I had planned a trip to what is known as a Fairy Woodland about an hour away from me and Wednesday was the only day which wasn’t forecast raining. Trip planned , camera packed and ready for the morning. Then the morning came. Hello Mr Melancholy , it began with a bad nights sleep and the fogginess of my mind takes all clarity away, my whole being feels like it belongs to someone else. within you which hates you. Sounds like an episode of the “Strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde “.

My antidote after a lot of mindfulness lessons and meditation is the awareness of its arrival and creating space for myself to be with it. Since I have begun mindfulness and meditation it has lessened the times I encounter it and its potency. The amount of malice which pours out of myself towards my myself is disabling. Now I know it isn’t me and just something passing through me it is easier not to label myself and allow it to be. Being able to notice is helpful , I will stay at home and away from people , I won’t paint or photograph and I won’t write as I will destroy everything.

I liken it to Poe’s poem “Raven” the tapping on his chamber door, but without the lament of missing a loved one. I have stopped trying to find meaning in it but just accept it , let it be siting quietly until it passes. It is surprising how medicinal sitting quietly is.

Looking at the weather report there maybe days next week for my visit so nothing lost. I can add instead the “honourable harvest” as taken from Robin Wall Kimmerer amazing book “Braiding Sweetgrass” as I feel it is an important for us to reclaim our place on this earth as its guardian.

Honourable Harvest.

Know the ways of the one who takes care of you so you may take care of them.

Introduce yourself , Be accountable as the one who comes asking for life.

Ask permission before taking. Abide by the answer

Never take the first, never take the last.

Take only what you need

Take only that which is given.

Never take more than half, leave some for others

Harvest in a way that minimises harm.

Use it respectfully , never waste what you have taken

Share

Give thanks for what you have taken.

Give a gift , in reciprocity for what you have given.

Sustain the ones who sustain you on the earth and it will last forever.

Bull Crag Peninsular

I met this handsome gentleman a little deeper into the verge between the footpath and the forest, I had been looking for Shaggy Ink Caps and there he was. We had a wee chat and acceptance of my offer to photograph him and I left him to his day.

The beautiful eerie mist creates a stunning background to Grasses along the verge between the forest and the lake shoreline.

Grasses are sacred and pure , they are the interconnect between all living things and the life force of this planet. They are the glue which hold us all. Fairies dance around them ; our ancients , wore clothes and hats of grass or made containers to be holders of their foraging. many still do.

Grasses are the sustanence of life , they are bread and beer which was held so sacred as an offering and a connection to spirit.

I see them , I honour them and I include them.

I want people to see past a good photograph and give reverence to the grass not the image.

I want people hearts to flutter when they see clumps of grasses swaying in a breeze.

I want our ancient souls to remember foraging and grinding the grass into supper

I want us to collect them and make something with them to offer as gifts

I want people to see them as gods

Find places which have Birch and see the twinkling of green and gold in the sunlight. Seek out Rowan with purple , crimson , greens and yellows making beautiful patterns on each leaf. Sycamore trees are everywhere with their broad leafs of greens turning shades of yellow holding dark umber spots. Hunt out Oak trees when their leafs have exquisite reddy russet brown edges which seep across the leaf in time. Collect some and place them in a book , photograph them and maybe make a journal of them. Soak the experience into your spirit until you become the tree with beautiful autumn leafs.

There is something spiritual in seeing the contrast of a flower in bloom and old flower heads drooping in the landscape. Autumn is such a wonderful guide that not only of the transition of impermanence but everything has its own cadence.

Bakethin Nature Reserve

Last Saturdays morning I went to seek out shapes of tree root balls which the forest had accepted its new form after a storm. It was my first time to make art directly in nature and a joy to sit on my camp chair in the chilly air connecting by allowing the lines to inform my marks revealing hidden mystical shapes. Just sitting there slowing my time right down , then a cup of coffee to slow to the stillness of the tree itself.

Letting go of the need of an outcome and just be connecting your body to nature whilst flowing those moments onto paper.

Mindfulness knows whats happening , when it is happening without judgement. This is the nature connection.

I am sat breathing

I am sat drawing

I am sat listening

I am sat experiencing

I am nature

Nature is the master of the niche, there is beauty in its utility as much as its looks. Hundreds of million years have led to the very moment you witness a mushroom popping up from a branch or through the moss on the forest floor.

They are as much you as you are of them.

Colour has always been evocative to me all my life, it is my work to slow myself down to its feeling which pleases my spirit. I know when I wander it infuses into me and then releases subconsciously when I choose colours for my painting.

Let nature surprise you with its offerings and honour it with your curiosity and time.

It is not just the array of autumn colour on leaves , the tree barks deepen its hue due to the moisture and cold , the old blackberries have the most delightful Indian red surrounding the intensity of darkened purple. Lichens emerge from their uncovering of foliage and begin to offer muted greens and even the old whites develop a subtle hue.

During summer there is an intensity of an explosion of colour , like India , you cannot go wrong as there is vibrancy everywhere. You need not wander too far and your camera and being is full of images. As Autumn creeps along into winter it allows you to wander and explore, seeking and rummaging hidden parts, allow every moment to seeps into your soul.

Hareshaw Linn

Now that more pathways are revealed there are secret waterfalls to find along the way up towards the main waterfall , which the place is named after. Linn is originated from Scottish Gaelic for a waterfall within a narrow gorge and a pool at its foot. I have not yet photographed the Linn yet but there is a sense of magic there.

There is a famous poem by Robbie Burns of Tam Linn, where a fairy goddess entraps a knight but I think all of these places spirits and faeries dwell.

At this moment my explorations are finding new little places as we often dismiss these for something grander. The environmentalist philosopher Arne Naess stated he always pointed his tent away from the grand vista to something more simple to honour the fact that everything is beautiful.

I think I have been seeking out an Acorn like this on a tree for many years and it was a because I dropped my camera lens cap that I noticed it in the corner of my eye. I feel grateful to the place to show me this.

There are always stories to be found when you begin to start looking it doesn’t matter that you are making a photograph or not as it is that moment when there was a connection which you celebrate.

Did you find it , or did the story find you ? is a question I ask myself , are these beautiful settings a synchronicity from something greater and more mystical allowing me to tell their story ? I find that when I am trying, nothing appears but when I let go by just the joy of walking slowly that nature shows me the way.

There is no expectation anxiety in nature it just knowingly unfolds in its own time with grace and the way to be is to replicate this.

It is always about what I am connecting too , what I love to see never about the photograph or whether other people like it or not. Gone are my days of people pleasing.

Of all the days