St Nicks Ecotherapy: Words from the Wild

Centre for nature and green living

Words from the Wild

Eco book club photo

Words from the Wild offers friendly social sessions for those interested in books, ideas and imagery with a link to the natural world. The sessions are run by Eco Book Club tutor William Davidson. There is no pressure to read the book independently, the experienced tutor picks passages for the group to enjoy as a shared reading experience each week. This is followed by a nature inspired task which the group discuss and then consider as they explore the reserve with the writing still fresh in their minds. Hot tea and biscuits are enjoyed by all at the end! This group meets on Thursday’s 10am-12pm. New for 2021! This group will also be ‘on location’ for some of the sessions, meeting at inspirational places including York Art Gallery and York Minster.


Since the pandemic William and Emma are keeping in touch with participants over email. Each week they send a poem or two, and a nature writing task, along with nature observations that the group have shared with them. If you are interested in joining Words from the Wild or want to find out if this group is meeting in person please go to our main Ecotherapy web pages. Find out what the group have been up to on Emma’s blog here.

Here’s a poem read a couple of times at Book Club as there can be something very comforting in the familiarity of a poem. The poem feels fresh like it could have just been written, but it’s a couple of hundred years old. Read nature poems and art created by our Ecotherapy participants here.

Sudden Shower

Singing Wren

Wren singing at St Nicks


by John Clare

Black grows the southern sky betokening rain

And humming hive-bees homeward hurry by;

They feel the change – so let us shun the grain

And take the broad road while our feet are dry.

Ay, there some dropples moistened in my face

And pattered on my hat – ’tis coming nigh –

Let’s look about and find a sheltering place.

The little things around, like you and I,

Are hurrying through the grass to shun the shower.

Here stoops an ash tree – hark, the wind gets high,

But never mind, this ivy for an hour,

Rain as it may, will keep us dryly here.

That little wren knows well his sheltering bower

Nor leaves his dry house though we come so near.

 

 

This page was last updated 1 Apr 2021