Next week I’m giving a presentation about my Nature Connection Manifesto, developed during a knowledge exchange project with the University of Huddersfield, 2024. The manifesto highlights the significance of reconnecting with the natural world, for individual and environmental well-being and proposes six actions. In preparation for the Nature Connections 2025 conference I’ve been thinking about how the Six Actions relate to each other. In particular I’ve been thinking about the role of empathy.

I am a professional nature connection guide. But that doesn’t mean that my relationship with nature is effortless. I have to put the effort in, just like other relationships in my life, making time to reach out,  listen, consider other’s needs. I enjoy spending time with nature, but perversely the completion of short tasks (sending an email, checking a budget, coordinating a meeting) can be more enticing, offering instant gratification and a sense of achievement. So, nature connection is an intentional practice that I make space for, even on the busiest day.

I set my intention, to shift from a task-driven way of thinking to a more meditative and open-ended state of mind, better suited to listening to what nature has to share with me. 

The picnic bench invites me to dwell awhile, under the umbrella of white blossom. A cock pheasant paces back and forth behind me, rhythmically calling, steady squeaks, like a foot pump. His colours and markings remind me of the caged birds in the park when I was a child. My favourite was the Golden Pheasant, native to the mountains of China, with a golden crest, scarlet body, blue wings and a stripy orange ruff (like a cape). Now there are feral populations in the UK and elsewhere in Europe. There’s at least one bird in my local woods, though I’ve never spotted him.

In recent years nature connection interventions have become more common in parks, gardens, nature reserves and heritage settings. Their wellbeing programmes range from self-guided activities accessed via QR codes or printed guides, through to facilitated sessions with expert guides. 

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how beautiful the setting, and how well designed the guidance, it’s just not possible to relax and enjoy the moment. Maybe you’re too tired, have a worrying thought that won’t leave you alone, or just can’t switch off your busy mind. 

The woodland soundscape is all hiss and rasp of dry leaves. Birds rustle through brittle undergrowth, foraging for food. Above, I hear the prickly whispers of brown oak leaves clinging on to twigs, in defiance of the wind. There are one or two bird calls, but mostly the forest has an airy, quiet feel, that helps me to breathe a little slower and drop my pace.

It feels particularly ‘heart-warming’ to hear birds calling at the beginning of the year, bringing an optimism about the advancement of spring. After the quiet ‘hunkering down’ vibe of December there’s a definite lift in energy from here on. The robin song is especially welcome, as they start to establish breeding territories in readiness for spring.

This is a time of year when we can feel more isolated and become disconnected from nature, spending more time indoors cut off from the world. Out in the woods, the birds are beginning their mating rituals and the acorns are nestled into the womb of the earth waiting for the warmth to wake them.

Awe is critical to our sense of wellbeing and has the effect of calming our nervous system and triggering the release of oxytocin, the so called ‘love hormone’ that promotes trust and bonding. Awe is also shown to help us keep things in proportion and be little less self-preoccupied.

I am offering free P&P on all sales from my online shop this month

As a visual artist who primarily works in solitude, I welcomed the opportunity to collaborate with other researchers at the University of Huddersfield. My contribution involved sharing my practice of mindful nature connection, using it as a source of inspiration for new artworks.

November feels like a time for reflection, a time for losing myself in sensory moments; a wisp of smoke in the air, or the rustle of fallen leaves keeping me sensitive to the changing seasons.

I’ve always loved the time when day loses itself into night. The ebbing of the light is magical for me at any time of the year, but in February I run contrary to popular opinion in my longing for a bit more dark wintering time. The dark days bring me a sense of comfort, meeting my need to withdraw and rest.

We tend to think that resilience is about being strong, keeping going in adversity, not giving in. Powering through.

But the science proves this wrong and there’s lots of evidence that overwork and exhaustion are the opposite of resilience.

In biology there’s a concept called homeostasis which maintains a constant internal environment in the body to continuously resource and sustain wellbeing. it takes more time and energy to maintain and restore this state if we don’t rest.

it is widely recognised that we are losing the language to describe nature. And if we don’t have the words for it, how will we recognise things like biodiversity loss. Words that describe nature appear less in contemporary literature and film than they did a decade ago as our lives become more urbanised.

I’m always a bit nervous of this question because there’s so much evidence that developing a meaningful relationship with nature can have such a broad range of benefits that it sounds too good to be true. But the scientists are in overwhelming agreement, it really does have far-ranging benefits.

Unfortunately green spaces like parks, beaches or woodlands are not accessible to everyone. For example, some people don’t live near to a green space, or don’t feel safe going there. People may not have transport or money to get to green spaces, or those spaces may not be accessible due to disability or illness.

There is a difference between having contact with nature and connecting more deeply with nature. Contact happens when we walk through the park, but our attention is elsewhere – perhaps planning whatever we’re going to do when we reach our destination, or thinking about a recent conversation. We might even be enjoying the scenery or appreciating the brightly coloured flowers but we’re not really taking time to absorb ourselves in this experience – so we’re missing out on the full benefits.

There is overwhelming evidence from hundreds of international studies that connecting with nature online and outdoors can help improve reduce ruminating and anxiety.

Many of these studies have been replicated in different settings with different control groups and they all agree that being in nature is good for our mood and general wellbeing.

When I first started connecting with nature for my own wellbeing I noticed that sometimes it seemed to ‘work’ better than others. I became curious to understand why; could I create the perfect recipe for ‘optimum nature connection’ – and were there things that dampened the experience - things I needed to avoid?