Build a Habit of Curiosity

 

From the Telegraph article " The unbelievable discoveries I made studying a page of an OS map for a year"

Over the course of my roaming years, I realised that much of what I was searching for on my expeditions lay inside my head and heart, rather than beyond the next horizon. I wondered, therefore, whether I could find challenge and intrigue closer to home. So I walked a lap of the M25 to search for adventure even in mundane surroundings. It turned out to be a surprisingly interesting journey that set me searching for short, simple, affordable escapades – microadventures – that were compatible with busy daily life. 

These weekend rides, wild camps and wild swims are not “better” adventures than cycling across a continent with a tent strapped to the back of a bike (nothing is), but nor are they “worse”. Microadventures are simply a way to maximise the opportunities in your life, rather than bemoaning the barriers getting in the way of your dream escapades. They are about being excited about the possibilities for the weekend, rather than feeling regretful you don’t have months to spare.

I decided to spend an entire year exploring the single Ordnance Survey map I live on. The country is covered by their Explorer series of maps, each covering approximately 20km x 20km, and divided into one kilometre individual grid squares. My map lies in an unremarkable corner of the country, on the outskirts of a city, with the steady hum of traffic and the orange glow of streetlights. But you don’t have to live in the beautiful South Downs or Lake District to enjoy spending time outdoors and discovering new places. I committed to visit a single grid square per week and to try my best to explore it thoroughly. I wanted to build a habit of curiosity, and so concentrated on taking photographs during the walks and bike rides as a way to remind myself to slow down and pay attention. 

I worried at first that the project would be boring. That the area of my map was too small and claustrophobic. That the landscape was too built-up, with not enough streams and hills. That a single map was certainly not enough exploration for an entire year. 

The very first week dissuaded me of those worries. I headed to an unremarkable expanse of marshland that I’d never bothered to visit before. Reminding myself to operate on the principle of what Sir Terry Pratchett described as “The Importance of Being Amazed about Absolutely Everything”, I began snapping photos and scribbling down notes of things to learn more about when I got home. The closer I looked, the more I saw. The more I saw, the more there was to see.

I noticed how much I usually missed when out running or cycling. My phone became my trusty professor – point the Seek app at a plant or creature and it identifies it for you; the Merlin app listens to birdsong and tells you what bird is singing away. I learned more about nature than I ever managed while studying for my A-Levels or university degree. 

Both the randomness and the determination to be curious were important. I anticipated at the outset that I would enjoy the rural grid squares and tolerate the concrete ones. But, in fact, my favourite weeks were those spent poking around forgotten landscapes behind industrial estates, where saplings pushed through cracked concrete and butterflies enjoyed the pesticide-free wildflowers. I loved the silence of the forgotten edgelands outside towns, the surprising wildness of strips of woodland alongside busy roads, and the solitude I often felt in these unloved, ignored places.