We are living in a time of great change and great challenges. The seismic shifts affecting human life have wreaked havoc on the lives of so many. With the grievance of deaths, job losses and businesses closing it is no wonder that mental health has become a prominent issue. And yet within all of this chaos there has been one constant – the ebb and flow of the seasons. For many, this constancy has proven to be something of a lifeline. The online launch of Chris Packham’s The Self-Isolating Bird Club provided entertainment, comfort and solace for his subscribers during lockdown. With a membership now well in excess of sixty thousand the club continues to facilitate daily access to birds and wildlife, bringing nature into people’s homes. Unintentionally, it also serves to support those whose mental health has benefitted from a regular check-in with other bird-loving, like-minded souls. The club continues to be an invaluable resource for those who crave a connection with nature, are unable to leave their homes or who are still living in fear of going outside.

In England, at the height of the first lockdown we were fortunate to experience a stunning Spring which was followed by a scorcher of a Summer. The beginnings of the Winter were a far less dramatic affair. But as we moved into 2021 we were treated to a brief icy blast as a dramatic white blanket settled fleetingly on the barren landscape. And it wasn’t long before the scenery began to transform once more. Bare trees sprouted fresh, young leaves; the stirring of morning birdsong became audible; first snowdrops were followed by the emergence of crocuses; not forgetting the Egyptian Geese and their latest fluffy brood. Those hopeful signs of a new Spring have always been regarded as the positive turning of a corner in nature. Here’s hoping they are also indicative of better times ahead.   

“Nature itself is the best physician.”

Hippocrates

Snowflakes caught in a spider web across a window

I was flabbergasted by the unique detail of each snowflake captured by the spider’s web outside my home office window. By the time I’d finished examining each one my room had become icy-cold! Lockdown has certainly engendered an appreciation for the beauty in the seemingly mundane.

Home Office/Studio, Feb 8th

Snowdrops growing out of the snow

The first snowdrops in the park, appropriately nestled in the snow.

Priory Park, Feb 9th

A cormorant spreading and drying its wings in the late afternoon sunshine

This beauty treated us to a close up as they dried their wings in the late afternoon sunshine. S/he seemed completely undeterred by the number of people taking photos.

Finsbury Park, Feb 15th

A heron perched on one leg by the side of a lake, inspecting some cut reeds

It was such a treat to see this heron on the outer edges of the pond. Its nest is on the inner ‘island’ and it’s rare that one gets to see it up close. It remained on one leg for a significant period of time and my daughter was delighted by its apparent perfect balance. An example to us all!

Finsbury Park, Feb 18th

A squirrel peeking through the branches of a tree

Squirrel feeding continues to be the favourite therapeutic pastime for both me and my daughter in and out of the various lockdowns. This little character was somewhat shyer than the others in the park. Whereas ‘nut mugging’ is fairly common in Finsbury Park, this little fella wasn’t part of the regular squirrel gang. S/he would wait until our backs were turned before venturing down from the tree to forage for scraps.

Finsbury Park, Feb 20th

A photograph of Japanese Quince blossom growing on the tree

This beautiful salmon-coloured flower reminds me of a client who has one growing on a trellis outside her house. I have missed seeing it bloom for two seasons now although happily, I still see and teach my client every week on Zoom.

Finsbury Park, Feb 22nd

Yellow daffodils growing in a park

The first of the daffodils. A flower that, to me, signifies the hope of a new season and a new year ahead.

Parkland Walk, Feb 27th

A close-up photograph of a crocus, looking from above down into the white and purple petals and stamen of the flower

I was entranced by the delicate inner veins of this beautiful crocus. You can see the very essence of life coursing through this flower although within a few days it was withered and gone. A timely reminder of the fragility and impermanence of life.

Finsbury Park, Feb 28th

An Egyptian gosling chick

Last year we only saw one gosling from this Egyptian Goose family. This year there were no less than five of these sweet, fluffy creatures! Their parents were busily barking at them, keeping them in order and hissing at any dogs who wandered past. They were focusing special attention on this particularly wayward character that already seemed far too independent for their own good! Here’s hoping that they all make it this year.

Duck Pond, Finsbury Park, Feb 28th

An Egyptian gosling chick and parent, both looking out over a duck pond

Therapy in a picture. The duck pond at Finsbury Park attracts a wide array of people who come to look at and feed the fowl. Bird feeding became a particularly popular pastime during lockdown, so much so that at one point sourcing bird seed became an almost impossible task! I hadn’t previously realised that watching the birds could be such an extraordinarily calming experience. Time passes very quickly at the duck pond and I always come away with a strangely satisfying feeling of enrichment and quiet elation.

Duck Pond, Finsbury Park, Feb 28th

Light from the setting sun passing through the branches and blossom on a tree

Sadly many of the trees have been cut down along the Parkland Walk to facilitate repairs and create more space along a walkway that has become increasingly popular. Thankfully, this incredible bloom has avoided that fate. If the sunset on this powdery blossom doesn’t represent hope then I really don’t know what does.

Parkland Walk, Marh 1st