I’m new to nature journaling, but nature is not new to me. My childhood was spent in semirural areas in Melbourne, Australia. I often walked to my first year of school on dirt roads, with a gaggle of other children. We looked for tadpoles in dams, hunted for mushrooms under pines and filled our pockets with tiny treasures.
Later, we moved to a large block filled with Australian natives, backing on to old apple orchards and natural bush. Hours were spent playing in the garden, watching birds and at night, hearing multitudes of frogs croak, whilst possums danced and thumped on the roof.
Now I live by the Yarra River in inner city Melbourne. There are large areas of native bush and a children’s farm just a short walk away. The river is an ever-changing source of wonderment to me. Slowly flowing one day with Dusky Moorhens and Pacific Black Ducks feeding. You might see Herons fishing from a rock and families of Black Swans in spring. Tiger snakes and Blue tongue lizards frequently cross the river path in summer, causing unwary walkers to squawk loudly. At the moment it is moving quickly, dark brown and flooding its banks over the paths. I belong to a volunteer group who remove environmental weeds from the river’s banks, replanting with indigenous grasses, shrubs and trees. We hammer stakes deeply, hoping the plants can hang on in the swirling waters.
I still fill my pockets with tiny treasures, fallen gumnuts and blossoms, empty Cicada shells and pretty pieces of fallen bark. I have an art class with adults with intellectual disabilities. At the start of this year, I introduced them to nature journaling. I brought in a box of leaves, seeds, flowers, cones and feathers. They selected what they wanted to draw and some went outside to choose their own finds. One student discovered that he could smear the yellow petals of flatweed flowers to colour his sketch of the flower. Nature journaling has become their favourite activity. We have had to postpone our art class, due to social distancing requirements. The students have been encouraged to keep going with their journals at home and we’ll share them when we are united again.
Inspired by the joy my students got from their journals, I started my own journal recently. In this strange time, it has become a refuge for me, I become completely absorbed in what I’m drawing. I think about the life cycles of flora and fauna and research what I’m drawing to learn more about it. My nature journal has become a place of peace for me.
Jennifer’s work can be found on her website winterowls.com and on Instagram @winter_owls.