We don't all feel connected to nature. That's not a personal failing. It's designed in the current system. Background photo: social housing facing a park in Ivry-sur-Seine

We don’t all feel connected to nature.

That’s not a personal failing. It's designed in the current system.

Our ancestors knew the land.

But that connection was severed, through colonialism, forced displacement, borders, eviction, and urban landscapes built to contain, surveil, and police us.

'Natural' spaces in this country are centred around whiteness with their secret codes, and expensive kits.

We're told that if we want to access it, we must exist in it discreetly, only attend in a manageable group size, and wear the correct uniform.

But here's the thing:

We don’t have to pay hundreds of pounds/dollars to reconnect with nature.

Stopping to smile at a rainbow or a pretty sunset. Noticing the light on the river as we walk pass. Dancing while listening to a bird singing. That counts too. And it's accessible to all.

This isn't about pretending everything is fine and we don't need to care about inequalities of access in the outdoors.

In the contrary, it's about remembering that despite the fact that the disconnection was deliberate, the memory of relationship still hasn’t left us.

When we pause, even for a second,

we're not consuming nature.

We're answering a call that never stopped trying to reach us.

Every time we feel the sun, watch the cloud, notice a dandelion growing on the side of the pavement, or stop to hear wind in the trees, we remember: we are nature too.

They can't take that away from us.