Taking a walk, just to see what I can see...
Time to get personal
Dear flower friend,
Hey, how are you today? What have you seen recently that’s made you think? Walking the Tip Path lately it strikes me how mostly the flowers in the hedgerows right now are white - bindweed, white clover, white campion, hogweed, meadowsweet, yarrow. The bramble blossom adds a touch of pink. My rewilded garden is colourful - full of poppies, catsear and borage, buzzing with bees, but the wayside is white. It’s fascinating! Noticing the little things, registering the changes, day by day, it connects me, makes me feel part of this living green environment.
As I walk I often think about what I’m going to write and as we’ve known each other a little while, I’m going to share some backstory. Not to get too personal but as a massive INFP, sometimes when I start it’s hard to stop and kinda exhausts me. So I’ll start small. So - who am I - and who are you?! I’m sure we both wear all sorts of hats. Mine include mother, wife, daughter. Sister, friend, cousin. Artist. Nature lover. Believer. European. Introvert.
I’m a mother of twins. 14. Do you remember 14? Watching them living through this age has brought it back to me. At 14 my life changed and I abruptly left my natural habitat. So I’ve been thinking, not about things I’d forgotten but things I’d chosen not to remember. Somehow, remarkably, I have found that remembering is a good thing. Accepting and facing facts and truths about how life experiences have shaped me has made me realise that facing up to things means releasing them, getting over them, letting go.
I grew up in a tiny little village in North Yorkshire. It wasn’t the smallest village but almost, there were only 15 houses and farms, some half a mile away from their nearest neighbour. Nevertheless it was a village and we had a community, we had a church, and every year we all got together for a bonfire on 5th November. Up at the top of the village in one of the gardens was a Ting Stone, marking the ancient local gathering place of the Viking Ting - the earliest system of justice and administration in the Viking Age. Our village was five miles from Whitby, in a beautiful part of the country, throbbing with history and nature. It was a wonderful place to grow up, but when I hit 14 I decided that as soon as I could, I would leave Whitby, forever. Which is exactly what happened, and now I look back with mixed emotions: nostalgia, a hint of sadness and regret, a ton of gratitude that I got to grow up somewhere so amazing.
How is this relevant? Well, I grew up in the 1970s and 80s, and my parents decided to raise us without a TV in the house. Others considered us deprived, but that’s nonsense - it was probably one of the best decisions they made, forcing my brother and I to grow up in nature, in books, with boredom, with creativity.
As a child I lived in the rambling fields and woods, walking the monk trods winding down through the lanes and bridlepaths to the river. It’s hard to describe the riches of nature surrounding us. The wild coast lines, disused railway lines waiting to be explored, trees dipping their leaves into the River Esk, knowing where the badger setts were in the woods at the end of the field at the bottom of the garden…
So at 14, life changed and with it, the faucet was closed. I finally left Yorkshire at 18 and moved as far west as possible, running away from Whitby, and the fields and woods I knew and loved. I knew in my bones how much I missed it - that proximity to nature - but I didn’t understand how to reconnect, how to regain that sense of magic and wonder. It felt like something to put to bed, along with the rest of my childhood. Getting back into nature was like dipping my toe into the river, sometimes I got to have a little paddle, but what I wanted to do was swim, and I thought the only way I could do that was to go back, and I couldn’t go back, so I gave it up. And then, in 2020, exploring the outdoors in the allocated hour we were allowed out during lockdown, a gradual reconnection began, dendrites were picking up new signals, my brain chemistry was starting to change. When I talk about the pleasure of reconnection, it comes after so many years of disconnect, I can’t even begin to describe. But the awe and wonder are still there. Nature is magic.
The Esk Valley was a wonderful playground. But walking the Tip Path through the fields three times a week also delivers a nourishing dose of nature. Today was sunny but the temperature had dropped a little and the cool breeze was welcome. I often carry a pair of Pentax Papilio - close focus binoculars which allow me to almost get inside the plants and flowers - amazing - try them! Today though, I opted for regular bins. I’m glad I did - when I hear the liquid notes of birdsong close by I love to see if I can find the performer. Today, it was a wren, tiny and hard to spot, so the satisfaction of finding him hidden in that hawthorn tree, beady little eye looking straight at me, was immense. He took off and flew to the next tree - I could hear his friend singing close by, so I know he was heading for company but it felt like he was following me, moving from tree to shrub to hedge along the path I walked down. Beautiful. It reminded me of my Grandma, whose letters were always full of little everyday details - who she had spotted in her beloved garden, how the robin was faring, what shoots and leaves she was seeing around her. She found joy - and a connection to nature - in the everyday.
And it turns out, that’s what I needed to do. Stop worrying about the past and live in the present. Find a tree to watch and follow the changing seasons. Listen to the birds singing, watch bees buzzing in the flowers. Watch nature programmes, read wonderful books, learn how to make paper flowers*!
Wherever you are I hope you are finding joy in the everyday and listening to the sounds of nature. Thanks for reading.
With love, as always, Ling
PS Shout out to Bryan Pfeiffer of Chasing Nature (a wonderful read here on Substack). Thank you for your kind words and comments ((((and hello to any new readers who are here because of this!))))
*Making paper flowers is a truly mindful pastime. It’s hard to think about anything else when you are concentrating on creating a beautiful, realistic flower using scraps of paper, wire and glue. Join me to learn how to create your own flowers. Forthcoming workshops include Blue Flag Iris and Poppies & Cornflowers. But hurry, they are happening next week and the discount expires on Saturday 30th June!
What a lovely essay and the perfect reminder, to enjoy these small present moments. I’m so glad I’ve discovered your work!