Wednesday. 6:30 am. An invigoratingly fresh early morning cycle. Yesterday was wet and dark with constant heavy rain. Tomorrow will be another day of unseasonal rain and dark clouds.
Yet today, I had the sense of the world having been washed. Or at least in this place, this part of the world, a few dozen square miles of Beacon Fell (my nearby home for walks, cycles, reflection and facilitated nature connecting walks). It seemed as if by magic, or at the flick of an overnight switch, the world looked anew, fresh and different.
Many of the pioneer Beech trees only planted (by hand or self-seeded) following storms of a few seasons back, now stood taller than myself. Ki brushed me as I cycled through the gravel tracks to the summit trig point. Most surprising, however, was the abundant purple heather that seemly have come into colour overnight. Autumn was arriving.
Having been exploring the world of watercolour this year it is very tempting to see the world in named colours, here the sky was Ceridian blue fading into the near horizons, mixing with lemon yellow to young trees in their fresh greens, mixing with purples to the heather hues, whereas, the more distant conifers blended with the deeper marine blue, pains grey and alizarin crimson.
As Ron Ranson, who has become a guide in my watercolour (fast and loose) endeavours notes 'Skies can be some of the most dramatic happenings in nature and their colour and cloud formation are often the major elements in the landscape. It is essential to know the principles of cloud formation so that you connect and bring nature into your painting. Ideally, to learn skies properly you should observe and paint one a day.' And what a wonderful daily nature connecting activity is this?
I stopped awhile at a favourite reflection point looking out over the plain of Amounderness in the southeast and over the Bowland Fells behind me to the northeast. Recent conversations around our forthcoming Biophilia Playbook focused on Green biophilic travel, asking questions:
How healthy, how green, how invigorating is your commuting journey? How could you make that journey better for us and the environment?
My early morning cycles are in many ways my commute alternative, yet I recognise a far distance away from what the typical commuting world experiences. But does it have to be so? Could we make travel to a place of work, to a place of study, to health facilities, be as invigorating as a walk or a cycle through a seasonal or unseasonal wilderness such as this?
I have long been advocating for construction sites and other places to offer advice on Green travel options and green spaces, a place to take five, spaces for lunch or to find a little quiet time. Encouraging this is becoming more evident and included in site inductions, onboarding, and wellbeing notice boards,
Not every commute or everyday travel will be as invigorating as my cycle this morning. Lessons here, as I reflected on the benefits of appreciating the ‘outdoors’ in all conditions and climates, weathers, light patterns and places, to appreciate both the Storms and the Starlights of our environment.
A good mental reflection here is asking questions, the why, what, how. Whilst we may not be able to change things immediately, may not have all the answers here and now, asking questions can make us less dependent on following the same old treadmill. It will help open doors to a better, regenerative future.
My cycle the following morning was grey, dark and wetter. It took a little longer to appreciate the value of being out of doors in inclement weather, raindrops on my face, glasses misted, and wet socks and shoes. Yet the unseasonal beauty was still there.
Storms and Starlight has become one of my themes for many articles, talks, presentations and more, appreciating and reflecting on the beauty of both, enjoying the synergy and joy they both bring. And for me, this is a regenerative core - moments of connection, moments of feeling, of being, noting and sharing.
Whenever rain falls, our countryside changes. Fields, farms, hills and hedgerows appear altered, the wildlife behaves differently, and over time the terrain itself is transformed. Rain. Melissa Harrison.
And it is in these moments, these Atoms of Delight, when stars and storms align we get moments of clarity and breathtaking breakthroughs and a glimpse of (in the words of Robin Wall Kimmerer), "what is it that the Earth asks of us".
My inspiration for writing this and sharing these notes goes back to Mary Oliver’s powerful short poem,
Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be amazed Tell about it
Atoms of Delight
… borrowed from a title from Neil Gunn, and a recent title from Kenneth Steven, “a series of meditative quests in search of ‘atoms of delight’ – treasures, both natural and spiritual – through some of Scotland’s most beautiful landscapes.”
Regen Notes
Regen Notes are postcards … from where I am with my thoughts and activities in this regenerative space … Thank you for reading and subscribing.