I have an almost mystical belief in the power of art-making to help people fall in love with nature. When you step outside, be it for a major booted-up ramble, or just a bare-footed poke about in the garden, if you don’t have the company of a friendly-neighbourhood naturalist, it can be difficult to find a way in to the whole nature thing.
Maybe it’s the fault of our educations, or too much time in front of screens, but if we can’t identify what something is, the curiosity and marvelling can kind of shrivel up and die right there. But when you set out to find things to draw, the emphasis naturally shifts from identifying to really observing. I’ve always thought that by drawing something, however badly, you automatically form a bond with it and make it your own.