Just a couple of months ago, I was trying to get this blog off the ground. I was planning days out with my daughters, and spending more time on the beach myself. The youngest and I had been to our first session of Nature Tots for the year, and all three of us headed to RSPB Pulborough Brooks back at half term.
(The RSPB is now, forevermore, the "Rude Society of Poos and Bums" in our household. Ah, children.)
And now, we're not. We're approaching the end of three weeks in lockdown, and the furthest my girls have been from home is the beach, just a few minutes' walk away. Getting out in nature seems hard, and taking the time to enjoy it stressful, as the general message is to keep moving when you are out and exercising - don't hang around. The beach invites play, and that seems to be out of bounds for now, for very good reasons.
And so, if we go outside, we head to the garden — most of the time, at least.
Our garden isn't huge - we chose proximity to the sea and the river over a bigger garden - but right now I feel so blessed to have it. There's room for the girls to explore and play. And I've been able to spend more time learning the rhythms of the garden, and the creatures we share it with.
I've taken to bringing my camera out with me, not just to capture the girls at play, but also to allow me to study nature as it exists in my garden much more closely. And I'm coming to value it: I'm experiencing a garden as I did as a child. Intensely, in detail. Exploring little nooks and crannies, the the wee beasties that live there, in a way I've never take the time to do in my adult life.