Sounds of nature can help ease our internal concerns
Northern Drift by Monique Sliedrecht
I’ve been waking up to the rousing call of the song thrush lately. The beautiful and varied tune of this joyful bird makes up for the early rise. It draws me out of my morning rumination, with a gift of wonder at such a creature, herald of a new day with fresh possibilities.
It’s easy to be burdened by personal and world concerns, to get caught in gossip and envy, or frozen by financial pressures.
But what if we were to let go for a moment and look up and out, rather than dwelling on our problems? Perhaps we could walk in step with the created world, even just a little while, and learn something about the “unforced rhythms of grace”, letting what we observe inform all we do and change our perspectives.
Notice the gentleness of the deer in the long grasses. Look up to the sound of geese flying in an organised V against a perfect blue sky (something I saw the other day which made me stop in amazement). Marvel at the evening light on the trees, the pale blonde of a primrose, the sound of the curlew, the power of waves on the sea, brightness of gorse bushes, the tumbling display of lapwings in flight, the birth of a calf, the nodding of yellow daffodils in the wind.
The other night, friends and I went out and lit a bonfire on the beach to celebrate a landmark event we shared together. As day faded into evening and we settled in, stars began to appear one by one until the darkening sky was flickering with tiny lights.
We sat by the warmth of the fire, under this thrilling display, in silence and awe. It was hard to tear ourselves away and go to bed. That starry night will stay with me – a long-lasting memory.
The glories of the natural world have been a comfort to me during the last few weeks.
I was recently bereaved of an aunt in Holland and then an uncle in Australia within a couple of months of each other. Even though they were so far away, they played a significant role in my life through visits my family and I would make from Canada to the Netherlands, or vice versa. They regularly came up in our conversations at home.
I feel for my 80-year-old father especially in losing two of his siblings so close together. These special people brought something important to the world. Alongside kindness and fun, my aunt shared her love of music, teaching recorder lessons to children for many years, and my uncle created art and led workshops to adults in Brisbane and beyond.
They left their mark in hearts and minds and will be greatly missed. But I know that they, too, would want me to look up, to notice the good gifts in this world. One such gift, and a balm in the midst of grief, is the knowledge that spring always arrives, bringing with it the emergence of new life. And we can contribute to that through bringing innovation and creativity into the world.
There is a time to weep.
And also a time to laugh.
One powerful thing a few days ago was to see a touring theatre company at work in Wick. Their energy, humour and inventiveness was truly inspiring and kept me laughing throughout. It drew people, young and old, together.
We were all taken outside ourselves into the world of imagination and storytelling. There’s nothing like live theatre as opposed to endless screen time, which can become depressing. It was wonderful to witness such exuberance and human connection.
In this way, nature and artistry can help us to address our problems and travel way beyond our self preoccupation.
All this makes me think of the lilting melody of the song thrush, and its marvellous variety. Right there, outside my window, is a reminder of the treasure store of nature and the awakening spring.
• Monique Sliedrecht is an artist and blogger based at Freswick. Visit her blog at www.moniquesliedrecht.com
