This is Bugue Magazine (like Vogue)(and published by Conde Nasturtium)(just kidding)(please don’t sue me). It is a magazine about nature, specifically nature in North America, and even more specifically in our backyards, and often even more specifically than that, my backyard.* Often, it will be about BUGS. I am not an entomologist, though I am a great enthusiast of bugs, flowers, and all things green.
Why might I choose to focus almost exclusively on my backyard? Well, for one, it’s easy. It’s right there, and I already spend way too much time poking around in it, so naturally I’m flush with “content.” But I’m also focusing on it because I think backyard wildlife is FUN, and I sometimes worry that we only pay attention to BIG nature—especially in our current era of climate change anxiety. Wildlife documentaries and reporting often focus on faraway (but important!) places that most of us will never be able to visit ourselves. This isn’t to say that that kind of writing, photography, or film isn’t useful, but I have come to terms with the fact that I can’t personally save the Amazon Rainforest. However I can plant something in my own backyard that will directly support life around me. Not to mention, when given some attention and affection, a backyard can bring the same kind of wonder and awe that those grand, faraway locations do.
So let’s shine a beautiful light on some otherwise humdrum things. Let’s give creepy crawlies the supermodel treatment, starting with the front of Issue 1—a beetle grub in repose in the compost pile. At one point in my life everything about that scenario would have grossed me out: decomposition, old food, a juicy, slimey critter. But after spending some time with the backyard bugs, I’ve grown to love them and to depend on them. My garden isn’t just about what it can give to me— food, flowers, peace, privacy— but also what I can give back to it: seeds or leaves to eat, canopies to hide in, leaf litter to hibernate in, a succesion of bugs to prey on, etc, etc.
A backyard garden doesn’t have to be lush or spacious or even a backyard at all. It can be a front stoop, a nearby park, or even those weird planted medians in parking lots. Trust me, the wildlife is there, so let’s start digging.
*I'm Liana Jegers, an illustrator in California. You can find more of my work here.