Naturalist

According to this NYT article, "Potter sketched animals, objects and fungi as if training herself for a career as a naturalist."  Oh, if that were still a career option.

Ms. Potter pictured with her mouse, Xarifa, top photo, an illustrated letter, middle, and pictured with Benjamin Bouncer, bottom.

All images from the New York Times.

In Perpetuity

Together we sow, together we grow. 

Author unknown.  Found via Even Cleveland.

Holland Park

When in London last month, my mother and I explored many sites, including Holland Park on the suggestion from News from Nowhere.

We were delighted by the gardens, the peacocks, the perfectly dilapidated estate, but mostly the Nature Play Area.  Both of us are firm believers in letting kids play in wild areas, and have discussed this often in the context of Last Child in the Woods, a book my grandmother encouraged us each to read. 

Set apart from the bustling streets of London, this section of the park could easily cure a case of Nature Deficit Disorder.  Unfortunately we couldn't enter, as the sign at the entrance says "No adults unless accompanied by children."  I suppose we could have loosely translated that and entered, as I am the child of my mother, but we didn't test it.

To my mother on her birthday, thanks for teaching me the beauty of things. Here's to more exploring together!

Mudlarking

photo by Stephen Lewis, from the TMagazine

Whoa: T Magaizine, The Wading Game

Some people have recurring dreams about flying or breathing underwater or something else that makes them feel elated.  My recurring dreams involve treasure hunting: walking into a thrift store that sells everything I could ever want, for a dollar; stumbling upon a garage sale that is in an old mansion that hasn't been opened up in 100yrs, and everything is a dollar; more to the point, the dream where I am walking on a rocky beach looking for beach glass but realizing that instead of beach glass, the soft waves are washing up antique jewelry or artifacts.  These are delirious dreams from which I wake up disappointed.

But this article proves that variations of dreams can be true.  The next time I visit London, this is on my MUST DO list (followed by a long stroll through the V&A).

On a similar note, when I was in Philadelphia last summer, I went for a walk to a small overgrown arboretum.  There was a river/creek running at the back of the property, and on the other side was a rather large and run down apartment complex.  Not very idyllic.   I stepped off the path onto a rocky bed surrounded by grass and garbage.  There was an abandoned fire pit and some beer bottles.  But peering at the rocks and pebbles a little longer, I noticed large amounts of "beach" glass.  A seasoned gatherer, I began picking it up, more and more of it, and definitely got into a bit of a trance.   It was old glass, iridescent colors and thick bottle bottoms.  I'm not sure if there was once a dump nearby or if the push of the creek forced these pieces onto this one rocky bank.  After a good wash, they're now in a ziplock bag in my desk waiting until I can unpack their history a little better.  For now they're just beautiful pieces of garbage.