Nature does not need a special outing

There can be a funny sort of pressure around enjoying nature.

As though it only counts if you have packed a flask, found a proper footpath and got everyone out of the house before lunch. Or if you know your birdsong, own the right coat and have the sort of garden people stop to admire.

Which is rather a lot to ask of a Tuesday.

One of my favourite things about our garden is actually next door’s garden.

It has been left entirely to itself for years: a huge, tangled mass of brambles and whatever else has decided it would like to grow there. You would not call it tidy. But it is absolutely full of life.

From upstairs, or when I am sitting in our own garden, I can see and hear hundreds of sparrows and other birds nesting in there. Then they fly out and hop onto our trees and bushes, as though our garden is their little café after a busy shift.

I love watching them.

Not because I can identify every bird or tell you anything particularly clever about them. I just like that they are there: busy, noisy, completely unconcerned with whether I have caught up with my to-do list.

In The Garden of Delights, one of the essays from our Wander book, How to See Nature, Paul Evans pays attention to the wildlife close to home — the creatures and small dramas carrying on while most of us are busy doing everything else.

It is a useful thought, especially because nature can so easily become one more thing we ought to be doing properly.

But you do not need a special outing to be allowed a moment of wonder.

It might be a bird who visits the same branch every morning. A bee wobbling around a lavender pot. A weed pushing through a pavement crack. The patch of sky you see while the kettle boils.

It all counts.

And I think that is why this month’s flower frog feels so right. You can make something with your hands, pop it over a jam jar and give one stem a place of honour.

Not a grand bouquet. Not a perfect table arrangement. Just something you liked the look of.

A stem from your garden. A flower from a bunch you were given. Something from the supermarket. A leaf or grass you noticed on a walk.

The point is not to make it impressive. The point is to let something ordinary be lovely for a minute.

That is a very Hummingbird thing to do.

We are learning not to save the good mug, the nice cake or the creative bit for a day when the house is quiet and the list is complete. We know that day has a habit of never arriving.

So perhaps, this week, when you put the kettle on, look out of the nearest window.

See what is there.

You do not need to identify it. You do not need to take a photograph. You do not need to turn it into a wholesome family activity or a new hobby.

You can simply notice that the world is carrying on, beautifully and busily, right beside you.

Then make your tea. Use the good mug. And let that be enough.