Nature Journalism - Little Details
“It is the realization beauty is more than meets the eye, that it comes from knowledge and awareness, with time enough to look and enjoy”
My day began on the porch of my father’s office. As I sat there, shivering in a blanket with a cup of tea in hand, I realized for the first time how foreign a sound I had known my entire life, rainfall, could be. In the darkness that enveloped the world around me, every tree, bush, and shrub had been transformed into a jagged, unfamiliar ghost of its being. The field with the aged veranda, so frequently hidden underneath the winter frost, was now completely indistinguishable and appeared to me like a sea of black. I don’t tend to think much about what the world around me is like in the early hours of a winter morning. Mid-January in the Pacific Northwest brings with it nasty bouts of seasonal depression, weeks of rain, and dark days without a hint of the sun. The latter feels even more prominent now that the entire world feels as if it has paused. Although I do acknowledge the importance of the rain to the wellbeing of my environment, I often find its constant presence to be somewhat of a nuisance. Experiencing that same rain at 6:00 am made me feel like I had missed something for the past 22 years of my life. In his book, Reflections from the North Country, Sigurd F. Olson discusses the necessity of awareness for one to fully appreciate the world in which they live. He writes that “this sense of awareness and wonder we find in children; teenagers soon lose it, and adults become blasé. It is something that can be developed over the years and lost swiftly through the commonplace” (68). It wasn’t until I spent my morning outside that I truly understood what he meant. I became more aware of the environment around me by removing myself from what I had come to expect (and ultimately dislike) and by experiencing it in an incredibly different way.
In the future, I hope to take Olson’s advice and not only become more aware of the world around me but also appreciate it. I stayed outside long enough to watch the sky change its color: from a starless black to something reminiscent of a royal blue. The rain continued to fall; though as the sun began to make its appearance, it faded into a light shower and then a drizzle. My nature spot, as I knew it, came into view once again only this time, I knew how different it could look. While I’m no early riser, I hope to spend more mornings just like this one on my little porch in the rain.