How to Write about Nature – Learning from Dorothy Wordsworth’s Grasmere Journal

Excerpts from Dorothy Wordsworth’s Journal DOROTHY WORDSWORTH’S JOURNAL WRITTEN AT GRASMERE (From 10th October 1801 to 29th December 1801) Sunday, October 25th.—Went upon Helvellyn. Glorious sights. The sea at Cartmel. The Scotch mountains beyond the sea to the right. Whiteside large, and round, and very soft, and green, behind us. Mists above and below, and…

A Pastoral Year – Summer – William Hamilton Gibson

A Pastoral Year – Summer – William Hamilton Gibso Farther on we see the lily-pond, with its surrounding swamp and its legion of crowded water-plants. Here are rank, massive beds of swamp-cabbage, and lofty cat-tails by the thousand among the bristling bogs of tussock-sedge and bulrush. Here are calamus patches, and alder thickets, and sedges without…

A Pastoral Year – Spring – William Hamilton Gibson

Published 1880 AS far as the eye can reach, the snow lies in a deep mantle over the cheerless landscape. I look out upon a dreary moor, where the horizon melts into the cold gray of a heavy sky. The restless wind sweeps with pitiless blast through shivering trees and over bleak hills, from whose crests,…

Sharp Eyes Summer Journal Entries Gibson

The Bewitched Cocoons June 2d Gibson, pg. 69 Gibson, pg. 70. The Bombadier Beetle June 9th Gibson, pg. 72 Gibson, pg. 74 Gibson, pg. 75 Gibson, pg. 76 The Devil’s Coach-Horse June 9th, pg. Butterfly Botany Teachers June 16th, pg. 80  

Let’s Start a Nature Journal — Let’s Sharpen Our Eyes of Perception

During the remaining days and weeks of pretty weather, I want to challenge everyone to take time to truly see what is around them–and to jot your observations in a journal of some kind.  It might be a spiral notebooks–or a simple piece of paper. Rule: You must write your observation while you are outside–actually…

Dorothy Wordsworth – Excerpts from Her Grasmere Journal

DOROTHY WORDSWORTH’S JOURNAL WRITTEN AT GRASMERE (14th May to 21st December 1800) MAY 14TH, 1800.—The lake looked to me, I knew not why, dull and melancholy, and the weltering on the shores seemed a heavy sound. I walked as long as I could amongst the stones of the shore. The wood rich in flowers; a…