When saying 'Yes' is exactly what you need

Reconnecting with nature, especially when you are ‘too busy.’

Just over a week ago, I had a list as long as my arm workwise and the hubs and the kids were about to set off to their skiing holiday that night, and yet I had booked to go on an event for two hours that morning.

This event was a nature writing walk with a local CIC – River Holme Connections and author Lawrence Rose – it sounded great but with that huge list looming and not being quite sure where the meet-point was, I was so close to backing out.

However No. 1, I hate letting people down, especially when I know how much effort goes into putting on events like this , and No. 2, last time I felt like this, something amazing happened, and lead to a catalogue of events that have had a big, positive impact.

Let me explain…

So, last year I was meant to be going to a Huddersfield Literature Festival event, an author session, another fellow nature writer.

On the actual day it was gloomy weather in Huddersfield where the event was taking place, my optician appointment before the event had over-run, and I realised at the last minute that it wasn’t happening in the church that I thought, but in fact a 15-minute walk out of the town centre!

I ummed and ahhed, especially as following google maps is not my forte, but in the end I worked out the directions, walked at pace in the foggy grey drizzle and turned up soaked and a little late, but I’d managed to get there!

A nice man brought me a cup of tea and I sat at the back, peeling of my wet layers, and getting settled. The author began her talk, and I looked up and surveyed the room. I soon realised that there was a woman at the front whose voice and posture I recognised from the back.

Sure enough, it was Bev, a woman I’d known for 2 years but had never met ‘in real life’ she attended my online writing club, and had recently received the news that her cancer had returned, and was undergoing treatment again, and so she was sat in a headscarf with her friend, listening to the author too.

I couldn’t believe she was here, and took that immediately as a sign that I was meant to be there that day afterall.

Once the talk was over, I edged over and tapped her on the shoulder – to which she jumped up and exclaimed to her friend, ‘It’s my writing teacher! (which I found hilarious) and gave me a big hug! It was so good to see her, and catch up in real life.

But that wasn’t the only remarkable thing from that day.

At the event was also the Director of the Huddersfield Literature Festival, Michelle, and given that it felt like I was meant to be there that day, I decided to be bold and went up to her to introduce myself.

We ended up chatting about all sorts, including the creative workshops I deliver, and whether that could be useful for an HLF event in the future, plus I talked about writing my book and explained I was thinking about applying for Art’s Council DYCP  (Developing Your Creative Practice) funding, to which she said ‘Go for it!’ and explained more about the process which was really helpful.

From that encouragement, I did apply, and last year was one of the 24% of successful applicants to receive the funding for my book project! And I also followed up on the connection I had made with Michelle, and this year I am delivering three events for the literature festival!

So my point is, can you imagine if I hadn’t pushed myself to go to that event? Two amazing opportunities would have been missed, and I wouldn’t have met my fabulous writing club member Bev either.

I came away from that event buzzing and took it as a huge lesson to always follow through on my plans as you just never know what can happen.

And so it was with that memory that I had a word with myself and got my butt into the car to meet the group at the nature walk event…

I found the other participants straight away off the main road so that was one thing sorted! I parked the car and walked down to the meeting point and introduced myself to Michelle and Jane from River Holme Connections and they introduced me to Lawrence Rose, the Author leading the walk that day.

We didn’t stop talking from the get-go. Lawrence had worked for the RSPB for 40 years and so we connected over our love of birds as I spent a lot of my childhood with my bird watcher dad at RSPB reserves across the UK.

Once our group had all arrived, we walked down passed the mill pond of Bottom’s Mill, over a wooden bridge where we saw a pair of dippers, bobbing against the current, and then strode into a wide green field next to the river, where Lawrence gave us a little writing exercise.

Instructions given, we scattered like curious rabbits, hopping into the woods, along the river or to inspect the mole hills in the field to compose our words.

For once, I headed up the hill and into the woods, found an old birch trunk to sit on, and wrote the following on a tiny notepad, snuggling into the collar of my coat;

I almost didn’t come today, To-Do lists beckoned, a search for my daughter’s woolly hat for her skiing trip tonight, last-minute drying of clothes to cram into suitcases.

And yet here I am, the pull of nature mixed with my second love of writing too strong. We are given direction and I head upwards, keen for once to stretch my lungs, untangle the knotted airwaves and suck in sharp, cool air.

Over the stile and into the woods I pause to listen; notice the squawk of an aggrieved pheasant, somewhere I hear tinkling bells or am I imagining that? They sound so similar to the wind chimes in my garden. Feathered friends compete in a sing-off as I perch on an uprooted birch and accidentally place my fingers into slimy fungi flesh!

Now, as is always my habit, I tilt my chin to the sky and take a picture of the canopy above, a spidery web of branches, so closely related to lung x-rays, softly swaying, drawing me in and giving me oxygen.

All thoughts and responsibilities drift away on a breeze to bulbous clouds held by a Spring-blue sky, and the trusted tonic of the trees has been thirstily gulped down.

It doesn’t take me long to write this, once I begin it is a river flow of words that is only halted by the allocated time to re-join the group.

On my way down the hill, a robin spies me from a nearby bush and then dances on the path to lead the way. I nod to it and say hello, you never know who it may be.

Back in a group, we create a circle and share our pieces; a variable collection of words, all different and yet all linked to our own personal connection to nature that day.

Such intricate work, created by a prompt and half an hour in fresh air, observing the palette of greens, and blues, the rushing river water and bird song, mole-hill homes, reflections in puddles, and even the Lowri-like matchstick people of our group.

Now, with our creative juices flowing we walked on, to a muddy riverside path to another bridge, pointing out flora and fauna on the way.

Lawrence quoted a Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, who said ‘No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.’

He commented it was a good thing to revisit places in difference seasons, weathers, when elements of nature are offering up different things for us to find, but also importantly, we are also bringing our different selves, with new experiences, changing moods and thoughts and I love this idea of noticing those differences each time you visit the same place.

We then moved onto the final scene for the walk, walking alongside a Goit ( where the river parted into a thinner – gutter like branch of the main river - see main image) and Lawrence talked about how some words you only find in nature, such as ‘goit’ and that it’s important to keep using them, so we don’t lose them in our language.

As we walked along the path, Lawrence who also works in conservation, pointed out rotting trunks that have a whole eco-system within, and so it’s important not to move them - what a great topic for writing, a whole other world that we cannot see.

Finally the path opened up to the large, glassy mill pond, over-looked by the old, redbrick tower of Bottom’s mill and we were in for more treats; swans, ducks, a heron constructing its nest, nosy Canada geese and Lawrence even spotted a raven on top of the tower!

Here we wrote our final little pieces, this is mine;

Bottoms Up, at Bottom’s Mill

Tangerine webbed feet against soft, downed bellies

Long black necks of sharp-eyed geese

And the heron busily builds her giant nest

Whilst we observe in silence, thankful for the gift of today.

We listened again to everyone’s pieces, all beautiful in different, unique ways, and then it was time to say goodbye and return to our ‘busy’ lives but feeling so grateful that we had relished these 2 hours of escape.

Not only had I received such inspiration from the wonderful Lawrence, and visited a new place I’d not walked before, but I’d also chatted to the other writers and found out a great deal more from Michelle and Jane about the brilliant work that River Holme Connections do to preserve the Holme Valley’s river habitat, including working with schools to get more young people involved in environmental issues and by also creating events like these to help people connect on a deeper level with their natural environment.

I’m so glad I put aside my work for a few hours, and instead made new connections with like-minded nature lovers and spent some time walking, observing and writing.

It’s such a simple thing to do, and vitally important to de-stress the mind when times are a little bit manic.

I came back full of energy to get stuck in again, bags were packed, work got done and I have the memory (and photos!) of this event to use as another great piece of evidence that we need to do this for ourselves, to step off the wheel of life once in a while, reconnect with our imagination, spend time in the beauty of nature and feel inspired and re-energised again.

Next time there will be no deliberation, it will be a wholehearted YES!

Lots of love from Under the Trees

Juliet x