I'm still in a state of puzzled excitement about that odd synchrony between scientific description and picturesque sentiment. I know the cynical Gordon is closer to the truth than the romantic Rosemary [in their reactions to Burnham Beeches, in George Orwell's "Keep the Aspidistra Flying"], but I don't see that their truths are necessarily contradictory. At school, I was educated as a scientist, and enthralled by the mechanics of life. But I became uneasy about science when I started writing, fearful that in some way it might 'contaminate' my imagination. I kept it in quarantine in a kind of mental biohazard enclosure, taking it out only under the strictest security. But I'm wiser now, and increasingly believe that finding a common ground between respectful, objective views of nature and respectful views of our own visionary images is what 'nature writing' ought to be concerned with. So I dig deep into the biochemistry I once knew, and swat up on what is really happening in the rites of the fall, hoping that it may reveal something about the beauty of trees in autumn, or at least their meaning.
Between September 2010 and September 2011, I lived alongside an Anglican Benedictine community of monks and nuns. In November 2010, we moved from Broad Marston Manor near Evesham to Mucknell Abbey, a new eco-monastery near Worcester. This blog was about things that I observed and things that interested me. I have now stopped writing it. Thank you to all who were also interested.
Friday, 10 June 2011
Nature writing
From "Beechcomings" by Richard Mabey:
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