In my nature journaling project for 2025, I am following the Japanese calendar of 72 microseasons (little ‘seasons’ of about 5 days each). I am painting a journal spread for each microseason I identify and writing a little description to accompany it. This year, I am using only art in this journal to convey the changes through the year, no dates and no words on the pages themselves. This is forcing a creative and responsive artistic method, new to my nature journaling practice so far.
Season #3 The Reeds Glow Orange at Sunset
In January, where I live in Seaton, Devon, UK, there is a unique quality of light cast down into the valley at sunset. It’s something about the low angle of the sun, setting over the cliff to the west, producing a play of subtle half-light, orange on a clear day. The local nature reserve, Seaton Wetlands is heavily populated with common reed (Phragmites australis), a problem plant in many parts of the world, but here it is native and home to many rare birds.
As an artist, I have focused many times on these reeds at different times of year, but they excite me most in January, at sunset on a clear day. The photo above was taken at such a time, when the dead skeletons of last year’s tall flowering reeds were dense and not yet flattened into disarray by the winds that arrived later. As the sun sets and the valley darkens, there is a moment when the light hits the reeds on the south side of the path to the bird hide.
At this moment, the yellow-beige dry stems are cast orange. It is particularly effective if there is a slight haze on the day of viewing, common so close to the sea in winter. If conditions are still, the reeds form layered banks with stripes of the past seed heads running along at different heights. If there is a breeze, the sound of the wind passing through dry reeds is one of the most relaxing sounds of winter. Here, it is often combined with the calls of lapwings, teal, or herring gulls.
The Page
The Process
The challenge here was to try and capture the subtlety of the reeds viewed at sunset through the haze. I collect all sorts of interesting papers and offcuts in the studio and have a big plan-chest drawerful. In here, I had some vintage onion skin paper, taken from an old ledger (it used to be used to keep transfer records and also protect pages). Because of its use in the ledger, each leaf has a number printed in the top corner. I decided to use this paper to create the soft effect.
The painting underneath the paper was first done in Derwent Inktense. I deliberately made the painting very vibrant with much more contrast than the reference image, because I wanted it to be strong enough to show through the onion skin paper. The painting was done with a thick brush that tapers to a very fine point, allowing plenty of paint to be stored in the brush but also the painting of thin lines.
When the painting was finished and dry, I used EVA glue to very carefully glue two separate leaves of the onion skin paper to the join between pages at the spine of the journal. Two separate leaves were used to avoid any bubbling or accidental wonky alignment of pages. It also makes it easier for a viewer to lift each page separately to see the painting underneath, without risking tearing or pulling away a single sheet from the spine.
The Video
You can watch the process of creating this painting, including a look at the practice pages, at the start of this vlog (from 2:30).
Want to have a go yourself? The Nature Journaling Circle membership is a welcoming space for you to learn field sketching and other nature journaling skills with me. There’s a monthly live tutorial and a social session, plus access to all my pre-recorded video courses and a community of lovely nature journalers from around the world. If that’s something you might be interested in, consider joining us here.
