nature journals

when i was little we had a book about fairies. it wasn't a 'story book'... it was a british book written by adults who truly believed in the existence of fairies. there were magical, old, black and white pictures of 'fairy sightings' and explanations of how they lived and how to go about finding them. i was mesmerized by the thought that while i slept delicate little creatures danced in a mushroom circle in the moonlight. we had woods behind my house and i remember walking those woods with my eyes glued to the ground desperately willing them to see the remnants of a fairy party.

there is magic in the noticing. when we stop rushing to our next thing and we actually look down at what moments before we were trampling, we see the beauty that lies in the ordinary... the things you don't see until you decide to.

the nature journals are one way to bring our eyes down and let them rest.
rest on the moss that years ago was a fairy carpet,
the mushrooms that make the most perfect little seats,
and the dandelions that twist together to ring a dancing circle at the fairy ball that i was sure i would stumble upon if i kept looking.

i think children are born with that zeal for the noticing. they will stop and examine random pebbles in their paths as if this was the first and last pebble they may ever see. they can be awed by a puddle and fascinated by an ant. unfortunately this is a delicate gift... it needs time and space to grow. it dies to words of 'hurry up!'. it blurs in the frantic movement of a a video screen. it crumbles under the pressure of 'schedules'.

it is forgotten as our years become more numerous than our days.

we did our nature journals to remember.

there is magic in the noticing.