I’ve spent the last twenty years or so walking, exploring, and writing about the rainforest tracks of Dominica’s hinterland and feel like I’ve come to know every rock and tree. These days, my focus has switched to a less macro and more micro perspective, and it begins every morning in my garden where I wander around at daybreak, observing and recording the comings and goings of wildlife, the appearance of new flowers, plants, or fruits, and the incredible detail of nature. I’m looking at things differently, taking my time to really see.

I’ve also learned to listen to what the garden and surrounding forest are saying. What at first may seem like absolute serenity, suddenly becomes a space that’s filled with bird chatter and the rustle of undergrowth. I’ve learned to identify different birds without actually seeing them, to know what the time is by the position of the sun, and to notice the squeaks and grunts of agoutis as they run around in the bush.

I recall a nighttime wander along the Cabrits trails in the company of Dominica ecologist Jeannelle Brisbane where I was in awe of her ability to see what I couldn’t; especially the snakes that were so incredibly well camouflaged in the undergrowth. And so I’ve been training my eyes to try to do the same and, though I doubt I’m anywhere near her standard, I’ve gradually been able to see my garden in a different way.

Before, I would have missed the hawk breakfasting on a lizard, or the jaco looking down on the garden from a high branch. Instead of stopping, waiting, and observing, I would have breezed past hummingbirds, new flowers, even foraging agoutis, without noticing them, never mind really taking the time to see them properly. Watch how an agouti manipulates fruit in its forepaws, and you’ll get what I mean.

Jeanelle talked about wanting to add real meaning to ‘nature island’. I completely get it. And, combined with the wanderings of the previous twenty years, I’m adding to my experience in new ways, right at home in my garden. Nature island is more than a tag line. It’s something that you see and experience by really looking, listening, and feeling.

I’ve tried to create a space that combines ornamentals with tree crops, and one that’s attractive to wildlife. I think it’s working. We regularly see hummingbirds, agoutis, butterflies, and feral bees which I take as a sign that the garden is a healthy and attractive place to be – for us and for them. If only the bananaquits would learn to share the guavas, the manicou the pawpaws, the agoutis the cabbages, life here would be perfect !

I’ve never seen a snake around, though I know they must be there. So, I’m still trying to get better at seeing the nature island at this micro level. I’m sure it’s just a matter of practice and time.