Tools

Field Arts tools: A round-up

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As field artists we tend to focus on the tools of paper and ink and color . . . but there are many other tools that enhance our ability to see, study, and record our nature observations. Below is a round-up of my favorite field arts tools. I go into much greater detail on each of these in my book, Master of Field Arts. The Field Arts Discovery Kit includes two of the tools listed below, a Pocket Loupe and a Mini Plant Press.

Pocket Loupe

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In my mind, the well-equipped naturalist and Master of Field Arts will carry two optics tools in his or her kit. The least expensive and also most indispensible is a loupe or pocket loupe. The word may derive from Old French meaning “sapphire lens.”

Use one to inspect the reproductive parts of a flower, the scales on a butterfly wing, or even the edge of your field knife whilst sharpening. What to look for:

- I like 10X power—although you’ll find more powerful loupes, the greater the magnification, the smaller the depth of field (which is hard to use), and with lower-powered magnification, you just can’t see as much detail.

- Glass lenses (rather than plastic).

- Triple lenses, called a “triplet” or “Hastings triplet.”

- A self-cover and a pouch for carrying is a bonus.

The Field Arts Discovery Kit includes a Pocket Loupe; a higher quality option is a $30 Bausch and Lomb Coddington model.

Binocular

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A binocular is the next most important optic. And if you want to be insufferable, insist on saying “binocular” and never “a pair of binoculars.” That’s because a binocular is literally two ocular lenses; a monocular is one ocular lens.

Okay, didacticism aside, let’s get down to why every serious naturalist needs a good binocular instrument for:

- Observing wildlife from a far vantage point without disrupting the animal’s behavior;

- Observing close-but-small subjects such as butterflies and lizards;

- Scanning far landscape features such as geology or plant species;

- Observing very small details (by inverting the oculars).

My favorite binocular is the Swarovski NL 8X32: excellent exit pupil size for great low-light viewing, fantastic field of view, amazingly close focus for the power, and excellent weight for their power. I can wear mine all day and not feel any neck strain, and because of the superb optics, no eye strain. They are, however, very expensive (worth it if this is a tool you use every day, like I do; plus Swarovski’s warranty is excellent and portable with the binocular, so look for them used if you can). An alternative that is the excellent 8x30 CL.

We’ve been Swarovski fans for more than 30 years and remain so to this day. My only minor complaint is their new strap system, which is way too fussy—as you can see, I replaced mine with a simple leather strap, which is far preferable to the vaguely S&M contraption that is stock.

Field Knife

“Back in the day,” as the saying goes, whether hiking, backpacking, canoeing, car-camping, hunting, or doing fieldwork as a biologist, you carried a fixed- blade sheath knife. It was axiomatic that the knife would be your primary tool for dozens of tasks: cutting rope and webbing, field-dressing fish or game, cooking and eating, carving, you name it.

It was also axiomatic that a fixed-blade knife would be the best choice for those tasks, given its superior strength and control over a folding knife, and easy one-hand accessibility right there at your belt.

I favor a knife no longer than 4 inches, with a spear-point blade and a Scandinavian (“Scandi”) grind (the blade holds its thickness from the spine most of the way toward the edge, which has a single bevel extending quite high up each side). These are versatile and very strong. The knife above is my original little LT Wright field knife with a stag handle (no longer made, sadly); today my knife is a 3.5-inch Böker with a leather sheath, made in Argentina.

Mini Plant Press

In the mid-1980s I acquired a 3x5-inch mini plant press from Vince Roth, the director of the Southwest Research Station—he made a few to sell to students and fellow biologists. It’s been with me all over the world, and I love it so much I decided to replicate it and offer through my Field Arts Institute. Press flowers, leaves, and other curiosities to preserve in your field journals.

Field notes, a historical perspective

Field notes in the Americas by Constantine Samuel Rafinesque, ca. 1820s.

Explorers have been keeping hand-written field notes—with or without sketches—for hundreds of years, if not many millennia (on observing many rock art sites, I’ve been struck by the possibility that early humans were using rock and pigment to record their travels and nature information for hunting and gathering, and sharing their findings with others . . . such as at the large complex at the Neolithic Tweifelfontein in Namibia, which includes a large slab map showing water holes and game; see my field notes from this site at the bottom of this post).

A spread from my book Master of Field Arts showcasing the journals of Charles Darwin, Meriwether Lewis, and Thomas Orde-Lees—as well as a page from my humble journal during a weeklong biological survey of the Sierra los Locos, Sonora, Mexico in 2019. [Click to enlarge.]

Browsing the field notes of science explorers such as Charles Darwin (1809–1882), Alexander von Humboldt (1769–1859), Edgar Mearns (1856-1916), and Constantine Samuel Rafinesque (1783-1840) gives us an incalculable wealth of knowledge of the lands they explored and the human cultures and nature they observed. Darwin’s branching tree of evolution (right) with the scribble “I think . . .” never fails to give me the chills.

From the journals of geographer-explorers such as Thomas Orde-Lees, a member of Shackelton’s Endurance crew on the Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition in 1916, and Meriwether Lewis (1774-1805) and William Clark (1770-1838) from their Corps of Discovery, we discover new lands and learn first-hand the astonishing courage and skill needed to push the limits of human exploration.

Their meticulously detailed and illustrated field journals are priceless to humanity, as I mentioned, for their wealth of data, but also as roadmaps of human learning through exploration. Our boundless curiosity coupled with our ability to record what we see is one of the critical attributes that sets apart humans from other species.

Alexander von Humboldt’s journals from his Americas explorations ca. 1799–1800. (from https://humboldt.staatsbibliothek-berlin.de/work/?lang=en)

List of bird species observed by Edgar Mearns (1856-1916) at Fort Verde, Arizona, in 1884.

The Importance of Field Notes Today

Field notes are still critical tools for field scientists and explorers, and yet the practice is waning with the advent of computers and pocket devices with 12-mexapixel cameras. You could say that I have been on a mission for the last several years to not only help save the tradition of venerable classic field notes but to also spread the love of recording nature to everyone—from kids to grandparents. John Muir Laws (The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling) says it best: “Keeping a journal of your observations, questions, and reflections will enrich your experiences and develop gratitude, reverence, and the skills of a naturalist.”

In these digitally cacophonous times that are robbing us of the ability to focus intently on one thing for very long, connecting with nature through careful observation and note-taking is more important today than ever in the past. Keeping a field journal may be the key to healing our digitally fractured minds.

I’ve been keeping field journals for almost 50 years, since I was eight years old and my Dad built me a Stevenson screen stocked with an array of weather instruments—every day at 4 pm I would head out with my notebook to record the daily weather and make notes and field observations. That—along with rockhounding expeditions with Dad and wildflower safaris with my Mom—cemented my lifelong love of nature observation, scientific discovery, and exploration (not to mention I’m still a weather nerd).

Grinnell’s narrative journal page from a 1910 field expedition to Pilot Knob. I followed his method starting in college—and still do, albeit with more drawings and color. I keep a small field notebook for jotting quick notes when I’m traveling or moving quickly, in addition to my larger narrative journal (see below).

When I started studying ecology and evolutionary biology in college, my field notes became serious records of natural history data using the Grinnell Method of scientific note-taking (a thorough documentation style, which included four components: a field notebook, a field journal, a species account, and a catalog of specimens; see right).

“Our field-records will be perhaps the most valuable of all our results. …any and all (as many as you have time to record) items are liable to be just what will provide the information wanted. You can’t tell in advance which observations will prove valuable. Do record them all!”

– Joseph Grinnell, 1908

About eight years ago I started adding sketches and watercolor to my field notes, adopting a more “journaling” style and yet still always including the critical metadata and nature data.

Sketches and data from my journals have been used in several books written by me and my husband, Jonathan Hanson. In 2020 I published Nature Journaling for a Wild Life, to encourage anyone who wants to begin keeping a field or “nature” journal, and in 2022 Master of Field Arts, a sort of “master’s degree” for the next level to becoming a lifelong naturalist and explorer.

Obviously we can’t all be Charles Darwins or Alexander von Humboldts, but we can explore the world around us and make observations and fall in love with the process of discovery.

Time and again I return to one of my favorite published journals of discovery, the superbly readable The Sea of Cortez: A Leisurely Journal of Travel and Research by longtime friends John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts. Published in 1941, it is the full and shared vision of their scientific collecting expedition aboard the Western Flyer sailing out of Monterey. The book is part travel journal, part philosophical essay, as well as a nature journal and a catalogue of species Grinnell would highly approve of. Steinbeck described the purpose of the journey was

to stir curiosity

. . . but my favorite line from the book perfectly captures the larger context of exploration and observation (and recording those observations in our journals):

It is advisable to look from the tide pool to the stars, and then back to the tide pool again.

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Field notes page from our crossing of Botswana in 2019.

Above and below: Studying and documenting a large (and probably 1,000+ year-old) Welwitschia mirabilis in the Ugab River region of Namibia, 2019.

 

I love that my field journal—made for me by my husband over 25 years ago (and my companion on tens of thousands of miles of exploration and field work on five continents) so closely resembles the journal of Meriwether Lewis (right).

Resources for exploring historical and modern field notes:

Start with the Smithsonian Institution’s Field Book Project (scroll to the bottom of the page to access the archives links) at https://siarchives.si.edu/about/field-book-project

The goal of the Field Book Project is to promote awareness of and access to thousands of scientific field notes in the collections of the Smithsonian Institution Archives, and holdings at the National Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian Libraries. It began in 2010 as an effort to bring to light these hidden collections with a goal to catalog 5,000 field books and provide online access to those records, a goal graciously funded by the Center for Libraries and Information Resources (CLIR). At this point, the Project has cataloged over 9,500 field books and digitized over 4,000.

Another rabbit hole to explore is the UC Berkeley Museum of Vertebrate Zoology’s Archives Field Notes collection: https://mvz.berkeley.edu/mvzarchives/

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This post is an update to my 2019 post, “The art of seeing instead of looking: reasons to keep a nature journal”.

Toolkit tips: Power of observation

The power of observation is one of the most important tools in your field arts “toolkit.” Sharpen it regularly!

Here’s an example, which I could have missed had I been just looking and not seeing what was happening:

I noticed recently that when pruning a little scraggly mesquite tree (Prosopis velutina) in our yard that the next month it had sprouted HUGE thorns.

I have to ponder: Do plants have genetic memory?

Prosopis species evolved with Pleistocene megafauna. Are the mammoth thorns in response to predation by mammoths? (Even if in this case the predation was by shears, not megafauna!)

Tips on using a Mini Plant Press

I’ve used my Mini Plant Press for decades to press flowers and leaves and small clippings of stems and even berries.

The Mini Plant Press comes with white cardstock paper, which will work fine for pressing most leaves.

Depending on the moistness of the plant parts, you may want to cut some newspaper or watercolor paper to absorb moisture if the plant parts are more succulent or you want to press berries or flowers that have a lot of flesh.

Tip: in erasable pencil, write on the white cards all the location metadata for your specimen: latitude / longitude, elevation, name of location and page number in your field journal where you will write up details of the collection: any other information about the habitat, nearby plants, anything you think is relevant to your specimen. Even include weather for the day if it’s relevant to, say, whether the flower is open or the leaves are closed up like in the photo above, showing classic nyctinastic leaf “behavior”—the Texas ebony’s leaves change orientation depending on light intensity and temperature. So I would add in my notes that the location was my backyard, and the weather is cold and cloudy.

After you load your cuttings and label them, reassemble your Mini Plant Press as shown, with the rubber bands evenly spaced to ensure compression. Times will vary widely as to when your specimens are dry, depending on relative humidity and the water content of the specimens.

I add my pressed specimens back into my journal (often leaving space for them) either by gluing in with archival-quality PVA glue such as Gamblin’s from an art supply store (works well for small leaves; even put the clear-drying glue over the surface of the leaf to help preserve it). I also save small plastic sleeves and bags in which to slide my pressed items, then glue or tape them in with white gaffer’s (washi) tape. Above you can see a pressed Alaskan fireweed flower in a sealed bag (important! so you don’t accidentally disperse seeds in other environments, potentially spreading invasive species) next to my sketch of the whole plant and a description.

This post is from my Tutorial on the Mini Plant Press: https://www.exploringoverland.com/field-arts-tutorials-list/2021/12/21/mini-plant-press-tips-on-using