field notes


madagascar butterfly

" . . . I suppose maybe I am riddled by the idea of observation — of life, of planet, of space, of time, of essence, of grain. The grain from which our lives grow. The marrow of the spirit; The tenacity of the human heart. I seek to conserve it. Contradictory as I am, I also seek absolution. I envision, both blindly and methodically—obsessively, really—how to give away the things that seem un-purposeful, which, in sum, becomes everything at some point."
— Field Notes, February 4, 2015

Summaries are not my strong suit, nor are outlines. In fact, save for the mandatory APA style This & That required of me in high school composition class, I've never produced an outline for a paper or written piece. I am propelled by organic, freeform writing. Look to the smattering of Field Notes in my life for proof; they are brimming with schedules, recipes, "journal" entries and observations. I dare to purport—to summarize!—2015 as the year of Field Notes. The little gridline notebooks became something of a companion. 

Nestled between scribbles during amateur birding expeditions and reminders to pay my bills, there were passages that help me recall my very real, very emotional, very growing heart. In 2015, Mark and I got engaged, dove into hobbies + jobs with both feet, moved + traveled, stood before the most magnificent Baobab tree (pictured), felt the heaviness of loss + the lightness of faith. It was a batter up, sprinting the bases, home run year of life.

sam observing

" . . .  To awake today with my one and eternal love—knowing that love was expanding in our very presence—was a loud feeling. And though my hangover was but dull, and a nagging headache sought to take my mind off their love, it failed. The mundane is mighty and the mightiest of moments remind us to stronghold the mundane ones. Those, too, exist on only one pendulum."
— Field Notes, July 26, 2015

As you prepare to ring in a new year, I hope you contemplate the uniqueness of this one. What did 2015 look like for you? Can you recount the novel textures, sounds, and visions? What was your favorite vegetable? Where was the magic? What did Nature teach you? How did you give of yourself to those around you?