Once upon a time, I stumbled onto Instagram because I thought I should probably get with the program and get on there. My first post was about food (of course), because I thought that’s what people put on there (I wasn’t toooo off).
But one of the reasons I’ve stayed on Instagram, even though social media isn’t my fave, and I don’t post a ton, is because I found so many cool ideas. Not for recipes… for enjoying nature!
I grew up an indoorsy-girl, through and through. A book, a comfy chair, and I’m 100% in my happy place. My parents had to force… er, encourage… me to go outside. And usually what I did once forced was either bring a book, or walk to the library and haul home a tote-full of new books.
It wasn’t until I met my now-husband that I saw what an incredible world I was missing out on. He took me on hikes, cave diving, fishing, four-wheeling (ATVing for those of you in other parts of the states), camping, and even brought me along bow-hunting elk. To see a bull elk charge in just twenty yards away, its breath propelling like fog from its open mouth, a great cry sounding out across the mountains; to see the stars in such abundance, twinkling amidst the tops of swaying and creaking ebony pine trees; to watch the sun rise across a bare prairie, shooting flames of gold, tangerine, and salmon toward the receding darkness.
It was a completely new world, engaged in experiencing the seasons fully, and enjoying what they have to offer.
But I also was highly unprepared.
Our first trip together hunting, I brought a pair of WalMart hiking boots. When it got around freezing, my little toes felt ready to fall off. I remember looking up at him and stating bluntly, “I’m miserable.” I had a winter jacket that was better suited for spring and fall in the area we lived in, only athletic-style socks, and mittens that the wind pierced through. But I learned a lot alongside my outdoorsy-husband, and grew to enjoy going with him on his adventures.
After having our son, I realized how much I needed to get outside. For my own sanity. The walls of our home felt confining, and there were many times I just wanted to escape. I had no idea that my body was craving being outside, until one incredibly windy and snowy day, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I bundled my 1 year old up, strapped him to myself in the baby carrier, and went for a walk. It was below freezing, and we only made it around the block… but I came back feeling somewhat refreshed.
For the next several years, I slowly immersed myself in a world of moms-determind-to-get-outside-and-get-kids-outside. I found things like the 1000 Hours Outside movement, and Rain or Shine Momma. I borrowed books from the library on enjoying being outdoors with children, and asked friends and family with more experience and wisdom. We started pursuing time outside with the kids, and reaped the benefits for our family.
But I still felt something was missing…. I loved our walks, and the time outside. But I felt like I was brimming with wanting-to-know. What’s this flower? What’s that noise I hear? How does the bee survive through springtime? What plants could I grow in my garden that would overwinter? What tree is that? Why does the wind blow? What do you call that cloud? So. Many. Questions. And I felt that even though I was observing and learning, I wasn’t remembering or retaining or (most importantly) interacting with my new knowledge and observations. I wanted to do something more, I just didn’t know what.
So imagine my delight when I log into Instagram, get this little idea to see if #1000hoursoutside has anything to see, and find this world of cool, fun, exciting, seasonal, kid-friendly, educational, fulfilling ways that people enjoy being outside. And one of those is: nature journaling.
Nature journaling is the mash-up of whatever you want it to be in your outdoor adventures. Here’s the gist of how it works: 1) you go outside, 2) you write or draw or whatever you want in a journal about it. That’s literally it. Which means there are sooo many ways that people nature journal! It’s a completely individual project – one that reflects your personality, your season, your local area. Which means there is no right or wrong way to do it.
Do a quick search online and you’ll find a myriad of ways that people like to nature journal. I’ll share here what’s working for me so far, and I’m sure I’ll update along the way.
I like to use a mixed medium spiral bound notebook, so I can lay it flat in my lap or at the table (I tend to journal after we get back home, because wrangling the 1 year old and journaling feels impossible right now… but I’m open to trying other options when I learn them). I like using watercolor pencils with a watercolor brush, and then sometimes following up with pen outlining (basic pen – nothing fancy here). But that’s honestly not even the most important part – the drawing just allows my mind to free-flow so I can get out my tangled thoughts of what I want to know.
The best part is the understanding I develop, and the connections I make. Take this journal entry of the poinsettia:
I started basic research on the poinsettia and found out about its natural habitat. But then I also discovered some history. And a legend. And a poem. And those things led to more questions, which I may never investigate, but my creative process is there and allowing the inner scientist to let loose. Scientist + historian + literacy lover + artist = engaged with my observations.
So this is just a basic start in my own experience. I highly recommend checking out John Muir Laws for more info on nature journaling, and honestly, just jumping in. Let it be messy and ugly. Here are some of my original nature journal entries:
Ick, right? But we all have to start somewhere. And I wanted my kids to see my imperfection and know it was ok. That’s how we grow. Start somewhere, let it be icky, and slowly move toward the direction of what you’re wanting this to be / how you express yourself.
Happy nature journaling!
A Little Golden Thread 