Nature journalling matters. Painting landscapes and wildlife with words and illustrations allows readers to see the dancing sunlight on a forest floor, to breathe in the scent of earth after rain, to feel the stillness of a morning when jewels hang from spider webs. Nature journalling is a critical artform that connects people to the natural world and raises awareness of environmental issues. In illustrating the magnificence woven in the fragility of the environment, readers often feel moved to look after our precious planet. Beyond the purposeful prose and detailed observation, it is also an opportunity for creative mindfulness. Nature writers observe the natural world with deep introspection, and in doing so may experience their stress dissipating with a southerly breeze and their pulse slowing to the melodious song of a magpie and zebra finch.
Wattle Whispers
Wattle, when the westerly lashes
Will you whisper
Will we listen
If you whisper and we listen
Will we change
Deafening silence slices hot summer nights
Golden flowers dusting blood-red sand
Twisted fingers reach over ridges
Listen
To the wattle's whispers
Wattle, when the westerly lashes
Will you whisper
Will we listen
If you whisper and we listen
Will we change
Deafening silence slices hot summer nights
Golden flowers dusting blood-red sand
Twisted fingers reach over ridges
Listen
To the wattle's whispers
Wagtail Dancer
Whirring wagtail, pacing, twirling
Shadow and light seamstress
Flicker here and flicker there
Fantail fanfare blurring the air
Come dance with me a while
Wagtail whirling, spinning, twirling
Seamstress of shadow and light
Com dance with me a while
Whirring wagtail, pacing, twirling
Shadow and light seamstress
Flicker here and flicker there
Fantail fanfare blurring the air
Come dance with me a while
Wagtail whirling, spinning, twirling
Seamstress of shadow and light
Com dance with me a while
Home
I live among mulga
I have grew from rock crevice
I emerge from ridges older than human story
Where red sand stains jeans
and tan lines on necklines are badges of identity
Wilyakali Kirra
Wilyakali Country
Place of the rocky hills
Ink spills from my heart and out my hands
Here in the land I call home
I live among mulga
I have grew from rock crevice
I emerge from ridges older than human story
Where red sand stains jeans
and tan lines on necklines are badges of identity
Wilyakali Kirra
Wilyakali Country
Place of the rocky hills
Ink spills from my heart and out my hands
Here in the land I call home
Belonging
Sand crunches underfoot
Yearning for belonging
Jumbled turning tumbling searching
Feet search for solid ground
I wake up but I am dreaming
The clouds are all that are moving
Eucalyptus leaves silhouette against blue sky
Another day searching
Adrift on a stagnant breeze
Sand crunches underfoot
Yearning for belonging
Jumbled turning tumbling searching
Feet search for solid ground
I wake up but I am dreaming
The clouds are all that are moving
Eucalyptus leaves silhouette against blue sky
Another day searching
Adrift on a stagnant breeze