The Journey to Nature Journaling: A Personal Adventure

Looking back on my high school years, I realize just how fortunate I was to have the opportunity to participate in so many exciting programs and trips. One of the most memorable was in 1995 when I joined Bike Hike 95’, a one-month cycling tour through England, Ireland, and Wales with my school. Led by three incredible teachers—Mr. Harrop, Mr. Lambert (who are sadly no longer with us), and Miss Morgan (now Mrs. Danford)—this adventure became the catalyst for a lifelong passion I never could have predicted.

The year before our trip, we spent many weekends training for what would be an unforgettable journey. Just before we left, each of us was handed a journal. At the time, I wondered what I was supposed to do with it. Little did I know, this small gift would spark something that would stay with me forever.

First Journal Bike Hike '95

Our trip began just days after our exams, with our first stop in Manchester, England. Once there, we assembled our bikes, packed our panniers, and set off on our cycling journey. This was long before GPS and cell phones, so each of us was given a book of written directions to guide us. After a long first day, I took out my journal at the youth hostel and began to document everything—the places, the people, the feelings, the funny moments. That first night of journaling was the beginning of a practice I would carry with me on every trip I took after that. I still have that journal today, a cherished reminder of a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

Stonehenge 1995

In 1996, I had the incredible opportunity to join the Environmental Leadership Program (ELP), a four-credit, semester-long program run by Mr. Mitchell (Mitch). This program offered credits in Environmental Science, Geography, Phys Ed, and Co-op. We volunteered with the Ministry of Natural Resources, competed in the Envirothon, learned how to lake water, and even white-water canoe. But the highlight of the program was a 13-day canoe trip through Algonquin Park, where we slept under tarps and were fully immersed in nature.

First Canoe Trip in Algonquin Park 1996

Once again, I was given a journal. But this time, something changed. I didn’t just write; I added drawings, bird songs, and even little sketches. I found myself asking questions like, “What bird is that?” and jotting down my thoughts and observations. This was the moment when I realized how much more a journal could be than just words—it could be a tool for exploration and creativity.

Sunset of Catfish Lake in Algonquin Park 1996

In 1997, I had the privilege of joining Bike Hike 97’, this time cycling along the southern coast of England, through the picturesque Moors. As before, I took my bike, my journal, and my love for documenting the world around me.

Around the age of 18, I began canoe tripping, and the habit of journaling went with me. My journals became a place to document everything: the meta-data of where we were camping, how far we had traveled, and the significant events of each trip. As much as these journals kept an official record, they also became an outlet for me, especially during times when I was solo guiding in the wilderness. They were my way of connecting with the journey, with nature, and with myself.

Throughout the years, I continued to journal on every trip I took. But it wasn’t until I began working in outdoor education that I truly started to incorporate nature journaling into my teaching. However, I struggled to find a way to make the practice accessible and engaging for my students. I needed something more—something that would inspire them to dive deeper into the world of nature journaling.

Then, the pandemic hit, and everything changed. I was introduced to the work of John (Jack) Muir Laws, and it felt like a revelation. His approach to nature journaling was exactly what I had been looking for, and I dove in headfirst. I watched his videos, learned his methods, and reached out to him. To my surprise, Jack kindly responded and invited me to the Nature Journaling Educators Forum. This invitation changed my life.

I immediately began incorporating nature journaling into my online classes, and the results were incredible. My students engaged with the material in ways I had never expected. Nature journaling became a tool for mindfulness, observation, and connection to the world around them. It brought a sense of calm and focus in a time when we all needed it most.

Since then, I haven’t stopped. Nature journaling has become an integral part of my teaching practice, and it continues to inspire and connect both me and my students to the natural world. What started as a simple journal given to me on a cycling trip across Europe in 1995 has evolved into a lifelong passion—a tool for discovery, creativity, and connection to the earth. And I’m so grateful for the journey it has taken me on.