Anja Murray: Nature helps us stay grounded in challenging times
Anja Murray: "Flowering catkins are the kind of thing we walk past without hardly noticing, but when we stop to look, we see that male catkins are loaded with tiny yellow pollen grains while female catkins are rich in nectar. These are what make willow a crucial resource for early emerging bumblebees." Picture: iStock
World events are unfolding in deeply disturbing ways. The resumption of military attacks on innocent civilians in Gaza. Ongoing war in Ukraine. Civil war and humanitarian crisis in Sudan. Rapid erosion of civil and human rights in the USA by a deeply corrupt regime, the machinations of which are much worse than most people imagined they could be. Across the USA, hard fought-for policies to protect the environment and mitigate climate change are being dismantled, with ramifications across the globe. Here in Ireland, anecdotal evidence is mounting that racism and homophobia are rising rapidly. Carrying on with ‘life as normal’ in this context is discombobulating. What are we, as individuals and communities, to do with this knowledge?
Rebecca Solnit, an American writer I admire greatly, offers some guidance for getting through these dark times. In her now weekly blog, ‘ Meditations in an Emergency’, she recommends taking care of ourselves so that we can "keep taking care of human rights, truth, justice, and the natural world". For her, as much as for me, this means watching birds, playing with children, standing together, and spending time among "the oak trees just budding out, the wildflowers beginning to appear". Such reassuring activities are what give us the strength to keep paying attention to what’s happening and to seek out the ‘big picture of resistance’.
In the past week, I’ve felt especially overwhelmed by world events. And once again, I’ve had to relearn that one of the most powerful antidotes to managing distressing feelings is spending time in nature. I’ve felt reassured and recharged by observing the patterns of fractal ferns unfurling; looking long enough at a branch of a hazel tree to find the tiny red flowers that are hiding in plain sight; watching a big bumblebee queen landing on the bright, shimmering petals of lesser celandine flowers at the bottom of the garden; and listening to the starlings' surprising repertoire of songs, chirps and gurgles.
And now that we’ve just passed through the Spring equinox and the rotation of the Earth on its axis favours daylight over darkness, everything is about to be transformed by the lengthening of days. Now is the perfect time to get out and reconnect with the everyday wonders of the natural world. It's not about travelling far, but about carving out pockets of time to explore woodlands, hedgerows, rivers, and whatever wild habitats are within reach.
Early mornings are beginning to come alive at this time of year with the growing momentum of the dawn chorus. Each winter it's as though I forget the wonder of the dawn chorus, and I am again enthralled by the blue tits, blackbirds and robins who sing from first light. Their tunes are so absurdly melodic and serene that I find myself outside each morning, barely awake and still in my nightclothes, feeling fortunate to be alive in a place and time where everyday birds sing so enthrallingly. Bright spring days are also an invitation from the sun to the trees to unfurl their green leaves, and right about now, bud burst is imminent in many of our native deciduous trees. Over the coming weeks, watch out for delicate new leaves appearing from their perfectly folded positions inside the leaf buds of ash, alder, birch, rowan, willow, hazel, and oak.
In hedgerows, hawthorn trees are already beginning to bud, and very soon each branch will erupt in to fresh green leaves, to be followed by a profusion of brightening white blossoms by May. Venturing in to a deciduous woodland during April can be one of the most reassuring and life affirming of experiences, as wood anemones display their gorgeous luminous white flowers and swathes of bluebells begin to blossom beneath the still leafless canopy. These woodland wildflowers provide a welcome early feast of nectar for insect pollinators like bumblebees, hoverflies and butterflies.
Finding a willow tree adorned with catkins is worth doing too, as fluffy silver and yellow tinged catkins are very much at their peak this week. Flowering catkins are the kind of thing we walk past without hardly noticing, but when we stop to look, we see that male catkins are loaded with tiny yellow pollen grains while female catkins are rich in nectar. These are what make willow a crucial resource for early emerging bumblebees. Standing quietly beside a willow tree offers us the opportunity to watch and listen to wild bees as they gather up nectar and pollen to bring back to her nest site, where she makes a saucer-like base of pollen mixed with her saliva, upon which to lay her first batch of eggs. Look out for the bright yellow pollen sacs on the bumblebees’ hind legs.
Visiting a pond, we can watch for the mounds of frogspawn, emerging tadpoles, and little froglets growing. Perhaps make plans for a creating a wildlife pond in your own garden or farm that will can offer refuge for next year’s froglets.
Even the most commonplace of plants — stinging nettles — offer us an opportunity to reconnect with the generous bounty of nature at this time of year. Nettles are rich in beneficial vitamins, and minerals in addition to flavonoids and phenolic acids. There is an old tradition in Cavan of making nettle soup at least three times during lent. Sharing the soup with family or friends brings joy in multiple ways.
These are the gifts offered freely up to us by the everyday elements of nature that surround us. They are worth taking time to notice and appreciate, especially in the current context of world events. If we are observant enough, we may even feel a boost to our emotional resilience and a fresh ability to engage with the world.
