Looking Closely at Prairie Sundrops from the Garden

Everyday I try and spend at least 5 minutes sketching, painting, and journaling the world around me. It helps me slow down, step away from my phone, and really focus on what's happening all around me.

​A few years ago, I fell in love with Praire Sundrops (Oenothera pilosella) on a Father's Day walk at Garden in the Woods (Native Plant Trust) in Framingham and I picked two sundrops up in their wonderful garden shop at the end of our walk and planted them in my garden by a few lilacs, spotted bee balms, and Appalachian sedges. A few times this summer I've taken the time to capture the flowers and structure in my nature journal. In this sketch, everything was done one site with a Fude Sailor Fountain pen with black carbon ink and water color applied with a water brush. 

Here we both are at Garden in the Woods on a recent visit in July 2026 looking at blooming prickly pear cactus flowers near the prairie sundrop flowers.

​When I am at a loss for what to draw, I don't worry about it and take a little stroll outside to look for a leave, plant, or something that might catch my eye and if nothing does I just choose something because looking closely at something is better than skipping a day, especially on the days that have been hard and I don't feel motivated. I've learned that it doesn't really matter what I draw or what I focus on in any particular day. There is something I usually discover or have my curiosity sparked and as the work builds up over days and weeks, I have much better memories and sketchbook pages that I would have if I let everything remain blank. Here is the spread from these two complete pages that contain my sundrop sketch from June. 

What I am most proud of in this spread is the two smaller drawings of goldenrod you can see from June 22 and June 23. Both these days were rainy and I was pretty busy working at The Nest in Canton getting ready for summer programming and camp, 3D printing, laser engraving, and other tasks. I realized later in the day that I hadn't drawn yet, so I just opened the door, sat under the covered entrance and drew a scraggly goldenrod growing up by the building. I've past by this plant probably over a hundred times before this year and never paid it much notice, but now almost everyday I take a couple of seconds to look at it a little bit more and appreciate it. The real gift for me, I've found, of taking the time to stop, look, and draw is appreciating all the little moments of beauty and wonder that often slip by our notice without having to consciously feel like I'm appreciating them, I just am because I've taken the time to stop, look, and draw. 

The late great Warren Zevon summed up this feeling best on his last appearance on the David Letterman show to "You are reminded to enjoy every sandwich, every minute of it."