genesis
I remember the where, the when, and the why. The where certainly — I was sitting on my Mother-in-law’s couch in Lochend. The when roughly — it was spring twenty twenty-two, possibly March, maybe April. The why? Well I remember what gave me the idea, the proximate why if you will. I was reading the Country Diary in The Times, finding it a mite twee to be honest, when I thought — I could do that! I could write a town country-diary. But you think these kinds of things don’t you? — I should start going to the gym, I might buy a green beret, I should try to work harder. (These are examples, they are not things I would ever think about, let alone do.) These, thoughts of betterment, stay unrealized usually — nice to think about, not serious plans of action. Why did this particular thought cause action? Once I started writing, what I came to call my nature journals, there were reasons to continue. I enjoyed writing them, people said nice things about them, but these reasons only came into being once I’d begun to write. Why did I start writing?
If you were to put me on the spot I’d say that it had something to do with the lockdown (remember that?). I was one of the ones who worked during the lockdown. So, to me, life went on pretty much as normal, apart from the shops being closed and the incarceration of the middle classes. In some ways things were better for me — I had the streets to myself, traffic was light, the air smelt fresher, it was quiet; you could hear the birds sing in Princes Street. That the cafés, pubs, restaurants, and other venues of popular pleasure were shuttered didn’t affect me much, I’ve never had much money for such places anyway. I have no social life, and my family are close at a distance, so keeping away from other people wasn’t a wrench. For those of you stuck in your garrets, rapidly going off your loved ones and cutting your own hair things were different. From the outside it looked as if you were going off your chumps, too much time to think. Much of what you were thinking could have been filed away under the heading of arrant tosh. You made all kinds of resolutions, mostly about being better yous on your release. These were of course bargains; akin to, when in a hard place, promising god to live a better life, if only he would help… Such promises are rarely kept.
A lot of you did make one good pledge — to appreciate nature more on your release. You may even have meant to keep it. Certainly when I bumped into people, at a safe distance of course, they often wittered at length about their new-found regard for the beauties of the world. They didn’t seem to be lying. But another nature — human — was against them. Their resolve lasted for about thirty seconds after the doors were thrown open and the masks were torn off. Which I thought was a pity. Even in the most blighted of towns there’s much nature to enjoy, and Edinburgh is hardly the most blighted of towns.
So that was my plan for my nature journals — by writing about the local Bees and beasties, of the wild flowers and Woodlice, the birds and the bracken, I’d re-awaken a sense of wonder in the world. Or at best at least shame people into glancing about a bit before they texted deliveroo for their dinner.
Who were intended audience? These captives of mine, who would read my words and feel this shame for their crass disinterest in the natural world. Well I worked in a school, I’d just email all staff and they’d read it. I was a janny you see, what I usually emailed needed to be read, otherwise you might miss, or miss out on something important. The first few would certainly be read anyway. Then it was down to my skill as a writer.
