A sketchbook that fits in a coat pocket

There is a particular pleasure in carrying a small sketchbook through a British autumn. A pocket-sized book — roughly A6, with a hard cover and an elastic band — slips into a waxed jacket or a canvas bag without fuss. It asks nothing of you. You are not making a masterpiece; you are keeping a seasonal record. The aim is to notice one leaf, one feather, one seed head at a time, and to let pencil and watercolour slow you down. This is nature writing with pictures, and it belongs as much at the kitchen table as it does on a windswept walk.

Gathering a simple kit

You need very little, and the simplicity is part of the charm. A small tin, a couple of pencils and a brush are enough to begin. Keep everything in a pencil case so the habit is easy to pick up.

• Pocket sketchbook: choose one with paper around 200gsm, cold-pressed if possible. It will take a light wash without buckling too badly.
• Pencils: an HB for fine line work and a 2B for softer shading. A 4B is useful for dark feather tips or the shadow inside a curled leaf.
• Watercolour tin: six half-pans are plenty. A good starting set might include yellow ochre, sap green, burnt umber, ultramarine, alizarin crimson and a warm yellow.
• Brush: a water brush is ideal for field work, or a size 6 round synthetic brush for the table.
• Extras: a small piece of kitchen roll, a jam jar lid for water, and a fine black or brown fineliner if you like a little definition.

Line work: leaves, feathers and seed heads

Start with pencil, and start lightly. Pressing hard too soon makes the drawing stiff and hard to correct. For a leaf, mark the central vein first, then the outer shape, then the smaller veins that branch away. Oak leaves have rounded lobes; beech leaves have silky edges and strong parallel veins; sycamore leaves are broad and palmate. Draw the edge as a series of gentle curves rather than one continuous line.

Feathers reward patience. Begin with the central shaft — the rachis — then block in the overall shape. Work from the tip downwards, using short, overlapping strokes for the barbs. A pigeon feather is soft and grey; a jay’s is barred with blue and black. Keep your pencil lines in the direction the barbs grow. For seed heads, look for structure: honesty has flat, translucent discs; teasel is a spiky egg; poppies are little pepper pots with a crown. Draw the stem first, then the head, then the individual seeds or spikes. Leave plenty of white paper for light.

Light washes and seasonal colour

Watercolour should be transparent, not muddy. Mix weak puddles on your palette and test them on a scrap of paper before touching the sketchbook. For a green leaf, lay a pale yellow ochre wash first, let it dry, then float a little sap green over the top. Add a touch of burnt umber near the stem for depth. For autumn colours, try yellow ochre with a hint of alizarin crimson, or a weak wash of raw sienna. Feathers need very little paint: a grey mixed from ultramarine and burnt umber, applied thinly, is often enough. Seed heads are mostly about tone — a soft wash of sepia or violet-grey behind the pencil lines can suggest shadow without hiding the drawing.

Work wet-on-dry for control. Let each layer dry completely before adding the next. If you want a soft edge, touch a clean, damp brush to the wash while it is still shiny. Avoid scrubbing. One light wash that dries cleanly is worth three heavy ones. Leave the white of the paper for highlights: the gleam on a holly leaf, the pale edge of a feather, the papery tip of a seed head.

Words alongside pictures

A sketchbook becomes richer when you write in it. Note the date, the place and the weather: “14 October, lane behind the church, first frost, robin calling.” Add the name of the tree or plant if you know it, and a question if you do not. This is where bookish living meets nature writing. You might copy a line from a poem or a nature diary that fits the day, or simply list the books you have been reading alongside the season. Keep a commonplace book feel — no need for neat handwriting. The point is to remember the moment, not to produce a fair copy.

A gentle weekly habit

Choose one object a week and give it ten minutes at the kitchen table. In winter, draw an evergreen sprig or a dried teasel. In spring, a catkin or a fallen blossom. In summer, a grass seed head or a rosehip. In autumn, a leaf from the pavement or a feather from the park. Do not chase finished pages. A single sketch, a wash and two lines of writing are enough. Over a year, those small entries become a seasonal archive — a quiet, bookish record of British home life and the weather outside the window.