Who Am I?

September 9, 2019September 9, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

I was so excited for last weekend’s A Focus On Nature’s “Now For Nature” conference at London’s Natural History Museum. Specifically aimed at 16-30 year olds, AFON is all about young people in conservation. Wildlife isn’t often popular among young people, so having the chance to meet like-minded individuals my age was a brilliant opportunity. From talks by big names such as Chris Packham and Stephen Moss to productive workshops from successful conservationists, the event was an inspiring weekend full of Conservation Optimism.

I was particularly pleased to meet Tiffany Francis. At just 27 years old, she has three books published, which is an incredible and inspiring achievement. Her big break came from AFON itself, where she wrote an article on wild foraging that was picked up by Bloomsbury and turned into a book. Tiffany went on to write her second about British goats – taken from her time working on a farm – and her latest book Dark Skies, released only last week, is about our relationship with darkness and wildlife at night. As well as writing the book, Tiffany also produced all the illustrations including the book’s front cover.

Speaking to Tiffany afterwards, I discovered how approachable and open she was. We chatted like we knew each other; in fact, when I gave her business card she said, “Oh you’re rebeccaonthewing!” which was a fantastic feeling.

I told her about the trouble I’ve had finding a specific identity in my writing and establishing a niche without cutting myself off from other readers. I also suffer from overthinking, which ends up being a real obstacle that stops me from writing. One thing I’d like to try is free writing, where I just sit and let thoughts pour onto the page. I’m hoping that not only will this lessen the inhibiting effect of overthinking but it will also generate new ideas. I’ve learnt that getting hung up about writing means you don’t write.

Tiffany’s reply was that I should just write what I enjoy writing. For a while she had conflicting ideas about her own professional identity. Was she a writer or illustrator? At the time she felt she couldn’t be both, which made filling out social media bios a real trial.

She later realised that she didn’t have to label herself as anything. She was a “creative”, which could mean writer, artist, public speaker and a whole range of other things. I’ve experienced this too, deliberating over “writer” and “photographer”, and although they’re not my greatest strengths, I also love painting and drawing which ties in nicely with nature writing as Tiffany has proven. I’ve come to realise that all these skills come together to form my identity as a “creative” and it is constantly changing and adapting. It doesn’t need to fit in a bio box. Tiffany said all that’s important about your work is it pays the bills, makes you happy and makes a difference. While the first may take a while, I can continue with the second and strive for the third.

Micrarium

September 1, 2019September 3, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

Recently I was accepted onto the Travel and Nature Writing MA at Bath Spa University, which I’ll be starting later this month. In preparation for this exciting new challenge, I signed up for a travel writing workshop run by Peter Carty, who regularly writes for publications such as The Guardian. Although my focus will definitely be more on the nature half of my MA, there is a lot of overlap with travel and I would love to develop my portfolio in this area.

Peter’s workshop was extremely useful, especially the postcard exercise. Over lunch, we were let loose into London with a blank postcard. The challenge was to find a new and intriguing place and write a short travel piece about it on the postcard, including quotes from people we met along the way. As a wildlife writer I’ve had very little experience with interviews, so approaching strangers and getting quotes was daunting but rewarding. I decided to visit the Grant Museum of Zoology in Fitzrovia, which turned out to be a treasure trove of taxidermy and scientific specimens.

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Micrarium

A jar of moles, a penis worm and a dissected rat. These are just some of the specimens on display at the Grant Museum of Zoology. But past the imposing elephant skulls and ominous, pickled jars is an intriguing display of alien-like creatures nobody would notice in the wild.

It’s said that 95% of known species of animals are smaller than a human thumb. The Grant Museum, named after British anatomist and zoologist Robert Edmond Grant, sheds light on the mysterious and microscopic in its Micrarium: a seemingly infinite display of backlit microscope slides that are creatively reflected in a mirror mounted on the ceiling. There are 20,000 slides in the whole museum, but the selection of 2000 in the Micrarium exhibit alone is impressive enough.

“It’s probably one of our more popular exhibits,” explained volunteer Margaret, “We get lots of people taking photos for Instagram.”

I can see why. Step inside this bizarre taxidermic phone box and you can observe minute insects and cross sections of tissues in astonishing and multicolour detail, painstakingly plastered across three walls. Among the specimens are the muscly leg of a flea and a whole squid measuring less than a centimetre long.

“While public displays very much focus on larger animals,” said Jack Ashby, manager of the Grant Museum, “Most natural history collections have thousands of very small specimens kept in their storerooms which are rarely shown to the public.”

Once used for research at UCL, the neighbouring university, the Micrarium now enthuses the general public instead, uncovering secrets of the miniature monsters that crawl well out of human sight. It’s not quite the blue whale at the Natural History Museum, but it’s an insight into 95% of animals on our planet, which definitely deserves a second look.

Deer Walking

January 13, 2016September 18, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

In the nineteen years that I have lived in Hertfordshire, a thirty-minute train ride from London, I have never been to Richmond Park. This realisation dawned on me last week when I was home for Christmas. I was due to return to Carlisle that Sunday, so I seized my last opportunity and invited my friend from Wildlife Media, who lives in East London, on a trip to the park to see if we could see any deer.

I wasn’t quite aware how fiddly the tube journey to Richmond was – the District line is what my grandfather would undoubtedly describe as a ‘tricky customer’. But, after only getting on one wrong train, I found where I needed to be.

Finding the park was another challenge, but eventually we arrived, just as the rain started. I wasn’t sure how easy it would be finding any deer but within twenty minutes we’d stumbled across a herd of Fallow deer (Dama dama) about sixty strong. Not quite believing our luck, we set up and sat hunched in the rain for over two hours, barely noticing the time fly by.

We were positioned by a group of very relaxed bucks, who would occasionally butt heads almost lazily, as if inconvenienced by some extremely important responsibility. Often they wouldn’t even bother standing up, and instead opted to fight awkwardly whilst laid out on the grass.

We were sat by what we thought was Head Honcho, Buck No.1, judging by the size of his antlers. Therefore we were surprised when a buck further away began bellowing and chasing the does around. Buck No.1 did stand up at the commotion but didn’t respond, so led us to believe that although he was a very impressive looking individual, he wasn’t the dominant male in the herd.

When our legs were finally dead and a group of tourists had started to approach brandishing selfie sticks, we moved on. After walking about quarter of a mile, we saw two Green Woodpeckers (Picus viridis) and a whole group of chattering Ring-Necked Parakeets (Psittacula krameri). I’d heard about captive Parakeets escaping and colonising in the wild, but I’d never had the opportunity to see any.

A little further on we asked some dog walkers if they’d seen any Red deer (Cervus elaphus). Just after they told us they hadn’t and went on their way, they called us back and pointed over the hill to a large group of Red stags lounging in the sun.

There my friend and I were, trying not to jump up and down and shriek. Instead, we set up again and began capturing some shots. I was a little more intimidated this time because those stags were big old brutes. Luckily, they seemed to be in their golden years as they weren’t nearly as active as the Fallow bucks.

After a time we settled down for some food, and were joined by a pair of Egyptian geese (Alopochen aegyptiaca), which I’d never seen before. At the time I had no idea what they were, but I was astonished that a goose could look so beautiful.

By then it was mid afternoon and we were both cold and tired, so took the long route out of the park (unintentionally) and back to the station. A good day had by all.