a static photograph, it’s a 3 dimensional animal moving in a space.

There are so many benefits of this type of sketching. You increase your visual library, sketching live animals gives you a better connection and understanding of the birds and animals, and your drawing and observational skills will improve. There are so many stories and characters that appear watching the live cams. These wild places you can watch on the cams can be your window into new worlds and new challenges.

I try and keep the materials I use simple, just a sketchbook and biro, fineliner or a black pencil. I occasionally go back and add colour, but it’s always the work I’ve done with the line that’s most important to me. It doesn’t matter if it’s done on the back of an envelope, it’s the act of doing it that’s important.

I urge you all to give it a go, find the stories and characters happening on these cams.

Grab a biro and a bit of paper and let go and play.

Here is a link to Explore, a wonderful site with live cams across the world.

I was born in Bristol, UK and have a BA (HONS) fine art degree from UWIC, Cardiff. I can most often be found in my own world, where Bears sail pedalos and Wolverines shout at Butterflies. It’s just to the right of one hundred acre wood but 5 miles short of Narnia. See you all there.

Instagram @lianetancockillustration

Facebook Liane Tancock Artist

‘Drawn Walks’ and Nature Journaling

I have written a diary for many years, and as someone who enjoys making art and other creative activities I embraced the idea in Julia Cameron’s book ‘The Artist’s Way’ of writing every day. However the diaries were building up. Where to store them? Whether to re-read them? Although not as cringeworthy as my teenage diaries, and considerably less amusing, I rarely do look back on them, other than to check when certain events took place. They are not of the confessional variety but I certainly would not wish them to be shared after my demise!

More recently however, I abandoned writing a conventional diary and started keeping a visual diary, mostly when away on holiday. And since discovering the online Nature Journal communities, these have gradually morphed into my nature journal. A nature journal tends to be outward looking rather than introspective and to my mind is good for the soul. These are pages that I look back on regularly; happy mementos of time spent outdoors, and I enjoy sharing them with friends and even strangers, such as yourselves!

I did my first drawn maps while on holiday; away with just my other half or in the company of friends. When you are out on a walk with others you can pause to take a quick photo, but patience runs thin if a member of the party stops to sketch each botanical find, so my journaling time needed to be after the day’s activities. I found this to be a really enjoyable and relaxing way of revisiting the day’s events. If we had been for a walk I would sum up the day with a simple illustrated map. A potentially antisocial activity became more communal once my friends knew what I was doing. Unless it was my turn to cook, the days would end in companionable discussions of the events and nature finds of the day, with perhaps a pre-prandial glass of wine to hand, sketching and revisiting the highlights of the walk. At the end of the holiday I could then share the memories of the trip through photos of my pages. I have quite a poor memory so these sketches are great reminders of good times shared.

During lockdown, nature journaling has become a more solitary activity and I value the time I have to spend on focussed and solitary sketching when out and about, or back home at the kitchen table.

On a few occasions I have been able to make a drawn walk ‘on the hoof’ when on my own, stopping to sketch and make notes en route. This requires a leisurely approach and clement weather with nothing to hurry home for. I always have my sketching kit at the ready and take it with me on my regular solitary walks, but more often than not the sketchbook stays in the bag. This has been especially so over the last winter. Cold, rain, snow and wind have all conspired against the notion of sitting drawing nature in that idyllic contemplative state that the research tells us is so good for us. And here in the British Isles, even the summer months do not bring so very many days that lend themselves to perfect ‘plein air’ conditions!

The drawn walk is one way of recording your outdoor experiences, whether drawing from memory, from photo references or from items that you have brought home; or maybe a combination of all three. It gives context to your finds and observations. Walks that you do regularly can show changes over the seasons. A mini landscape can suggest the location, with the option of rectangular or circular frames to indicate where highlights were observed. Some nature journalers use a concertina page for a long linear walk.

I don’t usually aim for scale or accuracy, more a rough sense of where I have been and more often than not there is not room on the page to squeeze in all the things I have seen, in which case just a written note or a symbol can serve as a reminder. When space permits I now also use Rosanne Hanson’s method of noting metadata related to weather conditions. and location. If you are keen to create a more accurate map, or your mind map lets you down, as in the case of our latest walk, a screenshot of an online map can be handy. You can even use gridlines to help with accuracy, although this approach can lead to a less spontaneous result.

My favoured method is to rough out the map and main items lightly in pencil, and then complete the details in ink. I use carbon ink in a Platinum refillable pen. Once dry I can then rub out the pencil and add loose watercolour.

I am very fortunate to live in a place with countryside on my doorstep. Walks either alone, with my other half and occasionally with friends have helped to keep us positive and have provided material for my journal during lockdown. My elderly mother has not been able to go out much and the journal has been a way to bring the outdoors to her. The sketched walks are my solace and will serve as reminders of these very strange times that we are all sharing.

I am a retired teacher, currently studying for my M.A. in Design at Sunderland University. I have used my nature journal practice as a foundation for my design projects.

You can find me on Instagram @flatcapsandfrappuccinos

Nature journaling when nature is wounded

I'm fairly new to nature journaling and I love it as a celebration of the life forms we share the world with. But I’m also curious to explore nature journaling as a "celebration of life" in the other sense of the phrase: how can we use our journals to explore grief when we lose cherished pieces of nature? 

Marley Peifer inspired this idea when he visited his childhood nature patch on a recent episode of The Nature Journal Show.  If I did that I'd find a subdivision of homes where there were once fields and hedgerows full of the birds, small mammals, and insects that sparked a little girl's curiosity and wonder.  Marley suggested using nature journaling to reflect on those changes.

When I’m not nature journaling (or thinking about nature journaling, or exploring nature journal resources) I work as a conservation biologist.  To be honest, it can be discouraging sometimes.  Bearing witness to bad news for nature is a daily job hazard that can lead to ecological grief.

So, I gave Marley's suggestion a try at my current beloved nature patch.  It's a remnant of majestic old-growth forest right in the middle of town. Sketching little portraits of its huge trees is a source of solace for me.  I’m so grateful that the town is taking good care of this treasure.  Sadly, at the edge of this forest younger trees have been cleared (for a subdivision of new homes, of course).

Every time I pass these cut trees I'm sad .  But I'm also intrigued by their interesting patterns.  I think they look like big abstract flowers - they remind me of the flowered wallpaper and fabrics my grandparents had in the 1970s.

I spent some time in silence with these trees, noticing their individual shapes and wondering about their lives.   It felt like a simple and appropriate way to honour them.  Now when I see them I feel something more than just helpless sadness - I feel like I did something to appreciate them.

While I much prefer to celebrate the joyful aspects of nature in my journal, there's a role for acknowledging the difficult things, too.  I'm not alone: I noticed this month that people have been posting their pages of sick or injured songbirds in the Nature Journal Club group.  And in one of Marley's recent live interviews there was an interesting discussion of the role of nature journaling as a tribute to biodiversity, even as we observe its loss.

Using art to express feelings about human impacts on nature certainly isn't a new idea.  Artist Emily Carr created powerful paintings of logging in British Columbia, Canada over 80 years ago.  I use a "regular" journal to cope with the grief of losing a loved one.  So it makes sense that nature journaling is a helpful practice when I’m feeling a little down about the state of things.  

“Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.” - Robin Wall Kimmerer

These words from Robin Wall Kimmerer inspire me and my nature journal practice.  Spending a few moments of time on these sketches and notes is a tiny, personal gift that I can offer to myself, and to nature.

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About the Author - Coco Brdar

Hi nature journalers!  I discovered this inspiring community through the 2020 Wild Wonder conference and the Journaling with Nature Podcast and have been completely hooked ever since. I live on the shore of Lake Ontario, Canada, and I spend as much time as possible outdoors in nature or my garden every day.  I love this practice as a way to appreciate nature, to be truly mindful, and to have fun with creativity.  Here I am at my nature journal patch that's the subject of this blog post.   I also work in the field of conservation ecology as an ecologist (but that's mostly at a computer nowadays). I'm excited about the possibility of sharing this practice with my community and am currently developing some online portals.  In the meantime I've been actively sharing my work on the Nature Journal Club facebook group. 

Why I draw trees

I’ve heard that people find trees intimidating to draw and avoid them as a subject.  For me, it’s not negotiable, I’m drawn to draw them. As the biggest beings on our planet, they are fascinating, endlessly beautiful, and equally as mysterious. It’s obvious that I’m inspired by trees, which is the point. Because if your subject doesn’t call to your heart or move you in some way, I doubt you’ll want to spend the time and effort needed to propel you forward. Developing drawing skills takes practice. And if you’re drawing something you love, it will be a fulfilling journey.

A page from one of my sketchbooks

I enjoy the challenge of figuring out and downright wrestling, with the best way to express the overpowering majesty of a particular tree, for what I call my “tree portraits”.  It’s helpful that I live in the San Francisco Bay Area, surrounded by some of the most iconic trees on the planet, including: the Coast Redwood, Coast Live Oak, Valley Oak (and other oaks), Monterey Cypress, California Bay, and charmers like the California Buckeye. In addition we have some spectacular immigrants, such as eucalyptus trees. 

Illustrator Alan Lee, who beautifully conjured up the magical forests of Tolkien’s Middle Earth, wrote that he’s drawn thousands of trees during his long career. At the time I read that I was frustrated at the slow progression of my tree-drawing skills. But his statement reminded me of the effort required to be good at something, so I’ll wait until I’ve drawn at least several hundred to complain about it again! 

A big plus about my tree- obsession is that I get to spend time outside in their company. And if I can be in a park or a natural setting, it’s time well-spent for a lover of nature. Even street trees in urban areas are interesting to draw and observe, especially the older ones that have some story to tell in the twist and turns of their trunks. I’ve even drawn trees while sitting on my portable stool in front of someone’s house in my neighborhood. The more you observe and spend time with trees, the better you’ll come to understand and recall their seasonal patterns of growth, branching characteristics, bark texture, and foliage, which all differ widely among different species. I typically do studies onsite with the intention of working on a finished piece at home, so I take lots of photos. 

But sometimes I draw outside just for the pleasure of it!

My Favorite Portable Art Supplies 

I use a Mabef Plein Air easel for large drawings, and I’ve found that charcoal is a great medium for these studies. In the photo above I was on a cliff above a marine reserve overlooking the Pacific Ocean in a spectacular grove of Monterey Cypress trees.

My portable folding stool, backpack, and the sketchbooks of choice for the day.

Right: My favorite drawing tools- colored pencils, including watercolor pencils, water soluble graphite pencil, Neocolor II soluble wax pastels, charcoal pencil, Blackwing pencils

Backpack: My favorite backpack is one that my husband got at a convention, and it’s really a computerbag (above). It has a couple of compartments for my sketchbooks and drawing tools, plus my folding stool. 

Folding stool: I got this at a camping store. It’s very light and I find it comfortable enough.

Sketchbooks: Like many artists I know, I love sketchbooks and I have an embarrassing number of them that I work in simultaneously.  The size and type of paper is how I choose which ones to bring with me for specific outings. I love soluble media, so I favor thicker papers, either for use with mixed media or watercolor.  I also consider sustainability and I’ll choose recycled paper or alternative products made with bamboo or cotton papers. My finished work tends to be on 100% cotton papers, which is also a good choice for archival reasons.

I favor bound sketchbooks because I love the feeling that it’s in a book form, and since I love to use graphite, it smears less. Just a personal preference! They are also comfortable to hold in my lap while sitting on my stool drawing (I use clips to keep the pages from flipping over).

Drawing tools: Faber Castell Polychromos colored pencils, Faber Castell Albrecht Durer water color pencils, Faber Castell Aquarelle graphite (soluble), soluble Caran d’ Ache Neocolor II wax pastels, Blackwing pencils (their motto: “half the pressure, twice the speed!”) they go on silky, and their easers work. And of course, a water brush. 

Working in soluble media has become my favorite method out in the field, it’s fast and I enjoy the process.

Portable easel: Sometimes it’s a great fun to bring along my Mabef Plein Air easel and a masonite drawing board for larger sheets of paper.

My final thoughts about drawing trees is that it requires patience and love. If my tree portraits inspire others to value trees, my hope is that they won’t them for granted and will take better care of them.

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About the Author

“I have deep gratitude for trees- for millennia they have provided us with the resources to maintain Earth as a livable planet. And we humans reap countless benefits from trees in our daily lives, including the very oxygen we breathe, much of the food we eat, and many of the materials we use. Just as important, they awe and inspire us with their profound beauty and grandeur, and feed our souls. Our fate is linked to theirs.” 

Patricia is an exhibiting member of the Northern California Society of Botanical Artists. She studied in the Filoli Botanical Art Certificate Program in Woodside, CA, and this led to her current interest in “tree portraits” as a personal project. She received her B.A. degree in Studio Art from San Jose State University. During the 1990’s she was an exhibiting ceramic artist and a member of the Mountain View Potters studio. 

Patricia is also a horticulturalist and had her own garden design business for the past seven years until the fall of 2020. 

She is a Chilean–American.

Find her on Instagam:  @plarenas_onpaper

How listening to my inner voice led me to my nature journaling journey…

My journey into nature journaling really began when I finally listened to the voice inside that whispered “I want to draw and paint”. I now realize that voice has been with me through out my life.

Little seeds were planted in me along the way … a gift of a paint set from my grandmother when I was 5 or 6 - I remember opening it in wonder, but I don’t remember playing with it - maybe I was told not to make a mess, or maybe I thought it was too precious to use. I have vivid memories of the annual hand drawn Christmas card , sent from a distant Aunt. I would study the ink line image in awe, amazed that someone I was related to, could do such a thing. The third seed I recall, as evidence of this inner voice being ever present, is the deep reaction I would have, whenever I came upon someone standing outdoors, at an easel, painting. Without conscious thought, I always said aloud “I would love to be one of those people someday”. But, with nothing or no one around me saying ‘you can do this,’ I did not.

“Trust my Nudges” - The Universe

Looking back, its so easy to see how these clear memories reflected my soul speaking ~loud and clear …my inner voice was trying to get me to listen. But, as is common for many of us “late bloomers”, it took me until my mid 50’s before my responsibilities, my life experience, and opportunity aligned to a point that, when I became aware of this thing called ‘“nature journaling” in sketchbooks… a spark ignited.

“When the path reveals itself, follow it” - Cheryl Strayed

Once the door opened to this amazing world of nature journaling, I felt like Dorothy must have felt , in the Wizard of OZ, when her house landed and she opened the door to the colorful, fantasy that was Munchkin land. This practice has changed me and my life to such an extent that I cannot really remember who I was before.

And, this, I know for sure, is the feeling of pure alignment with my soul’s desire to create and become more connected to the natural world.

“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river running through you, a joy” - Rumi

I began learning with countless online classes and then taking in person classes whenever I could. I was like a sponge. Then, I began to combine my desire to travel, with destination classes. Every encounter and experience nature journaling, near or far, whether sketching the birds in my own back yard, or sitting at sunset in a vineyard in Tuscany…has fed my soul and enriched my life. In addition to my responses in nature, my pages can record my experience of world events or personal events, in need processing. If not for this passion, I would never have had the chance to meet and become friends with so many other artists, teachers, and special people, who share their gifts and time, so generously, in this community, this Tribe. I belong.

“Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire” - Jennifer Lee

Now I’ve been at this about 8 years…I still sometimes have to deal with the monkey mind that says you aren’t good enough - you are not an artist, or, you aren’t legitimately a nature journaler, because your work doesn’t fit in a certain mold. My pages are sometimes pretty, sometimes not, sometimes inspired, sometimes a mess, sometimes more spiritual with quotes or poems, sometimes more factual, sometimes from real life, sometimes from photos. They are sometimes planned, sometimes spontaneous. Some have glued on bits of this or that… all of them are important to me. I am learning to love them all , enriched by the deep memories rooted in me, by the “doing” of these pages.

For me, the reward is not about the end result, as much as it is about the life experience imbedded in that page. It’s about the meditation that comes with total focus.

I hope, if you are just beginning to hear the call to do what you feel drawn to do, whatever it is, that you will take a leap of faith and jump in, with all your heart - to connect more deeply with our fascinating, natural world, and with your own soul.

“When we awaken to the beauty of nature, the doors to our true self are opened wide, for divine healing on all levels” - Robyn Nola

I am so grateful to everyone who has shared a quiet moment or two, sketching with me, feeling the grace and joy that nature journaling brings.

“ I go into nature to be soothed and healed and to have my senses put in order” -John Burroughs

Sketchbook in hand…I will see you “out there” … Karen

My Top Tips:

1. I always begin a new sketchbook with a quote, or poem, that is meaningful to me at that time. I feel it breaks the ice of that first page, and also imbues the book with a deeper awareness. The deeper the connection the more rewarding the experience.

2. My go to mantra is “it’s just paper” and I call upon it whenever the ebee jeebies of self doubt creep in - it does the trick to ground me and get me focused on the moment at hand.

3. There is no need to define my style, or limit myself with a label of some sort…I am a complex, multi dimensional creature, so anything that I create from connection with my authentic self is worthwhile and valuable…to me.

4. Creative energy is cyclical, not constant. Expect to feel it ebb and flow, honor that flow, and trust that it will always return. ( i.e. Don’t stress if you can’t produce something everyday)

5. Use all your senses, trust your intuition. It is through attention that I can see the magic and beauty of ordinary things. It doesn’t always have to be about the big, “wow” moments.

“Let’s take our hearts for a walk in the woods and listen to the magic whispers of old trees”-Unknown

6. Perfection is uninteresting and unattainable anyway… I seek authenticity in connection, not perfection. “I strive for imperfection” -Gay Kreager

7. Be fully present. "We only have this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand - and melting like a snowflake” - Sir Frances Bacon

8 . Keep it fresh. Listen to your voice, as it calls you to evolve. Currently loving: continuous line drawing practice and the wisdom of poet, Victoria Erikson.

My favorite book on creativity: Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert

My Influencers: (kind of in order of when I discovered them) Danny Gregory and everyone at Sketchbook Skool, Gay Kraeger, Cathy Johnson, Val Web, Jan Blencowe, Jane LaFazio, Leslie Fehling, John Muir Laws, everyone at Wild Wonder and the Nature Journal Club, Jean Mackay, Kristin Meuser, Julia Bausenhardt, S. Dion Baker, Jules Woolford and Bethan Burton, of course…and SOOOO many more!!!

Social media

Pinterest boards: Karen Colson — Sketchbooks!, Soul Food, How to: -watercolor tutorials

IG @karenjcolson – I don’t post, but I follow lots of inspirational creatives.

Facebook I post within a few FB groups - i.e. The Nature Journal Club, and private class groups.

Becoming a Nature Journaler

I came late to nature journaling, even though it may be in my DNA: one of my most treasured possessions is a watercolor my grandmother painted in February, 1914, of a crocus, accompanied by a quote from Victorian artist John Ruskin.

In 1977, “The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady,” by Edith Holden, was published, with her watercolor illustrations and commentary. Its gentle beauty captivated my imagination—I wished I could create something so beautiful— but I was on another path, a gardening path, and in 2004, published a book called “The Midwestern Cottage Garden.”

The 1914 crocus

But watercolors called to me, and I bought a small Winsor & Newton set of 14 colors, and tried to paint. They seemed difficult and unpredictable at first, but I was hooked. It was a big day when my order for a 48-color watercolor palette from The Rembrandt Watercolor company arrived from England. I was so excited!

I honestly don’t know how I found my way to John Laws’ book, “The Laws Guide to Drawing Birds.” Maybe it was because one of my first efforts at painting a bird resulted in a cardinal that looked a like a penguin! I needed help!

It was only one more step to nature journaling. I purchased a Pentalic Nature Sketch journal and jumped in. My first page was about the grackles in our back yard. It was so much fun there was no looking back.

There are many wonderful things about nature journaling. Maybe the best thing is that it gives you permission to immerse yourself in nature’s beauty for hours on end. I really was blind to our natural world before I began journaling. Now I see it, and value it.

Another joy of nature journaling is becoming part of the Nature Journal Club, a community on Facebook. Seeing the work of other nature journalers from all over the world is both inspiring and educational.

As I write this on a very cold day in February, I look over to my latest page in progress, which features two eastern gray squirrels and a fox squirrel peering down at me from a horse chestnut tree. So far, the squirrels are the most difficult subjects I have tackled—their expressions are subtle, and they have so much fur! And I am experimenting with colored pencils, which are new to me. Some challenges, but so much fun!

To anyone tempted to try nature journaling, I recommend that you jump in. Be prepared to learn, to try, and to sometimes fail. Your first cardinal might look like a penguin, as mine did, but you will improve, and know the joy of truly seeing nature’s beauty: It may change your life, as it did mine.

About the Author

I was born in Chicago, Illinois, and am a graduate of the University of Illinois. I worked for seventeen years at our local library. In 2004 I published a book called “Midwest Cottage Gardener,” all about gardening in Illinois. Currently, I have a blog called My Illinois Nature Journal,“ about Illinois natural history. I’m retired and spend many enjoyable hours nature journaling. My husband Jim and I (and our kitty Cocoa) live in Saint Charles, Illinois, which is 30 miles west of Chicago.

Nature journaling as a source of creativity

Hi, I’m Christiane Weismüller from Germany. I photograph, paint, draw and write to celebrate the beauty of nature.

For me nature journaling is not about your special skills in drawing, writing, naming, measureing or observing but about your creativity. It is about to respond to the special situation outdoors and then to choose, which of these elements would fit best and how.

You will see that each of my pages are different: Some contain biological information, others not, some contain a poem, some not, some are drawn more realistic and others even look more like a cartoon :)

I’d like to share with you some things about the “making of” of some pages and what I have learnt during these processes.

Don’t interfere with nature!

This was a very spontaneous page: I was so delighted about the rain, because it was a very dry spring since then! So I run out in our little garden and tried to draw something, apply some watercolor and then unexpectedly the raindrops painted with me :) At first I cried out: “Oh no, it ruined everything!” But then I thought, well, its raining on the page, too, it has to be like that!

So, don’t interfere with nature, but integrate what she offers you in your page and by the way it is wise to do this in your garden, too :)

Don’t struggle with time!

This post about the carpenter bee I drew during the last International Nature Journaling Week when the prompt was to draw insects.

As you see, I drew this amazing bee and its relatives in different ways even on one page - sometimes realistic, sometimes with biological information and sometimes more like a cartoon with a kind of speech. This was the result of the amazing speed with which this big bee moved over and into my poppies. I was very impressed by its helicopter-like movements and its really loud buzz :)

 So, when you have not much time for any reasons, try to capture the essential – anything is always better than nothing! Afterwards you can turn to the internet or a field guide as I did and try to add some more realistic features if you want to.

Don’t bother about reality!

This is a page I create from very different sources: my nature finds, my photography and even my memories. I love the sea but last year I couldn‘t spend time there, so I decided to draw something “marine” at least. I turned to my sea finds, old photographs and the impressions which are stored in my pictorial memory. Then there was space left in the “water part”. Such space is often good for some text element like naturalist notes, quotes or a little poem. I decided to choose a quote by the amazing Sylvia Earle, marine biologist and ocean protector. 

Text is a often neglected part in our nature journals. I turn to this topic by explaining my next page to you.

Don’t be afraid of poetry!

One of the specialties of this page is its little poem. A poem is a good way to capture something  you can’t draw for any reason or to express your emotional and associative reactions to any of your  observations. Oh, I know, you are maybe not a poet, but most of us nature journalers are neither artists nor biologists, aren’t we? So that’s no excuse ;)

For a start it is good to have a little structure to cling to. The Japanese haiku will give you all you need: three short lines with 5-7-5 syllables. Haikus are originally nature poems and arise from noticing special moments in nature. Does this ring a bell? Yes, you can apply John Muir Law’s prompts “I notice, I wonder, it reminds me of” directly to your haiku writing: Three prompts, three lines, it‘s so easy, you see :) So you are half on the way to poem writing! 

 My haiku was created by writing down an observation quickly, since the swans were barely visible:

 “A pair of swans leave only a contour in the snow-coloured sky.”

Then I wrote the first version without paying much attention to the correct number of the syllables, but rather to the overall impression:

“A white contour in the snowy sky - 

flapping wings in winter.”

And finally I went to the shortening and the number of syllables:

“Just a contour 

in the cloudy sky -

swans in winter.”

Note that this is only a translation of my German haiku which you can see on the picture, there the number of syllables are right.

Never mind, you don‘t have to bother too much about the 5-7-5 structure. Like all other elements of nature journaling poems and haikus are there to serve you and you don‘t have to serve them!

The important thing is the shortness and the haiku moment your poem expresses. Take a look at what I left out: “white”, “snow”, “wings”. Haikus and other short poems live from images and  associations, so you don’t have to tell the whole “story”. Have some room left for imagination! That’s a fundamental esthetic principle in most of Japanese art.

To sum up

Have fun and insights through drawing, writing, observing nature in whatever way you like!

I hope my different processes of nature journaling are an inspiration for your own.

Let your nature journal be a place to play with possibilities, associations and memories, let it be a source of creativity for you and your life!

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About the author

I am an artist, writer and adult educator. I am a passionate naturalist, so my art is always inspired by nature!

I create photographs, paintings and drawings. Due to my education as Master of Literature and Linguistics at Heinrich Heine University in Düsseldorf, Germany I enjoy working with text. Being outside, I like observing closely the changes of nature during the seasons. I look for possibilities to reconnect with nature to increase awareness and motivation to protect her. 

I regularly teach nature photography, nature painting and creative writing workshops and I want to organize nature journaling groups in the Rhine Main Area in Germany where I live.

Find more of Christiane’s work on her website weismueller-photography.com, view her nature journaling blog here  and join her on Instagram @christianeweismueller.nature or #nature_journaling_germany.

Your nature journal as a time capsule

Edith Holden’s Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady  is an iconic publication. Edith kept the diary for a year, in 1906, and with beautiful illustrations and writing recorded the countryside she found around her, both at home and on her travels. She included not only drawings and paintings, but also poetry, proverbs and sayings, and important dates and festivals, along with dated written entries describing the weather, her observations of the natural world, and background information about many of the plants, birds, insects and animals that she saw. 

Edith didn’t write the diary for publication; it remained in her husband’s family, and was eventually published in 1977, some 57 years after her death. I was a small child when the book was published, but I remember how popular it was – everyone seemed to have a copy! I loved looking at the pictures, and it no doubt inspired my early forays into drawing and into nature.

 So, when I found myself re-inspired by nature journalling some decades later, I bought a second-hand copy of the Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady and settled down for a read – and got a bit of a surprise! In one of the early entries, on January 18th, Edith describes ‘a curious oak tree, growing in a field near Elmdon Park’. Elmdon Park? That sounds familiar! I hadn’t realised that when she kept the diary, Edith had been living very close to where I grew up in Solihull and south Birmingham, UK. I read on, finding references to other familiar places – St Bernard’s Road, Widney Lane, Packwood Hall, Olton, Bentley Heath, Knowle, Baddesley Clinton, Catherine de Barnes, Bickenhill…

Often Edith describes (and paints) the plants she finds on her wanderings around Warwickshire, writing lists associated with places. It’s a fantastic snapshot of what was there. One observation really caught my eye: ‘Along a lane just above Balsall, I came suddenly upon a great flock of Meadow Brown butterflies. I had seen numbers of them all along the way, but here the air was thick with them flying hither and thither…’ (July 21st). I honestly cannot imagine finding Meadow Browns (or any other butterfly) in such huge numbers, in the Warwickshire countryside, today. It brings home what we have lost, what we never even knew.

The time-capsule quality of the Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady got me thinking about my own nature journalling. I live in a rural corner of Cambridgeshire, but the threat of development is ever present. There’s not much space in these small islands, and change will almost certainly come. A lot of my journalling is based on what I see and hear when I’m out walking or running, so is tied to a place and time, although I’m certainly not as thorough as Edith was in surveying, especially plants! But still, it’s a snapshot of an afternoon, or a trip out somewhere, and I try to be descriptive both in drawing and writing about what I’ve seen. Journalling about the everyday natural world, the things we see on our daily journeys, or even just looking out of the window, provides a rich – and highly personal – source of information, a window onto our particular world, that will surely fascinate in the years ahead.

Edith’s Warwickshire patch is still rural in nature, but things have, of course, changed immensely since 1906. Farming methods have changed. Roads have been built, lots of them. There’s now an international airport on her doorstep – the very first airplane ever flew in 1903, only three years before Edith kept her diary. There are some areas that she would still recognise, but the sheer amount of road-building and infrastructure has greatly altered the landscape. It’s hard to imagine how much has changed, how much has been lost, but Edith Holden’s Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady is a time-capsule – an eye-witness account of her everyday natural world.

And mine and yours can be too. In the shadow of the pandemic there is appetite for change in how we interact with nature, how we live our lives. Will it happen? Can we change our trajectory? Maybe in the decades to come our families will be able to look at the changing world we lived in, through the everyday observations in our journals – that alone makes it a meaningful and exciting project!

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About the Author

I live in a small village in Cambridgeshire, UK, happily surrounded by fields and nature. I especially enjoy drawing and sketching inspired by the natural world, and am looking forward to resuming leading nature journal sessions with my local Wildlife Trust.

Instagram: @sharoncambs 

Facebook: SharonsPics   

Blog: cambsnaturenotes.blogspot.com