Tag: nature

  • Inside Out

    Each session began with a Bimble – a short, slow walk in which we walk, talk, stop and start but we don’t go far. We tasted the flavours of the season, and noticed the berries, the nuts, the birds and the mammals that might provide our Pine Martens with their feast … drawing connections between species introduced, departed and returning, and the role of Pine Martens in balancing the ecosystem. We remembered the landscape in our earlier lives, imagined it in the deep past and dreamed of how we’d like to see it in the future. Just as Pine Martens are solitary, playful creatures, we took a moment of solitude to play – to close our eyes and listen, and with willow charcoal on natural-dyed fabric, to make marks that echoed the sounds we heard.

    In the second part of the session, we returned to base to assemble
    fragments of our experience into ephemeral, whimsical textile pieces.
    We encapsulated thoughts that had emerged during our walk into phrases
    on the typewriter and scribbled notes and quotes onto paper scraps. And, with our sound drawings, fabric scraps and a spirit of creative play, we took to the hand cranked sewing machines. For some, the sewing machines and typewriters were an absolute first; for others, long dormant knowledge surfaced as the machines rattled across the fabric.

    Holding workshops for adults on a weekday aimed to support attendance for people who can’t easily make it out into the moors, for example with mobility or other health issues. This was definitely apparent with participants in Bovey Tracy and, to an extent, in the afternoon session in Minehead. However, it can take time for this demographic to build the confidence to attend such a workshop. All participants travelled from outside the host community (Exeter, Taunton, Tiverton, for example) to attend the event.

    This project prompted reflection on who classifies as ‘new to nature’. Those who joined the events arrived with an existing appreciation for nature, but at best had a flimsy sense of what a pine marten is and knew nothing about their habits. They were thirsty for information about Pine Martens and broader themes affecting our landscape, and appreciative to join like minded people without an expectation or assumption of deeper expertise.

    What did participants say?

    Both oral and written feedback from the sessions were universally positive, drawing attention to three key themes:

    Many thanks to Devon Wildlife Trust and in particular the Pine Martens Bounce Back team for the opportunity, support and expertise, and Libraries Unlimited for their support.

  • Flint, Sedge, Bindweed, Grass

    One Saturday a few weeks back, I walked from the centre of Chichester to West Wittering Beach, along a canal tow path and the Salterns Way.  Alone and in control of my own pace, I found myself documenting my journey as I walked, through voice recordings and ‘Doodles’ that evolved as the day unfolded.

    This is a narrative – primarily a transcription – of that very special day.

    It felt apt to be using grass, walking along by field after field, agriculture all tired at this time of year.  But also, paths splitting field from hedgerow. 

    Continuous nibbling of Haws. 

    Already the sense of accomplishment that I will complete this journey.

    The last, flat lands through the village towards the beach.  Everything here is manicured and curated:  Perfect lawns,  draping Willows.  Walnut trees.  Not a blade of grass out of place beneath them.  It’s a strange world, balancing artifice and nature.

    But at last, I’m here.  Sand and dunes, sand and dunes.  And the sun came out.

    Flint

    And here again – it’s flint, amidst the sand.  Flint!

    I came from flint; finished with flint.  I think I’ll never look at flint in the same way again. 

    I wrapped my Doodles onto a piece of wood on the beach, completing the journey.  A kind of relief to let go of these things that I’d been carrying all the way. 

    And now I drift my way along the beach to the very end, and round. 

    Scallop shells. 
    And the flattest sea with the deepest, deep reflections.  Clouds mirrored far beneath the surface. 
    Sanderlings, or Dunlins – I had to look them up.
    Hag stones.  I added one, and a whelk, to the top of my Doodle. 

    And now, my walking is sooo slow.

    Ah, it’s so beautiful.