How To Write Interpretive Text That Stimulates Your Visitors’ Minds and Hearts

Interpretive text writing for wayside displays, interpretive panels and visitor centers has become specialized during its one hundred year history. On a hiking trail, for example, such text must be easy to read quickly, convey important facts, and inspire an emotional connection to the natural or cultural feature your visitors are looking at. We would be so happy if your visitors fell in love with your site, inspired by the displays we make for you.

Here are some guidelines we at Erica Fielder Studio would use if we were to write interpretive text for your wayside panels.

To begin, we make the viewers experience easy and direct by picking a single focus such a particular old tree at a park filled with acorns. Then we ask ourselves these questions:

1. Does the text describe the theme as part of a larger story? Does it include expanse of time and space, how the site is being modified today, what we can expect in the future?

2. Does the writing evoke a sense of place? Does it help your visitor create an appreciation or attachment to this site? Are there cultural and spiritual values we can weave into this theme that will enhance your visitors’ understanding? Can this theme be presented as part of human history?

3. Does the text help your viewer make connections? Does it include analogies, similes and metaphors that relate to personal experiences and help lead to understanding the theme’s deeper meaning?

5. Does the text engage your visitor on an emotional level? Most of us tend to forget facts. However, when we simultaneously experience feeling, we are more likely to remember facts and their meaning over time.

Average panel viewers spend 43 seconds in front of a wayside panel or other outdoor exhibit so obviously we can’t fill it with all the facts and personal experiences we can think up. However, you’ll want them to gain as meaningful an experience as possible as they jog by. So, the text we write for you is concise and to the point. 

Here is the final text our talented text writer, Maraya Cornell, wrote about the old granary tree at Cache Creek Regional Park in northern California. She used interpretive guidelines to make it lively and personal. The colored text highlights the personal characteristics woven with the facts.

To see more tips on how to write for interpretive displays, view archived newsletters http://archive.constantcontact.com/fs075/1102292071623/archive/1102454491371.html

Speak to Your Friends About Climate Change

The Art of Framing Climate Change: As a nature/culture interpreter, I try to make scientific facts and social issues inspiring and personal so park visitors, including children, can better understand and absorb them. Thus, a workshop for interpreters on Climate Change, one of the biggest challenges world populations have ever faced, provided important tools for my work, and also for anyone who encounters a Global Warming Doubter.

Three reasons many people don’t believe in Climate Change or Global Warming and are not engaged in helping to turn it around: they believe scientists have developed only theories, not facts; they think this is too big an issue and we can’t do anything about it; their values do not embrace the issue and are not negotiable.

Here are some keys for framing a discussion with park visitors and your friends and families about Climate Change so the conversation brings insight.

One: Listen and develop trust. When beginning such a conversation, use eye contact, open body language, paraphrase what the other person says so they know you are hearing their concerns and confusion, ask questions. Keep your opinions to yourself. Simply listen.

Two: Say things such as, “It sounds like you are concerned that we cannot solve this problem.” Or, “It sounds like you don’t believe it is happening because the scientists seem to contradict each other.” Be alert and truthful to what you are hearing.

Three: Tell your friend what you do just in case Climate Change is real. “Some species in our park are disappearing due to warming temperatures so we are expanding our park to include higher elevations.” Or, “I bought a car that gets great gas mileage.” Or, “ Weather stripping my home saved me a lot on heating bills this year.” Note that personal finances and Climate Change usually go hand in hand. Most people are willing to learn new ways to save money. And, park visitors love wildlife and are willing to do what they can to protect it.

  

Mouse-Sized Desperation

For quite a few mornings now I have watched a tiny Brush Rabbit gingerly hop beyond its dense brush pile to feed on the path leading into my garden. I have wondered how such a tiny critter survives this exposure, surrounded by a newly fledged family of Red-shouldered Hawks and who knows what else. In fact, I first saw the little rabbit weeks ago while the foxes still lived beneath my cabin. When the foxes were out of sight, the rabbit came out to feed. When the foxes roamed around…no sight of the rabbit. Another tasty creature, the Dusky-footed Woodrat, who lives in the back wall of my cabin, even used a foxhole, still used by foxes, to access its home, and timed its entrance and exit with precision. This is a glimpse into the precisely choreographed dance that allows all to eat and be eaten at exactly the right time.

This morning I saw the bunny skip into the garden and nibble just below by kitchen window. Then, another joined it. These animals are so small and young looking. Is this second rabbit a sibling, or a mate? Female brush rabbits produce 3 to 4 litters each year between January and May. Gestation takes only 27 days. What a great strategy for making lots of rabbits and the survival of the species. Actually, due to habitat loss, I bet this species is not doing as well as I would wish. I took a few photos and continued preparing my breakfast.

Soon, another glance out the window. The bunnies were gone and, instead, a large tabby cat? I only saw the head beyond the marjoram. Then the head turned. No, a bobcat! Look at those telltale white spots! It seemed quite comfortable in the garden and began sniffing where the rabbits had just been. Then it spotted one and tore after it. No luck catching it, though. That brush pile is thick and protective. Grab the camera. Shoot more pictures.

Erica

From Bunny to Bobcat

For quite a few mornings now I have watched a tiny Brush Rabbit gingerly hop beyond its dense brush pile to feed on the path leading into my garden. I have wondered how such a tiny critter survives this exposure, surrounded by a newly fledged family of Red-shouldered Hawks and who knows what else. In fact, I first saw the little rabbit weeks ago while the foxes still lived beneath my cabin. When the foxes were out of sight, the rabbit came out to feed. When the foxes roamed around…no sight of the rabbit. Another tasty creature, the Dusky-footed Woodrat, who lives in the back wall of my cabin, even used a foxhole, still used by foxes, to access its home, and timed its entrance and exit with precision. This is a glimpse into the precisely choreographed dance that allows all to eat and be eaten at exactly the right time.

This morning I saw the bunny skip into the garden and nibble just below by kitchen window. Then, another joined it. These animals are so small and young looking. Is this second rabbit a sibling, or a mate? Female brush rabbits produce 3 to 4 litters each year between January and May. Gestation takes only 27 days. What a great strategy for making lots of rabbits and the survival of the species. Actually, due to habitat loss, I bet this species is not doing as well as I would wish. I took a few photos and continued preparing my breakfast.

Soon, another glance out the window. The bunnies were gone and, instead, a large tabby cat? I only saw the head beyond the marjoram. Then the head turned. No, a bobcat! Look at those telltale white spots! It seemed quite comfortable in the garden and began sniffing where the rabbits had just been. Then it spotted one and tore after it. No luck catching it, though. That brush pile is thick and protective. Grab the camera. Shoot more pictures.

Erica

Owls Almost Grown Up

Here is another post by my owl rescue friend.

The photo's a little fuzzy, but they're almost grown up. Grumpy like owls, catch their own food, nosy and curious--into everything in their cage. I left a box of kleenex in there and came back an hour later to find one-inch bits and pieces all over the place, and the three of them tucked away in their box, with a who-me? look about them.

Owlets

My friend who is licensed to rescue birds sends this note and photos:

"Well, these don't look too different if you're not right there to compare them, but they are 48 hours older, have a lot more dark feathering coming in, their eyes are opening more, they can sit up with their feet out in front of them, and they weigh a whole ounce more than before. The consensus seems to be Pygmy owls, but the jury is still out. The adult pygmy owls I've had will eat their weight in food every day, voracious eaters and hunters for such a tiny bundle. These guys are eating a whole mouse plus a dozen mealworms each per day."

Fox Steals Shoes In Germany

Hi All,

People have been sending me wonderful items about foxes and other animals. Here is a funny story about a red fox in Germany. Notice how different this fox looks compared to our gray fox.

Erica

Reuters – A fox looks for food along the edge of a farmer's field in a file photo. REUTERS/Andy Clark
Fri Jun 12, 10:39 am ET
BERLIN (Reuters) – A fox has been unmasked as the mystery thief of more than 100 shoes in the small western German town of Foehren, authorities said Friday.
A forest worker stumbled upon shoes strewn near the fox's den and found a trove of footwear down the hole that had recently been stolen overnight from outside locals' front doors.
"There was everything from ladies' shoes to trainers," said a local police spokesman. "We've found between 110 and 120 so far. It seems a vixen stole them for her cubs to play with."
Although many were missing laces, the shoes were in good condition and their owners were delighted to reclaim them, he said, adding that no reprisals were planned against the culprit.
(Reporting by Dave Graham; editing by Philippa Fletcher)

Foxes Farewell, June 24, 2009

Hi All,

A neighbor said he saw an adult fox, with four kits following behind, walking along the ranch road. I am nearly certain this little family is our family of foxes. Foxes use a wide territory and mark it very carefully. The road is well within the range of the male fox. I have seen him crossing this road on his way into the pastures up the hill. He seems to do so quickly and is alert when a car comes along. The last time I saw the little foxes, they had already picked up some of dad's survival skills. Their brains must be like little sponges right now, soaking up everything they can about hunting and basic survival. I hope they can navigate roads and traffic fairly well by now. The highway is a different story. I think it is a rare animal that figures out speeding cars and bright lights at night.

The foxes are definitely gone from the den. There is still a hollow feeling to the garden even though they have been gone for some days. I still run to the window every time I hear a sound. My source says that gray foxes are clannish, and even when the young do leave the parents in the late fall, they associate with each other on a limited basis. This species can live in the wild for 4 to 8 years, so I hope they have long, healthy lives. Below are some photos, more like formal portraits, taken last year by my wildlife photographer friend, Ron LeValley, just before those little foxes left the den. These show what our foxes look like today. (To see more of Ron LeValley's fabulous work and to sign up for a photo of the day emailed to you, go to http://www.levalleyphoto.com/gallery/omw.php and www.levalleyphoto.com/gallery

In any case, I wish the little foxes well: stay away from roads, don't get caught in headlights, never go near dogs, watch out for great horned owls, avoid humans, and don't eat anybody's chickens.

Love, Erica

Climbing Gray Foxes, June 16, 2009

All was very quiet last night and this morning. No sign of foxes. However, I did see the two families of Canada geese on the mudflat this morning. The ten goslings are nearly as big as their parents and have almost all of their distinctive markings. They probably won't fly until they are full grown, however. Flight uses a lot of energy and cannot compete with the energy it takes to grow a bird. There probably are birds that fly before becoming fully-grown, but I cannot think of any right off. Oh, young quail do. Chickens, too.

In any case, here are some photos of last-year's foxes to show what we are all missing with the more nocturnal family habits. Gray foxes are great climbers, with front claws slightly resembling those of a cat. Once one fox discovered this old ladder leaning against my eave, they all scrambled up to the roof. I heard them thumping around and explored for some time. These little guys will learn to climb trees and will be able to leap from limb to limb, then run headfirst back down the trunk.

Erica

Foxes More Alert, June 12, 2009

Hi All,

Well, just as I finished up my last email to you, I heard a scrambling and looked out the window directly behind me. Here is what I saw on the landing to the shed. The little guys are becoming more alert to their surroundings. Notice how the fox in the center caught my movement and is staring into the window. The male does this quite frequently, but this is a first for a kit.

Erica

Fox Brings Food, June 12, 2009

Yesterday I had to weed-whack. I just had to. The oat grasses along the path to my cabin reached the top of my head, and some of you know how tall that is! On dewy mornings I had to don rubber boots, rain jacket, and pants to avoid getting sopping wet just walking up the trail to my car.

I was reluctant to weed-eat, though. Arranging long cords and running the loud electric tool would no doubt disturb the foxes. That is why I had been putting it off, I convinced myself. I did not want the dad to decide to move everybody to another, quieter den.

Anyway, we all survived the noise and, as I type, the little ones are thumbing around beneath the floorboards at my feet.

Early this morning, really before light, I saw the male carry a small animal to the den. I wonder if foxes often take their catch back to the den to eat, or if they only do so when kits are waiting there? Shortly after his return from hunting, I received the usual growl and bark treatment so I ducked back inside.

Now, most fox activity, since mom was killed, occurs at times too dark to photograph. Therefore, I include two images from last year so you can get an idea of the kits' sizes. That mother, like this year's, seemed to enjoy the sunny yard and spent every morning there with the pups. Fortunately for me, and my photo documentation, they both used the spot just below my kitchen window. I know this year's mom was not the same as last, even though their habit was similar. Last year's female had a black dot on one side of her face. One of her kits did, too.

In the Tussle with Tail photo, notice how the mom's ears are somewhat laid back. She looks like she is barely tolerating her tail being pulled and bitten.

Erica

Foxes and Other Critters, June 11, 2009

Well before light this morning, as I stood in my yard listening to the dawn chorus of thrushes and purple martins, I saw a little fox flash past me in a blur carrying something quite large in its mouth. Are they hunting on their own now? Then dad appeared and gave his usual warning growls. I can stand staring at him, and even though I tell myself I know this fox is not dangerous to me, his growl, and especially the bark, make me jump and the hair rise on the back of my neck. His bark always hits its mark as I react from my ancient animal roots: a moment of the raw wild inside me.

Here are the little owlets and a comment from their careful handler: "The baby owls turned out to be Screech Owls, which will be about 6 inches tall when fully grown. They're eyes have opened, and I sent this photo along to all their fans because you can see the milky color of the pupil clearly. They can see a little shadow at this point, but are essentially blind. When the milky look starts to clear in a few days, they will imprint, and hopefully I'll have them established in a cage with my permanently disabled Screech Owl, Click, by then. He's missing a wing (had an accident with a car antenna one night). Click will raise them and they'll imprint on him and know they are Screech Owls so when they go out into the world to seek a mate, they'll find the right one. They can sit up on their ankles now, and they squabble, bite each other, sleep in a big fluffy pile, and eat their weight in minced mice daily. Sooooo cute.
Ronnie"

And here is another treat! About six years ago I created interpretive panels for Manchester Beach State Park. My task was to illustrate the Point Arena Mountain Beaver, an endangered subspecies threatened with extinction by cattle grazing, dogs off leash, and human activity crushing their burrow. This small rodent is only very distantly related to a true beaver, and burrows in the ground in dampish areas. I spent hours sitting beside a burrow hole, bundled against the cold night wind, waiting to see one so I could draw it. Alas, I saw none, and had to rely on blurry photos and a very short, fuzzy video. I actually did not do too badly. My drawings on the panels look much like this little animal. Take a look at the drawings on my website: http://www.ericafielder-ecoartist.com/gallery.html

The mountain beaver is thought to be one of the oldest mammals on earth, relatively unchanged for 40 million years. It does not have a fully formed kidney, as mammals do today.

Currently, a researcher is trapping mountain beavers at Manchester to study, so he sent me this photo. This mountain beaver is being handled gently, but firmly, so it does not get hurt. Once studied it is carefully released where it was found.

Erica

A New World for Foxes, June 7, 2009

Hello Everybody,

Last night I returned home after dark. I walked down the familiar steep path and let my wheelbarrow pull my feet along, enjoying the moonlight. The little area in front of the cabin door was darker so I put on my headlamp. As I unloaded stuff into the house, the light of the headlamp reflected off a pair of gleaming eyes deep in the shrubbery. Fox! I new it was the big male by how low to the ground the bright eye spots were. Then, I heard the growls.

The bright reflection from eyes in the night is called eyeshine. Human eyeshine is red and makes flash photos of us look weird. Other animals, especially those that move around in the night, have it, too, only brighter than ours. Probably the first humans to know of eyeshine were those who huddled around the fire to keep warm and scare away night predators. There were a lot more gleaming eyes watching humans then than there are now.

One night long ago, while sleeping among oak trees, I woke up and put on my headlamp. The grass sparkled with pinpricks of crystal blue lights. What? On closer look, I found I was looking into the eyeshine of night-hunting spiders, thousands of them. I gazed for some time at this beautiful starry sight.

Anyway, except for that first morning he showed up after the mom was killed, I have seen the male fox only late in the day or at night. I think he is nocturnal, while the female and the pups were diurnal. Perhaps the pups have now discovered the world of nighttime, too. In fact, this late afternoon I sat on my deck paying bills when one of the kits came lightly stepping through the shrubbery. It was gorgeous. Supple, strong looking, with a rich rust-and-pepper coat. It went straight to one of the den holes beneath the house, pulled out a dead mouse and began chomping. This was music to my ears! The babies were eating meat and crunching bones! What more could a surrogate fox mom want?

It has been one month since the pups emerged at about 5-6 weeks. I am amazed at how quickly they grow. Since I had no camera to photograph the little fox with the mouse, I am including some photos from last year so you can see what a 9+-week-old kit looks like. No, wait. I hear scuffling outside. There they are! The pop with at least two kits. He looks quite content with the little ones streaking around him in the dim light. I wonder if he is moving them back to this den? Foxes move from den to den quite often.

Erica

Not a Fox This Time, June 6, afternoon

Dear All,

My rescue advisor and Icy Micey source, who has been caring for wounded birds and abandoned chicks for decades and is licensed to do so, sent these words and photos. Unless the bird is too injured to ever heal and fly, she always raises them to be released in the wild.

"These three baby owls ... were found cold and hungry on the ground 48 hours ago. Now fat and sassy, I'm not sure if they are baby Pygmy Owls, which reach a height of 4-5 inches, or Screech Owls which will be about 6-7 inches. I'm leaning toward Pygmy because these tend to be rather boisterous and aggressive, while Screechies tend to be quiet and relaxed. A few feathers and I'll be able to make a decision. They weighed in at 3 ounces tonight; today's special being minced whole mouse topped with sauce of chicken organs and vitamins. I'm running a 5 star restaurant here. They eat every 3-4 hours and I reversed their schedules so they eat during the day and I sleep at night. I'll admit, I'm a little frazzled at the moment, but life here on the edge of the earth is never dull."

Enjoy,

Erica

Chicken Morsels, June 3, 2009

Hello Everyone,

Remember those morsels of chicken I chopped up and scattered for the foxes last Sunday? Big mistake, Erica. Obviously, I have a lot to learn.

Several hours later I peered from the kitchen window just in time to see the last morsel glide away in a raven's bill. Dang. I just committed a very serious offense against nature.

I enjoy Ravens around my estuary. They mate for life and have a language that a very perceptive human could probably learn to understand. Ravens are necessary scavengers, along with turkey vultures, and take care of a lot of dead things. They are beautiful forms and can ruffle their feathers in wondrous ways. I love to draw and paint them.

Ravens, like so many other wild creatures, have been affected by humans. We are a very messy species and leave all sorts of garbage around for ravens to eat, including chicken morsels. This would not be so bad, except that our behavior has led to an explosion of the raven population. Those chicken pieces went to feed more babies.

The snowy plover is a state and federally listed endangered species that typically nests in sand dunes and high, dry beach habitat very close to me. As soon as a baby plover hatches out of its egg, which is laid right in the sand, it must run for many yards to get to the water's edge to feed with its parents. Ravens, which wait for such a moment, often abruptly end this run for life. As a result of both human activities and raven predation, the snowy plover population continues to decline. Very few chicks make it to adulthood around here and there is an effort to educate the public about keeping garbage and other food sources covered. Cringe.

Anyway, the foxes never got the chicken. I ate the rest. Cooked, of course.

Later Sunday morning I went outdoors to load up my wheelbarrow for the trip up the hill to my car. I was delighted to see Little Fuzz eating some food near the wheelbarrow. She glanced up and stared at my feet with a startled look on her face. Whaaaa? I waited for her to raise her eyes to my face to really check me out. As I stood still, she turned back to her food. Look up! I thought. You have to learn to look up! Last year's kits had not learned to look up at this age, either. That seemed very dangerous to me and offered another clue about how vulnerable these little ones are without a parent. I left for the day with a heavy heart.

All was silent beneath the house on both Monday and Tuesday. However, someone was eating the food at the little stations I had set up at three entries into the den. Raccoon? Skunk? I never heard the foxes and so thought they might not be around anymore. I cannot believe how sad I felt at that idea.

Then yesterday I heard somebody under the kitchen. Sure enough, out popped a fox. Here is a photo. Then, Little Fuzz showed up, only not so fuzzy anymore, just little. Here she is eating from a glass pan I shoved into the hole. Both foxes looked well fed and healthy. How were they surviving so well when I was not feeding them regularly?

After dark last night I heard a growling commotion and went out to see what it was all about. With great relief, I saw the big male watching and growling at me as a little one ate from the glass dish. I quickly went inside.

Erica

Fox Mom Feeding Five, May 26, Afternoon

I could not resist sending just one more picture today.

Erica

Fox Report, May 26,2009

I am learning fox language. The mom has several growls with specific meanings. Yesterday she caught a glimpse of me as I took these photos through my kitchen window. I heard a low growl that stopped her pups at play. The second growl sent them racing for cover beneath the house.

Then I watched her pull a deer leg from the bushes, probably from a road kill. At first, several pups, still too young to know what to do with meat, began tugging on the bone. The mom was hungry and seemed to have had enough of puppies jumping on her and tugging at her tail. This growl backed them off some distance for quite awhile.

Bath time is always so sweet to watch. Mom grabs a pup as it races by and begins licking and biting at its fur. The puppies seem to love this attention and show it with blissful looks on their faces. The mom is always very alert, however, and frequently looks up startled with ears perked. Puppies don't like this bath interruption and lick her nose until she resumes licking them.

There is a runt in this litter. It looks to be about 10 days younger than the others: smaller and fluffier. This little one makes up for small with feisty energy, however, and can hold its own. This puppy is often the brunt of hard play, with the others ambushing and pouncing on it. The little guy will have nothing to do with being picked on, flattens its ears, and gives a nasty growl. The others back off immediately. When it chooses to do so, however, it jumps right in the middle of the fray.

Here are yesterday's pix.