Make room for nature!
This is a cry from The Wildlife Trusts, urging us to remember nature and pay attention to it during our everyday life. Nature isn’t something to be enjoyed during our time off and lose sight of when we fall back into our daily routine. It is a home that needs to be nurtured and taken care of constantly. But this, is too easy to forget.
So this month, I, and hundreds of people across the British isles have pledged to be a little more wild. Here is what I chose to do during the second week. Catch up with week 01 here. For daily update, follow me on Instagram or Twitter.
I am fascinated by rivers. I love to sit by one, watch the water slowly move and the wildlife make their home or visit its banks. The past few years, I have been lucky to live near rivers and make them part of my commute. So each day, I salute one. But not like a friend because rivers are dangerous. I fear water more than I fear anything else in the outdoors. Instead, I salute them like the ancient Greeks would have a goddess, with respect and a distance that can never be breached. The Avon New Cut (which is my current bit of river) is tidal, and one day, I will take the time to sit all day, watch it rise and fall to the whims of the sea.
I was in a rush that day. There had been work all day, and then I needed to pop into the library before heading to a Women and Bicycle meeting. But always when I’m going too fast, nature reminds me that I need to slow down. Like this patch of wild flowers left by Bristol Cathedral. The grass has been cut short apart from one little strip. Bursting with summer colours, I could do nothing but stop. So I did. I sat down next to it for a moment and reminded myself that no life depended on me being exactly on time for my evening schedule.
Having been reminded to slow down, I did just that on my commute the following day. I was happily cycling along when I spotted a red dot among the grey of metal posts and green of leaves. I pulled the brakes, got off the bike, and for a moment observed this ladybird. She just hanged there as the breeze moved the twig she was resting on (I can only ever think of ladybird as female for some reason). And for the rest of the day, I kept thinking about this insect. A reminder that once, I, too, had nothing better to do than lie in the grass and let time wash over me. A lesson I vowed not to forget and yet one that I keep having to be reminded about.
I didn’t have to go to work that day. So instead I lazed in bed, listening to the radio before eventually making my way in the garden where the bike awaited me for a good clean. I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings until I finally took the bike for a ride. I didn’t go far, just my local nature reserve. The nesting robins were quiet and I wondered if I would ever hear them again. The coppiced area I had helped create was almost completely closed off by growing vegetation. Teenagers were lying in the grass silent as I passed by. A few dogs ran past, their tongue flying by the side of their mouth. And birds sang in the evening coolness. Everything was as it should be.
The plan was simple: grab my bike, grab a friend, go to Abergavenny. So I did. Speed was not an essential. What mattered was to be on the bike, to be outside surrounded by nature, and to be furthered acquainted with my local area. We stopped to greet donkeys, horses, pigs, and alpacas. We watched birds dart in and out of edges, none in the mood to race that day. I saw swallows dancing in the sky and almost cried out of joy. Birds that had accompanied me on my journey in the Iberian Peninsula, providing me with endless shows, had been strangely absent of my landscape this year. I had missed them. We pulled the brakes on top of a climbed and observed the Sugar Loaf and Skirrid Fawr, peaks I am begin to recognise from my walk around Wales. And eventually we arrived in Abergavenny, my local area a little more named, a little more mine.
How often do you stop in a park between work and home? If you’ve never done it, you should try it this month. It doesn’t have to be for long but before you get in your car/bus/bike/shoes/etc., try unwinding in a green space. Don’t get hold of your phone, simply watch the world go by and let work wash away from you. I promise you’ll feel better for trying it.
The sun has finally arrived this week and so I got the longboard out once more. I love how it slows me down even more than cycling. I glide across the pavement and the landscape pass me by but it’s never a blur. Instead I see the white clover in the grass, the overhanging branch and the details of its bark narrowly avoiding my face, the sprout of grass in a concrete crack. It’s definitely a good way to get to work.