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'They are durably imprinted memories, these footnotes, born of the skin of the walker meeting the skin of the land.' - Robert Macfarlane
The idea for this Process Letter came to me when I was reading Robert Macfarlane’s book, The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot. I love Macfarlane’s writing and the way he captures a landscape so evocatively. His writing, as well as Robin Wall Kimmerer’s work, is what drew me to nature writing several years ago. I’ve been on a journey — and will so for the rest of my life — to understand how to best capture the natural world through my writing.
So, in today’s letter, we will explore how to write landscapes — or more aptly, let landscapes write us. I want to preface that I’m not a creative writing teacher, and I’ve not got a degree in creative writing, but I am someone who has dedicated much of her life to connecting with nature; trying to break down the boundaries between self and nature; and craft this into her writing and creative practice — an ode to nature if you will. I’ll be drawing on creative non-fiction writers who do know the ins and outs of writing craft. I’ll also share my five best practices for weaving and writing landscapes and nature, and end with some creative exercises and journal prompts to help you engage with nature in your writing.
“ We tend to think of landscapes as affecting us most strongly when we are in them or on them, when they offer us the primary sensations of touch and sight. But there are also the landscapes we bear with us in absentia, those places that live on in memory longer after they have withdrawn in actuality, and such places — retreated to most often when we are most remote from them — are among the most important landscapes we possess…These, perhaps, are the landscapes in which we live the longest, warped though they are by time and abraded though they are by distance.”
I love this quote, again from Robert Macfarlane’s, The Old Ways. What I love about it is the way Macfarlane speaks to how landscapes become a part of us — leaving an imprint on our bodies and minds, that we become inextricably part of this landscape. We feel its pull when we are far away; and a sense of home when we traverse its wilderness. It’s as if the landscape begins to write us—our personal narrative is shaped by the landscapes we become part of. Our internal narrative is touched by our ecological kin.
Writing about nature and landscapes is so much more than merely speaking for nature; it’s developing a relationship with the natural world, where you are in conversation with it. We are both objectively writing what we witness and sense, while also allowing the natural world to imbue our personal narratives with some wildness.
I see nature writing as allowing the boundaries between self, nature, and words to become one.
In my essay, Our Ecological Ancestors, I explore our interdependence with landscapes, and specifically, the landscapes and wilderness of forests. In the essay, I explore the importance of seeing nature as not something passive, but a being which is very much alive and in relationship with us. When we write, I also see this interdependence taking shape in the words we craft.
When I was researching and thinking about writing landscapes, I came across the wonderful work, The Essay as Bouquet, by Suzanne Cope. In her essay, where she explores the craft of writing a ‘Hermit Crab’ essay (a form of essay writing that I am finding so interesting and fun to learn), she shares, ‘Can we ever not see nature through the lens of our humanness, especially as we strive to use it as a container to help make sense of our own stories and experiences?’ and I found this really interesting. I’d like to think we can objectively write about nature, not just through an anthropomorphic lens, but allow nature to write itself onto the page. However, I think when we write personal essays, or lyric essays, nature and landscapes can be a conduit for how we understand what it is we are writing about — which can be, but are not limited to, understanding ourselves and our personal experiences.
‘They are all part of the world in which we live: nature influenced by humans and humans inspired by nature—and all of us if not rotting, then certainly evolving in each new morning’s light.’
When I endeavour to write about landscapes, these are the five principles and practices I follow. However, I am also open to the fluidity that this can take—sometimes nature has different ideas from what I initially planned to write, and I think this flexibility is important.
Five ways to begin writing about nature & landscapes
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