Nature Journal III

At long last, a new bakers-dozen gallery, taken from my now-filled 3rd Nature Journal (2015-17). What with a very busy professional life, as well as packing and moving house a year ago, what I originally thought would be a book-a-year personal project has lengthened into over two years for this third one (each journal book is 125 pages). Ah well, to everything there is a season. And as a wise person said, it’s not necessarily the speed you’re going that counts, but that you’re moving, and in the right direction. This past spring and summer, it’s been great to get back to completing earlier unfinished sketches and watercolours, and to once again find I have time to immerse myself in observing small quirks and details of nature that present themselves as the seasons proceed. Seemingly small details, I should say — they may reflect much broader forces that unite our daily lives with the cosmos in which we live. In physics and natural philosophy: as above, so below.

Click on any image to launch full size slideshow. When finished, close slideshow by clicking on the x in the upper R corner. All images ©Kathryn Chorney.

: Tiny signs of spring: Grape Hyacinths that escape from garden beds out into the lawns and verges of the city. Tiny, complex structures, with the spiralling form so often seen in nature.

: Another familiar sight within the delicate ecosystems of the Bruce Peninsula, at Singing Sands. Sketching the ‘pitchers’ in pencil downplays the ‘scariness’ of their green/red veined appearance, focusing instead on their beautiful vase-like forms.

: Early summer in Tobermory Ontario, at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula, and these familiar wild orchids are in their glory. Orchids always seem to have their own unique ways of doing things, so unlike other flowering plants.

: A widely ranging wildflower. This specimen’s blooms were not yet fully open when I found them. I’m always most interested in flowers that defy the conventional forms we know best, and am continually amazed at the variety of forms that flowers can take.

: I’ve always thought ‘Bleeding Heart’ was sort of a corny name for this interesting plant. A closer look reveals the intricate structure – so much more than just pretty pink hearts!

: Also near our new home, a tree was cut down, and I found a startling contrast between the stark geometry of the cut trunk and the complex organic forms of the stump itself and roots.

: Nature is in the house. This orchid had not bloomed for two years, so the early small green buds were a welcome sight. I avidly followed their progress over the next several pages of my journal. This spread proceeds right to left (my habit as a left-handed artist).

: The buds begin to open. I had never taken the opportunity and time to really observe the unique and complex forms of these flowers.

: This is where I really get interested, in the tiny reproductive parts of flowers. It’s great to see how far you can take simple observations, just with the aid of a magnifying glass and a few close-up photos (I just used my phone-cam). The blooms lasted a good three months (except for the one I removed the anther cap from – once that was done, it considered its work complete).

: Near our new home, there is an old tree stump that plays host to a large population of fungi that reappear at frequent intervals. This Dryad’s Saddle takes a variety of fascinating forms as it grows.

: I took notice of these interesting buds at the Royal Botanical Gardens on a winter indoor-sketching day.

: Things jump out of your daily routine, you take notice, and it leads to learning something. One spring day I noticed trees in the city sporting big clusters of bright pink blooms. More learning about different types of flower forms – I learned this structure is common to many peas and beans. You probably knew that already – I didn’t till I took the time to stop, look, and draw!