Eastern cottontail rabbit

Always alert.

This past July I’ve been seeing all sorts of rabbits in the outdoor grassy spaces where I work. So far, they all appear to be Eastern cottontails, and during the daylight hours I see them on overcast days, during a gentle rain, or when things are quiet after a drenching storm. There is a wooded area nearby for a quick retreat, but I seem to be tolerated if I don’t stop and look too long. They are wary enough that I have to be content with memory and photos for later sketching.  

I’ve been seeing all sizes – from larger adults to young bunnies I could cradle in my hands. The young ones are especially jumpy and restive, so I try not to linger. Naturally I’ve now been reading up on Eastern cottontails and was surprised to find a wide range in the US up to the Canadian border, even extending south into central America. How adaptable! They are vegetarians and like to inhabit habitat edges – the fringes between woods and meadow, lawn and garden. The sources say that rabbits prefer to feed at twilight or night, even though I’m seeing plenty during the day when the sun is behind the clouds. 

Sketched from photos, because they would never pose this long!

Exploring nature as a child, I thrilled to find evidence of rabbit “nests” – magical hollowed-out circles in the tall grasses or low shrubby foliage in the woods. Sometimes a bit of fur was the only evidence inside the cozy nest of twisted and flattened grass, but I could never surprise any residents. Only if I was lucky and very quiet, I might glimpse the ball of white furry tail bounding away, then suddenly vanishing. I intended to do some quick gesture sketches in pen, but those turned into detailed studies… because, well… just because. Caught up in trying to capture the mass and weight of the larger ones, and describing the fur with the right pen strokes, I dropped into my default mode – go for the detail. Observation and making an eye-hand-subject connection is a way for me to learn about what I’m sketching, and detail does that for me. The challenge! 

Trying to capture those crazy fur textures and colors.

 A large and shiny eye, fur that varies in direction and color, unusual and unfamiliar shapes of skull and body. And the fur color – unique in that it has gray and brown fur tipped with black, and then russet and white parts. Each rabbit I saw seemed to have slightly different patterns of brindled black markings. Some almost all brown with very little black, some more gray, others heavily marked with black. The markings mimic the dappled shade of leaf litter or pine needles, even dry grasses. A good strategy if one is part of a food web.

Our influx of rabbits might be due to the expanding territory of the invasive pythons that curse the Everglades and beyond. These large constrictor snakes have become a new enemy to our small mammals. Biologists have documented the loss of rabbits, raccoons, possums, and foxes in Florida, and the statistics are sobering. Sigh. But that is a post for another day. 

Today I will just enjoy the experience of sharing a space with our rabbit families, and keep a lookout for pythons. 

A sketch from two years ago -
their coloring blends well with tree bark and leaf litter.

Media: 

Aquabee Super Deluxe Mixed Media sketchbook 

Mechanical pencil .7mm 

Rabbits: Pitt Artist Pen S, Sepia 

Fur: Micron Pigma 01, black 

Watercolor pencils – Derwent and Kimberly 

Niji waterbush, round M

Midsummer Florida

Summertime in Southwest Florida has a rhythm of its own.  It’s a pattern of heat and moisture and rain and cooling.  It’s a time of luxuriant growth for the plants adapted to it.  It’s also a time when I notice young lizards and birds and bunnies out and about, learning the ways of the world. 

Storm coming.

  Our rainy season typically starts the first part of June, sometimes late May.  The days are hot, spilling over with intense bright light as the clouds start forming.  Smaller cotton-ball clouds gather and grow from the moisture that evaporates and rises from the warming land and earth-bound waters.  Boundless clear blue skies start filling up with towering cumulus clouds, sometimes building many miles upwards.

 The clouds roll in from the Everglades, sunlit white, gathering colors of violet, blue, and dark gray along the bottoms and up through the centers.  The air feels a bit cooler when the clouds hide the sun, but it’s still quite humid.  When water saturation reaches a critical point, the rain starts, typically late afternoon.  The other night we had torrential rain off and on for hours – along with booming thunder and sporadic lightning.  Abundant water recharges our underground aquifers, and brings on an explosion of plant growth.

 

So much nature can be seen in suburban spaces.

The flowers of spring are turning into fruits now – nearby I see Simpson stopper ripening, seagrape (still green), cocoplum and more.  June flowers are blooming of course: a casual suburban observer might see common natives like Spanish needles, beach sunflower, and duck potato easily.  These are just a few volunteers in the space I move within every day, the ones I happen to stop and notice.  I also see the birds and their nests, an occasional small black snake, and young Eastern cottontails (one every day!), and other signs of procreation and growth.

 This is our lazy summer rhythm, the days hot and humid, then the clouds and rain, cooler but wet.  Nothing drenches and soaks to the bone like a Florida summer rain.  We’ve just passed the Summer Solstice and the days still feel long, although they are starting to shorten.  Our rainy season continues through the lingering months of July, August and September, and by mid-October I imagine a massive collective sigh of relief among residents.  We may still have the potential for tropical storms and hurricanes until the end of November, but at least we’ll be more comfortable.

No matter what's going on in the human world, the natural world keeps marking time, finding its own rhythms, confirming new life.  These are the drumbeats that feed my soul and the music that helps me make sense of life. 

Munching on a bit of grass.

Media:
Mechanical pencil .7mm
Micron Pigma 01, black
Aquabee Super Deluxe Mixed Media sketchbook
Daniel Smith watercolors, Botanical Floral half-pan set
Niji waterbush, round M

Green heron

Just walking, I happened to veer to the small lake nearby and discovered a green heron intently gazing at the water’s surface.  The heron perched on a concrete culvert in the bright sun on the edge of the lake, blue sky above, green water below.  Rocking slightly in the breeze on bent, sturdy legs and anchored by long toes, waiting …waiting for a ripple in the water, a movement that might mean dinner.

Click on image to view larger.

 I think of these smallish herons as shy birds, easily bothered and not tolerant of prolonged observation.  I quickly took a photo or two, and tried to spend the remaining precious moments in deep observation.  Ki flew off within minutes, not sure of my intentions.  I made a few drawings afterwards, and starting learning more about green herons. 

 This green heron was not exactly green, but had green glints and highlights along darker back body feathers. A beautiful russet-colored neck patch, body structure, yellow legs and eyes add to the distinctive markings.  A year-round resident of Florida, populations swell at times with migrating kin from the north.     

 I read that breeding season in Florida starts in March and runs through July, so perhaps this heron was out hunting for food for the family.  One of our smaller herons, about the size of a large crow, they like to inhabit the edges of wetlands, with food on one side and cover on the other.  With a stocky build and a long thick neck settled on shoulders, they can look ungainly on land. 

A fascinating item – green herons sometimes use tools to catch food, one of a few species that do this.  They drop twigs, insects or other tidbits onto the water surface to entice fish to surface and feed within their reach.  Debate may continue over definitions of tools and tool use, but many agree that this type of behavior indicates an increased intelligence. 

 Things to think about. 

Want to read more about green herons?

Wikipedia:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_heron

Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission fact sheet: 
https://myfwc.com/media/19710/bba_grhe.pdf

ebird.org:  https://ebird.org/species/grnher  

Media
Aquabee sketchbook, 6x9”
.7 mm mechanical pencil
Micron Pigma Pen, black 01
Kimberly watercolor pencils
Niji waterbrush, Medium

I am from: using nature memories to define who we are and to celebrate our unique sense of place.

The inspiration

Recently I came across an article about the “I Am From” poem and the project that flowed from it.  The poems moved me deeply as I read through the unique and diverse experiences reflected in the poems people submitted.   Some of them, very powerful and moving.  The original poem and catalyst for this project was written by George Ella Lyons.  People are welcome to submit poems to the project’s Facebook page and website, and have even created videos for YouTube.  They do this individually or as a group.  There is a wonderful video of a collaborative fabric art project that not only celebrates each unique person, but creates a strong sense of place as a whole.

 I wrote a poem for myself and was surprised at the countless sights, sounds, and events that define who I am today! It includes good parts and the not-so-good, and some of the pain that emerged during this process.   I suggest a focus on what is true, but to also look for the good.  Good seems to endure and light the way, for ourselves but also for others.   I submitted this poem to the website, and hope it will be added to the “river of voices” and the amazing diversity of experiences.

 A nature perspective

Then I wondered if condensing my focus to nature would also work and tried it out – you can read that result below.  This process inspired me to add the words and resulting imagery to my nature journal.  I loved the renewed connection to the nature of my childhood and beyond, and drew with abandon, not worrying about tidy lines or splashing color around! 

This was such a memorable experience!  I suggest you try it in your own nature journal.  You can see that some of my sketches are uncomplicated while some have a bit more attention.  Some reflect that inner child.  Don’t worry about your skill level – just the basics, or even descriptive color swathes work.  Both Clare Walker Leslie and Mimi Robinson have used color shapes alone to beautifully describe environments and seasons.  Try it and see.  There are also other ways to add visual imagery:  photos, collage, prints, or ephemera such as pressed leaves or flowers, maps, tickets, fabric, and much more.

 Your own deep connection matters

It is the deep connection to place that matters, and the bits and pieces that echo place besides the flora, fauna, and geology: the colors, smells, tastes, textures, and emotions.  These have created how we view and interact with nature today.  It is a good thing to recognize the role they’ve played – and it is a good thing to expand our views when we experience another’s memories. 

 

Click to view larger.

If you aren’t sure where to start, I offer you an exercise developed just for nature.  The 2-page PDF can be downloaded HERE.  One side has suggestions and prompts, the other has my nature poem plus links to the I Am From project website and Facebook page, plus YouTube videos. 

Here is my “I Am From” poem.

I am from
knee-deep snowdrifts, frozen lashes, the searing breath of winter.
Summertime poison ivy rash and itchy mosquito bumps
chasing butterflies and garter snakes
magical fireflies and a whippoorwill lullaby.

I am from
the indigo blue comfort after a midwestern sunset
the musty taste of black walnuts and joyful sweetness of tiny wild blackberries
the bright flash of cardinal and a hummingbird’s glittering eye.
Fluttering spring beauties with tiaras of columbines
and the thrum of bees in the clover.

I am from
The mighty Mississippi,
a languid longing below
the stink of fish and duckweed
and the thrill of snapping turtles.
River bottom land, and banks and bluffs of stacked limestone.

I am from
sturdy oaks and maples,
deer trails and owl pellets
under improbably green new leaves, so delicate, glowing.
Standing in prairie grasses filled with tiny treasures
and the wind in my hair.

 

Media
Aquabee Super Deluxe 6x9” mixed media sketchbook (double spread)
Daniel Smith watercolors
Micron Pigma 01 black artist pen
Sakura Gelly Roll white gel pen 10

On the web:

I Am From Project website:  https://iamfromproject.com/

I Am From  Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/iamfromproject/

 Additional YouTube videos:

I Am From | Celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month by Juan Delgado, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFtXf1bAC-E

I Am From...A Poem by Aaric Pelc, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TVryvxLTIyU

And a collective project by participants of the 2020 Whole Child, Whole Day Social Emotional Learning Symposium:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRM0-fdEJX4

 

A Floridian in Montana ~ I am found and lost again

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time."    ~  Thomas Merton

Upper Terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone National Park

I recently traveled to Montana through the generosity of a new friend, and had the opportunity to visit the towns of Bozeman and Gardiner and then Yellowstone National Park.  My past memories of Yellowstone include black bears begging for treats along a road filled with a line of family sedans from the 50’s and 60’s.  I also vividly remember the colors of minerals in the hot springs, the many earthy tones of rock, and the unforgettable fragrance of pine and spruce needles wafting up from the warming forest floor. 

 

Sketching the page above.

Although I love to sketch, one of my complaints is the process of separating oneself temporarily from immersion to get out drawing materials and begin.  And although I love to share my experiences, it is also difficult to set oneself apart in order to think and write coherently.  If only there was a way to share without that process!  Once started, my hope is that I can regain that immersion, that feeling of connectedness that is unexplainable. 

Along the road in Yellowstone,
this is actually the Gardner River.

Quick composite sketches from
the passenger side of the car.

All I can do now is to point at something that caught my eye and to use my ungainly words and making-of-marks to communicate.  So bear with me… (ha, no pun meant here)…

 

There is something in the geography and geology of the northern west that feels like completion.  That along with the quote above are about all I can say that will make sense right now.  I came home to Florida in time to be present at the death of a good friend, and on top of that my brain is still processing the depth of beauty of the northern spaces of Yellowstone Park. 

Tatanka (Lakota word for bison), car-sketching.

Aspen, skull, rock, and wooden birdfeeder.

Sketching in Yellowstone did enable me to both find and lose myself while I was there, and I am still mucking about in my right brain when I least expect it.  Those handy left brain skills have jumped ship and left me to scratch out misspellings, gape at proportion errors, and wonder why I’ve become non-verbal.  In the meantime, life moves on… and on.  There are cats to feed, laundry to tend to, phone calls to return, and life in general that requires finding myself when I so long to be lost.  Just for a bit longer…

 

Click on any image to view larger.

The two sketchbooks here:

Strathmore Toned Tan spiral sketchbook, 80 lb, 5.5 x 8.5 in
Sakura micron Pigma black 01 ink pen
Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer and General Pencil’s Kimberly watercolor pencils
Niji waterbrush M

Aquabee Super Deluxe spiral sketchbook, 93 lb, 6 x 9 in
Sakura micron Pigma black 01 ink pen
Sakura Koi coloring brush pen (sap green)
Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer and General Pencil’s Kimberly watercolor pencils
Niji waterbrush M

A fondness for ferns

 Only spread a fern-frond over a man's head and worldly cares are cast out, and freedom and beauty and peace come in.  ~ John Muir

With this quote comes a vision of resting in a grotto on mossy rocks, arching ferns casting a delicate tracery of shadows below my feet.  Why are ferns so magical?  Is it because of folklore, its fractal-like intricate leaf patterns, or do we sense the ancient echoes of prehistoric environments?

Fern folklore
An old folklore belief is that because fern “seeds” were invisible, then one could become invisible when these seeds were eaten or carried.  Several inventive and amazing rituals were created to capture these elusive seeds.  An Irish legend reveals that ferns are flower- and seed-less because St. Patrick cursed them for harboring snakes.  The cross-section of the fern stem is said to bear the name of Christ, and thus provide protection from goblins and witches.  The shapes of fern spikes and the lobes of its leaves were thought to provide healing elixirs for snakebite (the spikes resemble serpents), and ailments of the spleen (resemblance to the organ).  More legends, wild myths, and wishful thinking is found in a fascinating text “The Economic Uses and Associated Folklore of Ferns and Fern Allies,” by Lenore Wile May in Botanical Review (Oct.-Dec.1978).

Fern leaves

A fractal is a “self-similar” pattern that repeats at different scales, and fern leaves often appear to be fractal-like.  They are not true fractals as fern leaf patterns do not repeat to infinity.  Drawing fern leaves is an adventure in patience and persistence!  Perhaps that’s why I created only a representation and focused instead on the furry rhizome and the wavy leaf margins of this Serpent Fern.  Ferns don’t produce flowers and seeds like the many plants we use for food, medicine, and decoration.  They have a complex reproductive cycle and spread by spores instead of seeds.  You can look at a visual image of this reproductive process here at ScienceLearn.org. 

A smaller leaf, only about 3 inches long.

Fern evolution

Ferns first appear in the fossil record 360 million years ago, but the ancestors of the species we know today didn’t emerge until over 100 million years ago, when flowering plants began to dominate many environments.  A researcher at Duke University in North Carolina has discovered a unique protein called a neochrome in ferns.  This protein enables them to respond to both red and blue light waves (both ends of the visible light spectrum) and enables them to thrive in the shade of other plants.   You can read more about his study and about ferns and this protein here.  

The fern I sketched is the Serpent Fern (also known as polypody fern, cabbage palm fern, gold-foot fern, or hare-foot fern), Phlebodium aureum or Polypodium aureum.

The scales on this root are a reddish golden brown -
red from the sun?

The scientific names derive from the Greek for:

phlebodium = full of veins
polypodium = many footed
aureum = golden (golden “hairs” or scales on the rhizomes)

This is an epiphytic fern, often growing in the “boots” (old leaf bases) of cabbage palms.  It’s found in Florida and ranges into Central and South America.  It has been studied at Massachusetts General Hospital, Harvard University, and the University of Miami School of Medicine as having chemical properties that protect our skin from damaging UV rays, something Florida has in abundance.  

More: American Fern Society 

A microscopic view of the sporangia

Top and bottom sketches:
Strathmore Toned Tan spiral sketchbook, 80 lb, 5.5 x 8.5 in
Sakura micron Pigma black 01ink pen
Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer watercolor pencils (walnut brown, white)
Sakura Koi coloring brush pen (sap green)
Niji waterbrush M

Middle sketch:
Aquabee Super Deluxe spiral sketchbook, 93 lb, 6 x 9 in
Various watercolor pencils
Niji waterbrush M

Sketching with friends ~ Freedom Park

Ink and watercolor pencil sketches from the boardwalk.

Even though it's July, I wanted to catch up and share a sketching trip to Freedom Park in July with friends. The springtime blooms faded, summer flowers were filling up the nooks of bright green foliage.  This is along the wetlands side of the park, all seen from the boardwalk.

On the opposite page I made notes, and all the memories flooded back...

Butterflies fluttering: flashes of white peacock, the orange and yellow of sulphurs, a gulf fritillary with its silvery underside splotches and orange and brown topside, Florida whites shining in the sun.
Birds seen and heard: cardinals, red-winged blackbirds, a hawk (red shoulder?) patrolling low and calling to another hidden in the trees.
Blooming: creamy ivory pond apple, bright yellow and orange cannas, glowing violet pickerel weed and an unknown heathery-looking plant, dusty pink camphorweed, clear yellow hypericum and primrose willow, small pointy lavender alligator flag flowers.
More color:  the captivating red/bronze/pink blush on the pristine green of young red maple leaves, the clear deep red-brown tannin-stained flow of lazy water, the fleeting sparkle and flash of light and color from vivid red and blue dragonflies, the slower leap of bright yellow adult lubber grasshoppers.
Heard in the background: an opera of occasional bird call underscored with the drone of cicadas, with a background of road traffic murmuring through the gaps.

It was becoming a hot and drowsy day...time for lunch with friends at a nearby cafe!

The above sketch is done with:
6 x 9 inch Aquabee Super Deluxe sketch pad
Watercolor pencils: Mondeluz 12 pencil set
Micron Pigma 01 black ink pen