Ambassadors of nature
Together we are strong.
To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men, — that is genius. Speak your latent conviction, and it shall be the universal sense; for the inmost in due time becomes the outmost.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (May 25, 1803–April 27, 1882)
Dearest readers, you are welcomed as always with warm thanks and gratitude, I am delighted you are here!
In my March edition of A Coloured Month published at the beginning of April, I had a little wobble, actually quite a big wobble! All flux and flow of my seasonal ramblings were caught up in a perhaps too impulsive response to a short paragraph of words that stalled my writing, filled me with self doubt and made me reflect deeply the point of continuing to write nature essays and journals. I felt confronted and derailed.
Of course, in hindsight - too often the best sight when one has been impulsive - the point was obvious; I am here because I enjoy writing, because I love the way words create a story each one of us would write differently were we to be given the same title. I love that we are each of us here to share our stories, poems, journals, whether they be true or fictitious, educational, scientific or comical.
The point is, we cannot learn enough, we cannot say enough.
My initial reason was to write of a wild, sometimes difficult, often chaotic and forever beautiful life here on a wild hill in France resembling a light hearted journal in the hope it would make people smile. Over the months since my first tentative steps publishing these journals - with trembling hands as I hit send - I have found that my obsession for the wilderness of nature that surrounds me speaks loudly in the words I write, embodying, more often than not, an endless passion for the natural happenings entwined within the days of my life, its beguiling and yet calmative, often healing presence. To write in the firm belief of the undeniable truth of this
To my absolute shock delight I have been encouraged to continue…
I have read thousands of your words, hundreds of essays, stories and letters all with varying and intriguing subjects. The standard of writing in every case has been/is overwhelming - I still question my own place here - but, petit à petit, I have found a community of people within which exists a warm camaraderie exceeding every expectation. And, get this, here on Substack there are many more extraordinary communities of brilliant people who shine with inspiration and encouragement, many of whom write with a similar trepidation each time they hit publish as I do!
Writing is a solitary practice, but it doesn’t have to be lonely - Julie Gabrielli
Before I begin further persuasions to join me and every other writer nip over to Julie Gabrielli writing Building Hope who sent out this post just last week. Julie wrote with exceptional elegance on a similar subject. Please do take a few minutes to read Finding our Niche, there is an invitation for you. She says;
In this spirit of community, I’ve been envisioning a nature-writing neighborhood.6The plan is to refocus my newsletter to offer nature writers a place to recharge, share, and discover each other.
So, without further ado, this letter is for every person who has doubted they have anything important to say. Wherever your interests lie, there is a place for you here.
(scroll to the bottom of the page for a link to directories)
Dear nature lovers, writers and caretakers of the wild…
Firstly, for those of you who are new here or have missed the details along the way, let me tell you very quickly about me. My name is Susie, she/her. I am a haphazard gardener, a maintenance person, a shepherd to my small flock of sheep, now replaced after the massacre of four months ago. I am a teacher of children with learning difficulties for four days a week, I am a mother, a wife, a friend, a sister, an aunt. I am admittedly not the greatest at all these titles but I do my absolute best. Somehow, in between all the necessary and time consuming jobs, I walk endlessly, take blurry photographs of everything that catches my eye and write about it. I am never ever bored and I have never known wealth in monetary terms. I consider every second of my life to be a precious gift never to be taken for granted.
Why am I telling you this?
Because life is precious, nature is precious and is part of all our lives. Writing about it is not limited to any group of individuals, it is vast and beautiful and open to every person alive on this planet, regardless of job, title, financial status, gender or age. Words can be written from mountains or forests or oceans, a field or a postage stamp sized back garden. The path is so simple to navigate; Mary Oliver, who always had the right words, told us this…
agrees and as do many others…“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
Whatever obstacles you might think you see, feel or hear, they are imaginary! You don’t have to be a literary genius either, just open your eyes and write about whatever holds you spellbound to everyone and anyone; share your story, share your knowledge be it deeply scientific, poetic or simply the recounting of how a single leaf falls from a tree. Every word counts in this world that falls apart under our eyes daily, nature in all its beauty, in all its changing seasons, will survive far longer than we will but at what cost if we are ignorant of how it became what it is, or indeed how it may evolve in years to come. The importance of passing on the knowledge we have gathered in this modern day, stagnant society of high-tech gadgets and nonchalant attitude, is more important than ever.
I am not the only person to think so either…
In 2015, the Oxford children’s dictionary deleted approximately fifty nature related words in favour of more modern terms and expressions like download, broadband, cut and paste, this caused an outrage from many prominent writers at the time and an open letter was composed in protest. However only some of the words were replaced; dandelion, otter, acorn, blackberry, adder, are a few but though many environmentalists argued their importance words like ash, beech, fern, willow and hazel were still omitted. Robert Macfarlane, one of the worlds greatest living nature writers along with Jackie Morris, a writer and illustrator of children’s story books, were so troubled by the loss of these words they published a book called The Lost Words. It was aimed at children aged 3 to 103, the idea being to conjure, with spells, the magic back into these lost words for future generations.
The book begins with…
Once upon a time, words began to vanish from the language of children. They disappeared so quietly that at first almost no one noticed — fading away like water on stone. The words were those that children used to name the natural world around them: acorn, adder, bluebell, bramble, conker — gone! Fern, heather, kingfisher, otter, raven, willow, wren… all of them gone! The words were becoming lost: no longer vivid in children’s voices, no longer alive in their stories.
There a hundreds and hundreds of nature writers worldwide, Some, the majority probably, like me are unknown but to a few lovely subscribers here - THANK YOU - they/you are simply exercising a deep need to share all you know with anyone that will listen and pass hope to those whose lives are bound by concrete cities of high-rise, dusty buildings, wrapped up in highways and motorways and war with little or no access to fresh air, very little that is natural. We are doing out best to share the only constant in our lives because we feel it is our responsibility to do so for those less fortunate? We are neither famous and for the most part, I suspect, not wealthy either. We don’t have the back up of a publicity team, or editors or launch parties, we just write and hope that someone will enjoy our words enough to recall the details and, because of them be inspired to venture outside, discover for themselves the myriad secrets planet earth and all it holds. Maybe, hopefully, even teach them to their children, their children’s children.
Jonathan Franzen wrote :
We can’t make a reader care about nature. All we can do is tell stories of people who do care, and hope that the caring is contagious.
True words which apply to other subject matter also.
Rachel Carson, renowned nature writer, environmentalist and marine conservationist wrote :
…It is impossible to understand man without understanding his environment and the forces that have molded him physically and mentally.
Words indicative of the necessity for us to continue in that understanding because environments change, we change, the world is still evolving, much of what we knew as child has disappeared already. We are disciples to that change, no matter how lowly or humble.
The Desiderata comes to mind;
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
We, the quiet lovers of nature and all she holds, who feel a vital responsibility to continue… must.
In a time when nature words are being dropped from dictionaries and the loss of habitat and species is exponentially greater than ever, nature writers are the most important and needed ambassadors of our time.
The act of nature writing is without doubt a visceral reaction to visible and invisible benefits offered when we pay attention, it transcends intellect to become a rhythm necessary to a life that has quality, is healthy, gentle, quiet. It is not governed by either capitalist or corporate behaviours and therefore above all else, honest, it costs us nothing but pays back infinitely.
In reply to my wayward missive back in April from
came this;“I read it for the companionship of a writer that behaves in a way I behave, because I too spend time in nature, contemplating and being.”
The journey I have made over the last year and four months has been one I could neither have planned or imagined. I am touched daily by the support and encouragement given by writers no matter their preferred subject. I have inevitably encountered diversifications - I am a Gemini I expected to be sidetracked occasionally - I have dabbled in other subjects, but always, I am pulled back again into the intricate curiosities of nature. And, yes, in common with every other human being who picks up a pen to write, there are days when, for whatever reason, inky words do not flow, a white page stares blankly back at me. Inspiration wanders off to places unknown leaving doubt in its wake but always, waiting in a quiet unsuspecting corner, there is a pool of light, a blackbird singing in the dead of night1, with that gentle nudge needed to make ink and pen flow on paper in symbiotic embrace once more.
So you see, your confidence may wain, as mine does, your desire tainted by doubt, as mine can be too but our quest is strong, it costs nothing to encourage others to profit from natures infinite capacity to calm and heal and enchant be it a five second video of the sheer beauty of the delicate wings of a damsel fly, a Haiku even!
in lines of willow // palest silver leaves, trailing // a whispering breeze….
or a transformative novel reminding of us of the need to connect to the wilderness such as Robert Macfarlane’s The Wild Places to name but one.
So to all of you who have got this far - it is so much longer than I intended - I will just add this, believe in you, believe in what you have to say, pass on every word, no matter how small or seemingly irrelevant, speak clearly, tell of the affinity you have gained in your wild place, your appreciation and understanding, no matter that it is just one tree in a city or a thousand acres of trees in a forest.
Your words count, let’s build this community as big as we can!
There are several directories popping up on at the moment but to make the search less laborious , who I mentioned earlier this year, has been absolutely amazing in putting unimaginable hours into expanding and categorising not only her own Nature Directory but in a recent post has added many others also. You can find them all by tapping below;
Special ‘Sixtieth Year’ Offer - Reminder. I have set payed subscriptions to the lowest possible rate allowed by Substack if you subscribe or upgrade to a paid subscription during my sixtieth year this rate will remain set for as long as you wish to continue to pay. Whether you decide to pay or not - Thank you so much for being here.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night was a song sung by the Beatles, written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney - another song I know by heart since a young age, from The White Album.
“Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of a dark black night
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of a dark black night
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise”
Literally right at eye-level sits Lost Words, and I cherish and honor every endeavor big or small a human makes to reclaim, restore, and realign our minds and hearts with the natural world. Your inspired (and I mean that in the truest sense of the word) prose is leading the way for many others to bow down to simplicity and beauty and the ever-wonderfilled seasons of this great earth.
First, thank you so much for the mention Susie, I am so honoured. Not only because it comes from you but also because of the nature of this piece.
Because I am also a far from wealthy writer with no one but Substackers to count as readers. I also recently embarked on expressing my thoughts here. But also because I so agree with your sentiment that finding community and paying attention and sharing kindness and describing this fleeting moment of consciousness, all create such value, real human, deep, uncountable value, the kind of value that no one regrets on deathbeds.
I’m so grateful to have found such beauty and thoughtfulness and honesty in so many writers (including you of course) which has given me such confidence, not only in prose but also in general. It’s a privilege to dare to be part of this democratisation of writing here. And it’s a privilege to find myself tumbling along in this avalanche of ideas and stories and experiences. It’s enriching and inspiring for sure.
So thanks again.