Turkey Tracks: June 25, 2021
Nature Journal From 2005
My husband and I began our Maine adventure in June of 2004.
In January 2005 I took a local class that involved keeping a daily “artists” nature journal for 2005.
I was by no means a drawing or painting artist by the stretching of anyone’s imagination. But it didn’t matter. I did what I could, and over the year I did get better at these new skills. Along the way I learned an awful lot about the new region where I now lived. And each day, as I searched for ways to think more deeply about what I was seeing, thinking, and feeling—as seen by some of the inscriptions I used—I settled deeply into Maine and into the peaceful, quieter life that I so treasure now.
And that journal, which I did faithfully keep, making up for lost days when I had to, is one of the joys of my life. It reminds me daily about slowing down to “see” where I live, to see what is changing around me, and to acknowledge what I love about that experience.
The year’s journal worked out to occupy two sketchbooks, and the first book ends at the June 21st solstice—a reminder that now, with the beginning of the second book, the days will begin to get shorter as the seasonal wheel slowly turns. The closing of the first book, with its winter days and the coming of spring and the promise of all that spring brings, always makes me a bit sad, for time does seem to move so quickly.
Since 2006, or for the past 15 years, my journal sits open on the counter above my washer and dryer. And as I turn the pages to follow the days it has captured, I am reminded of all the flora and fauna that appear or disappear as the days of the year pass. I am reminded of the joy I had with learning so many new skills and having so many new experiences. And I am reminded that I need to take time, every day, to let the “new” into my life.