Outside, in the Woods Hole passage, our winter vacationers escape northern ice.
Some gather in lee waters, in flocks, by the hundreds and thousands.
Others gather singly or in small groups, and rest on rocks.
There’s a group of Woods Hole humans that gather on land, inside, on some of these mornings.
“We” are participants in a natural history drawing group, which meets twice a week during the fall, winter, and spring.
We are lucky to be able to learn with a wonderful teacher.
We don’t rest on rocks, we sit on chairs, and we stare, at what is in front of us.
Then we wiggle our fingers.
During these hours there are many periods of silence, of the silence of concentration.
It’s that wonderful kind of in-the-moment concentration, when perception of time stops, when after some hours are gone, and it’s time to go home, you ask yourself, “Didn’t I just get here?”.
We draw insects, leaves, shells, butterflies, plants, birds, skulls, and more.
Mostly we use colored pencils.
“Short little strokes!” is one of our mantras.
(The drawings don’t look so good when visible, distinct strokes interrupt your work.)
Our work is slow, but rewarding.