Trip to Switzerland – Part 3: Learning to Listen to Nature

As I described in Parts 1 and 2 of this series about our journey through Switzerland, we visited the region around Innertkirchen in May 2023. The trip began with a strong feeling that this was exactly where we needed to be in spring.

For this journey, I decided to do something I hadn't done for years. I bought a new camera and a gimbal so I could capture beautiful photographs and cinematic videos. Photography had once been a great passion of mine, but with the ever-improving cameras on mobile phones, it had gradually turned into the habit of taking quick snapshots instead of carefully composing an image.

I missed that slower, more intentional way of working. I missed taking the time to frame a landscape, capture the atmosphere of a place and play with light -just as I used to do years ago- when I developed my own photographs from my SLR camera in the darkroom and spent hours experimenting with exposure.

Before we left, I practised using the gimbal. You may know one: it's a stabiliser that allows you to film while walking without shaky movements. At least, that's the idea. If you haven't mastered it yet, the camera has a mind of its own and does exactly the opposite of what you intended. If you notice a few awkward camera movements in some of the videos, now you know why! My backpack ended up fuller than ever. Alongside my camera, I packed sketchbooks, watercolour paints, paper, notebooks and even my PlantWave; an instrument that translates the electrical activity of plants into music (you can read more about it in this blog post).

I had a clear plan. During this trip, I wanted to think about a new book and explore ways of giving my existing books a new life.

But as so often happens, life had other plans.

In the previous two parts, I described how Switzerland inspired far more than just new creative ideas. That journey set a process in motion that is still unfolding today: from renovating our attic and bathroom to completely changing the way I look at water, light and crystals. It also marked the beginning of this new website, where photography, video and storytelling have become much more important. Perhaps even more significantly, it marked a return to the essence of my work. Less focused on simply creating drawings, and more on understanding why I create them in the first place.

Why did that change begin there?

Yesterday, I was walking through a park near my home. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the trees were glowing with fresh green leaves. It was beautiful. Yet I suddenly found myself wondering why Switzerland had left such a profound impression on me, when nature here is beautiful too.

Then something unexpected happened. In my mind, enormous snow-covered mountain peaks suddenly appeared behind the houses, as if I had projected Switzerland onto the Dutch landscape.

At that moment, I understood something. I felt that same sense of awe for a mountain that wasn't even there.

Here in the Netherlands, we're used to shaping the landscape to suit our needs. We build, dig, move and redesign our surroundings however we like. Switzerland is different. There, nature sets the rules. You can admire a mountain, climb it or photograph it, but it won't move aside for you. And if you underestimate the mountains, you'll quickly discover the immense power hidden in snow, rock and water. We experienced that ourselves when the Grimsel Pass remained closed because of the danger of avalanches and falling rocks.

That changes the way you look at nature.

The Swiss landscape commands respect, and that feeling made me slow down and become more attentive. It was as if all my senses had awakened. I saw more, and I listened more.

Because Switzerland in spring -with its rushing streams, birdsong and the distant sound of cowbells- is one great natural concert. The video below captures a small part of that soundscape: the gentle ringing of bells as cows and goats move through the valley, accompanied by the constant flow of a river in the distance.

Perhaps that is the greatest inspiration I brought home from Switzerland. Not a new painting technique or a new book idea, but the realisation that nature deserved to take centre stage in my work and home once again.

The videos below offer a small glimpse into how this journey gradually shaped the way I observe, draw, paint and listen to the natural world.

I painted Rosenlaui in watercolour after returning home. It took me about an hour and a half to complete, using the sketches I made on location together with photographs of the landscape. The video below is a time-lapse played at around 40 times the original speed.

As I described in Part 2 of this series, Engstlensee was simply magical after an unusually long and cold spring. Ice floes still drifted across the lake, while its mirror-like surface reflected the surrounding mountains. Along the shoreline, white crocuses and vibrant blue alpine gentians had just come into bloom. While filming this beautiful landscape, I connected some of these flowers to my PlantWave to record the music they created.

The two videos below feature the gentle melodies of the white crocuses and the brilliant blue alpine gentians, recorded beside the crystal-clear waters of Engstlensee.

Looking back, I now realise that this journey shaped much more than my memories. It influenced my home, my work and, ultimately, my newest diary and calendar collection. In the next post, I'll share the story behind 'Water A Source of Life'.