Why it Doesn't Matter if You Can't Remember Names

Take it off your worry list

Hello,

I’ve never been very good at remembering names. I’m terrible in social situations and, unfortunately, I’m just as bad with plants, birds and trees.

For someone who writes about nature, this feels like a bit of a failure, but I’m owning up to this one because I have a hunch I’m not alone in this. At least I hope I’m not, or this will just be embarrassing.

Because for every skilled botanist or ornithologist out there, I bet there are just as many of us who just can’t remember the name of that plant, or identify that bird song, however hard we try.

But those of us who struggle usually have a different type of skill that’s just as valuable.

And that’s an instinctive appreciation of nature.

I can let birdsong wash over me and soak into my soul, without always knowing which bird I’m listening to, (yes I know there’s an app for that, and no I still can’t untangle the different sounds most of the time.)

I can see the beauty of plants and wildflowers without always remembering their exact scientific name.

I can forest bathe while being a bit hazy about exactly what tree I’m standing underneath.

In short I can be in the moment and experience nature at its simplest. That’s instinctive and it’s a skill that we all have. And it shouldn’t be undervalued.

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash. No idea what type of gulls these are. But look at that sunrise!

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I’m not downplaying the need for specific knowledge. (And after looking at the photo above I did google this to try and learn the main types of gull.) But my point is that if you struggle like me, there’s still a world out there that’s just as open and valid for us to experience. In fact I’d argue we’re doing exactly what nature wants us to do; we’re noticing it, appreciating it and hopefully passing that enthusiasm to others.

I mean, I’d be interested if someone came home and told me they’d just seen a beautiful Hazel tree. And very impressed if they knew its Scientific name was Corylus avellana (obviously I had to google that). But I’d be much more interested to hear that they’d stood underneath that tree and suddenly noticed how the sun falling through the leaves created a cloud of juicy green that made them feel as if spring had suddenly returned in a rush overnight and filled them with a fizzy sense of happiness. I wouldn’t need to know the name of that tree to understand that feeling.

So while facts and names sometimes slide frustratingly across my brain, refusing to root themselves firmly in, the essential feeling of what I’m experiencing sinks in effortlessly and is easily absorbed. Which is what I choose to focus on and share.

Photo by Vitolda Klein on Unsplash. Bet you any money those children don’t know the name of that plant.

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As children we don’t worry if we don’t know all the botanical names of the plants and trees around us, do we. We just appreciate things as we find them.

That’s not to say we should all stop trying to learn names and species. It’s important and helpful, so I’m going to keep chipping away at it. There are some basic rules that can be helpful to understand. But I generally find I have to actually grow a plant myself before I have any hope of remembering its name. So it’s a looong process. And I’m a lost case entirely when it comes to bird names.

But I just don’t think it should be a barrier to enjoying the natural world, or even to being part of the nature-writing community.

So, if you feel the same way as me, then welcome. Come and sit next to me and we can forget Latin plant names together while enjoying the scent and colour of that beautiful plant right in front of us. Whatever it’s called.

Thanks for reading,

Vicky xx

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