Sarah Spencer believes that all living things share natural principles that allow them to grow, stay healthy, be adaptable, develop resilience, become connected and pass on what they’ve learned. She maintains that if we can learn to access the wisdom of the forest we can live happier, healthier and more productive lives ourselves. Today, she tells us a bit more about her work and outlook on life...

The Think like a Tree programme was created as a practical and accessible way for anyone to harness the wisdom of the natural world, and apply it in their own life.

Whilst designing landscapes, gardens and woodlands, I realised that the same principles that make natural ecosystems so successful and enduring could be applied to our own lives. There are a set of natural principles that all living things share, and by looking at these principles, through the lense of trees, we get back to the basics of what is really important in life, like growth, resilience, health and positive relationships.

We share a common ancestor with trees (about 2 billion years ago!), so these are the fundamentals of life.  But trees have had a 280 million year head start in solving the problems that life throws at us, so we would be foolish to ignore all that evolutionary wisdom. 

Think like a tree came into being following my own struggles with ill-health and coping with it forced me to re-evaluate my life and how I can live a fulfilling life, but within my own limits.  And I took a long hard look at how my environment was affecting me, both in terms of my immediate surroundings and the wider world.   I decided I needed to start living more consciously, both in terms of my own wellbeing but also that of the people and other living things around me.  This way of living radically improved my life, allowing me develop my own unique solutions to my problems, and regain my health from a low point of spending over a year in bed.

The principles are taken from permaculture, a nature-inspired design system, and biomimicry, which uses nature to design products and find technical solutions.  And some of them are simply observed whilst I was walking in the woods. 

Once I embarked on this process people kept asking me about it and so I developed the courses where I live in woodlands in South Derbyshire to share my learning.  I am now also working on an online course and a Think like a Tree book, to be published next year.

I'm guided by the natural principles every day - they are really easy to follow, you can observe them in your immediate surroundings and you interpret them in the way that’s relevant to you.   Anyone can do it!   If you see a dandelion pushing through the cracks in the pavement it has something to teach you about resilience and determination. A tree that harbours an ecosystem of insects and birds can teach us a lot about developing co-operative relationships.  Some of those that I use every day are “slow and small solutions” that help me achieve my goals in a more effective way; “use your energy where it can have the most effect" guides me to focus my attention on the important things, and not waste time on the pointless ones (like overthinking things);  “value diversity” helps me to see the good in everyone I meet, when so often it’s easy to gravitate away from those who are different; and my personal favourite is “use your edge” which reminds me step out of my comfort zone and take risks, because that’s what allows exciting new things to happen.   That’s exactly what a birch tree does when it colonizes new ground.

When I teach shorter workshops I can see that even after an hour’s session lightbulbs start going on and I get reactions like “I’ve never thought about it like that!” or “I’d no idea I had so much in common with trees!”  “I didn’t realize what I was feeling is perfectly natural!”.  I think people like the fact that this is about learning from the natural world, and goes beyond simply enjoying the benefits of being in the outdoors (of which of course there are many).During the six week course we go into the principles in depth and the more people engage the more benefits they get.   It’s called Think like a Tree for a reason – you really do have to think!  The feedback has been overwhelming.

The full course follows a 12 step design cycle that allows participants to design for their own unique circumstances, incorporating the principles each week.  So far people have used it for designing a career move, their retirement, their health, their confidence and wellbeing, and to design ways to support others.   But essentially it can be used for every circumstance, from corporate culture, to bring up children. I like the unique approach – every tree is unique so why should we think that a one size fits all method should work for our own problems?

Many people have busy and stressful lives these days so it’s understandable that getting out in nature is not always a priority.  But mindsets are shifting as to the benefits to health and wellbeing, and that is a great motivator.  Usually it’s the thought of getting outside that is the hurdle and when we do we love it.  If you ask people about their most exhilarating moment, when they felt the most alive, it’s usually in the outdoors – like seeing an amazing sunset, or even sitting round a campfire enjoying the company of others.  I wish we could bottle that feeling and sell it!

With all that in mind it’s important to find a way to incorporate contact with nature in your routine, by simple switches, like substituting going to the gym for a going for a walk, or walking to the shops via the park rather than driving.  I love gardening, and seeing new life emerge from tiny seeds at the same time as my own energy levels rise in the spring is exciting (and I get to eat the results!), but each person can find their own sweet spot of wellbeing or their “flow”.  I can guarantee it doesn’t happen sitting at home in front of a screen.

Young people are growing up in a world where they don’t have the freedom or the exposure to the outdoors in the same way as in the past, and they have many more pressures.  I trained as a Forest School leader and initiatives like this are making fantastic strides, but if you grow up divorced from the outdoors you risk becoming scared by it.  There are many children and adults who fear the outdoors, and don’t like getting dirty, and that makes me very sad.

It’s a societal problem – billions of pounds are being spent encouraging people to spend their weekends in shopping centres, and very little encouragement is given to being outside (which is free), essentially because big corporates are losing money every time we do so.

Parents, schools and the government all have a role to play in giving young people a reason to get outside, and from that they can learn to gain enjoyment and find purpose from it.  Children are also very capable of learning from the natural principles and a good one to start with is “feed your roots” asking them what that might mean in making sure they are growing up healthy and strong.

There are some great ways to start thinking more like a tree:

• Get out in nature every day.

• Observe the patterns in nature and in your own life – sleep, food, exercise, energy.

• Think about your core values. Trees have a strong purpose and people are happier when they have purpose too.

• Improve your surroundings – small and slow solutions every day.

• Nurture your relationships.

• Embrace change and challenge – develop resilience.

• Think for the future - every tree that has ever lived has contributed to the creation of the soil and the abundance of our planet, so never think your own actions can’t change the world. Just make sure it’s in a positive way.

 

Further Details

Six week courses take place in south Derbyshire, at Sarah's smallholding and at Whistlewood Common, a new community woodland social enterprise that runs practical courses on a wide range of sustainable subjects.  The woodlands are in the National Forest in a beautiful location in the heart of England.  Sarah can also tailor workshops to corporate or other groups and schools. She will also be running a free workshop at Timber Festival, 6-8 July.

For more information and to sign up to the email list see www.thinklikeatree.co.uk or follow on Facebook or Instagram @thinklikeatree where Sarah regularly posts interesting things about trees.

Ancient landscape:
your stoic features
whisper renewed wisdom
with every tidal
turn.
 
Your craggy coastline
Immovable stone
and dancing flower
a living monument
to contradiction.
 
Expansive, far-reaching
and without
perceptible limit;
you simultaneously manage
to serve
as the very symbol
of boundary:
 
An end,
a finish,
a full stop:
a literal
punctuation mark
on a pock-marked
landscape.
 
Perhaps
(perhaps)
It is because
of this
 
strange
 
binary
 
magnetism
 
that we
are so drawn
to the ends of the earth
to feel so small
in your presence.
 
There are many types of landscape
In which to lose oneself
but it is coastal terrain
that delivers
the most evocative
of escapism.
 
You guide me;
yellow gorse flower
on either side
of a stony track
guides my soul
as I approach
your extremities;
my feet feel as if
they have walked this path
in different times,
through different bodies.
 
I stand before you
suddenly very human
 
frail
 
insignificant
 
and feeling
that contradiction
deep inside of me
as saltwater dances on the breeze
with an alchemy
conjured up
by eternity Herself.
 
I am free.

Food provides the human race with a common ground. It's a basic human need that is essential for our survival.  How we source, produce and cook our food is different for us all but it's becoming a global interest in how we can do it better, with less impact and more consideration. 

I've been Vegetarian for 20 years and over the last year, I have been making a switch to becoming a Vegan. This is how I've been doing my bit for the world.  Food is my second most favourite thing  (after adventuring) and I'm always ecstatic to meet people who cook in different ways.  I carry around a mental notebook of these culinary influences and add them to my own pallet.  My favourite type of food includes spoonfuls of ethics, pinches of seasonality, plenty of slow and packed full of flavour and colour!

I had a joyful foodie experience recently during a glamping retreat, where I met Barney from Infamous Catering.  He cooked a 3 course Southern Indian Vegan curry, with freshly foraged goods for a group of ladies, who'd spent the day climbing up waterfalls and exploring dark caves. Our appetites were incredible!

Barney's pots and pans were giving off some seriously good aromas as he leisurely stirred his concoctions.  Next, the freshly foraged wild garlic was crushed and chopped and added to our appetizers. My mouth is watering now thinking back to his generous portions, as he piled them high on our eager palates.  He looked relaxed and at home in the camp's kitchen, telling us what fueled his passion for cooking and his love for seasonal foods.  I like to think there are more and more people in the world who care about where their food comes from, how it's produced and showcasing this with easy to cook, and lots of love enthused meat-free dishes. 

There's something incredibly special when there's a moment of silence during meal time as we take time to appreciate what's in front of us. Our visuals took in the rich colours of the mild curry and dahl, our nose inhaled those slowly cooked spices and our taste buds indulged in a feast.  I dipped my fingers into the freshly made chutneys-enjoying their sweet taste combined with the savory popodoms.  We broke out into chatter about the day's events and how delicious our food was.  We proposed a toast with locally brewed beer and apple juice made in the Wye Valley, before tucking into a peanut butter and dark chocolate cake. The last piece saved, for Barney's partner as an apology for using up the last of the peanut butter! 

When our food comes from an honest and ethical place, I think there's no better taste.  The concept of slow food, like slow living, is a movement which is educating the world for the better.  Knowledge is power as they say.  I am really thankful to those who want to invite the world to try another way. It's not easy breaking away from traditions and cultural habits but for the sake of our future, change is welcomed on my plate. 

Note: this is a sponsored post. I received this delicious meal whilst glamping at Hidden Valley Yurts. All 'mmms' were my own. 

You can find more at:

www.hiddenvalleyyurts.co.uk

www.infamouscateing.co.uk

Nicola:  You are a new Mum, artist and seasonal explorer who went from burnt out city girl to a slow living advocate in the countryside.  Can you tell me more about this journey?

Becky:  I’ve always craved connection, but it was only when I moved to the farm a few years ago I truly found it. Before then I struggled by in the city feeling a bit lost and very disconnected from my surroundings, my creativity and my health.

When I made the move to Broughgammon Farm to live with my then boyfriend (now husband) it was a huge leap of faith, but it paid off.

Through working and living on the farm I began to get interested in gardening, the seasons, slow food and living naturally. I began to meal plan, swap all my skincare and makeup to natural options, minimise my wardrobe, as well as paint again and I shared these breakthroughs on my blog.

As well as giving me a sense of connection and peace, this more anchored, slower and natural life has been beneficial in healing my autoimmune condition. I’m now aware of how little we need to be happy, how the small things can bring so much joy and how powerful nature is!

I’ve also just become a mum and I’m excited to share this beautiful country life with my son and learn the art of slow motherhood!

Nicola: You approach life from a holistic angle, from what’s on your plate to the products you use on your skin, and even what’s going on in your mind. Can you tell me more about how you incorporate this into everyday life? 

Becky:  The concept of slow living sums up how I aim to live. It’s about taking time to reconnect with nature and our surroundings every day, and about bringing a sense of ritual to the little things.

Even on chaotic days I like to do something small to bring me back to the moment and to nature.  It could just be picking fresh flowers from the garden to put beside my bed, or using lavender essential oil to help aid sleep at night. I’m always thinking of how I can be more present and natural, and remembering to take the time to breath in the beauty of the day.

Nicola:  I’d love for you to tell us about the courses you run?  Who they are for and what it is you teach?

Becky:  I run an online course called Natural Living that teaches people how to rekindle their connection with nature and live a more natural life. It has lots of lovely projects, from blending herbal teas to making your own natural skincare. It shares everything I have learnt over the past few years that’s had a powerful and transformational effect on the quality of my life and health. 

I also organise artisan slow-food classes here on our farm (Broughgammon Farm). We teach everything from foraging to cheese making. 

Nicola:  Can you tell me about your podcast and the message you share?

Becky:  I have a podcast called Nature & Nourish, which chats about how we can live a more connected and slower life in tune with nature. I celebrate each month with a podcast episode dedicated to it. This helps me remember which food is seasonal, what events are happening and what I can look out for in nature.

Other topics covered include living mindfully, the environment and everything natural!

Nicola:  You live in a little seaside town called Ballycastle on the North Coast of Ireland.  Can you tell me more about where you live and what a typical day in your life is like?

Ballycastle is such a gorgeous place to live; it’s a cheery seaside town that has retained its sense of community. Everyone knows everyone and I love that! I

depend hugely on my local town for running shopping errands, going to the library, baby classes and also showcasing my paintings in the local gallery. We live just outside of the town on our ethical farm surrounded by fields. I love having this space as it fuels my creativity.

A typical day in my life is varied especially since becoming a Mum, although it usually contains plenty of tea, gardening, writing and brainstorming future plans with my farmer husband. 

We’re aiming to become more permacultural over the next few years and possibly build an eco house!

Nicola:  And lastly, if someone reading your story were inspired to follow their own creative dream, what advice would you give them?

Becky: Don't wait for the perfect time. I’m a big believer that we should live in the moment and live for today. When I made the break from the city to the countryside it certainly wasn't ideal timing, but on reflection I wish I’d done it sooner! Perfectionism can really hold us back, but if you have a dream you should make steps towards that right now!

You can find Becky on Instagram.

A Gur (Yurt) has been a distinctive part of nomadic living, especially to Central Asia for at least three thousand years.  Perhaps one of the most famous men in history, Genghis Khan, was known for describing a number of significant events related to Yurts.

These large round spaces were designed to be easily moved. They were simple in design yet sophisticated in the build.  A yurt is made out of wooden and felt structures and would have provided spaces for cooking, cleaning and a communal area for an entire family away from the harsh elements outside.  Tradition meant that the western side was considered the male dwelling whilst on the eastern side, women would work and live. Despite this cultural divide, they would have all shared the heat from a wood burning stove, with a long-reaching chimney.

Recently, I was lucky enough to stay at Hidden Valley Yurts, based in a quiet valley consisting of 80 acres of land in South Wales.     There were 5 original Mongolian yurts, each hand painted by just one person! The attention to detail was fascinating. I adored the original features such as a Mongolian bed (dubbed the princess bed by younger guests) and my oh so comfortable dwelling for the week. 

Each morning, the light-flooded in by a skylight, a natural prompt to explore the new day. The opening also allowed the burner's smoke to escape. It was probably one of my most favourite features. There’s something calming about being woken up by the sun and guided off to sleep by the moon. My body felt in sync with the natural rhythms of Mother Nature.

The gentle curves of our yurt’s space encouraged us to all sit together and talk until the small hours of the morning, whilst sharing the warm glow from the fire. With no TV, limited phone signal and any other modern-day distractions. It was a chance to just switch off, be in the moment and get back to basics with our natural surroundings and fellow humans.

Something we all need a bit more of and often.

I feel that our modern homes with man-made materials, dividing walls and doors seem to cut us off entirely from the natural world, and can disconnect us with those only next door.  I'm thankful that Yurts like these are still around to enjoy and help to give us a fresh perspective on just how important communities have been and always will be.

Disclaimer: this is a sponsored post. Whilst I haven't been paid to write this post, I was asked to stay at Hidden Valley yurts in return for my honest views. 

For glamping in the Wye Valley visit: www.hiddenvalleyyurts.co.uk

Making artwork is how I see and feel the world that surrounds me. Pressing the tip of a brush to paper, feeling the subtleties of my materials, putting down just the right colour… this is what helps me to understand. The act of creating helps me to reflect upon and learn from my experiences. It is a quiet and thoughtful process of working with my hands, mixing colours, and painting or printing. These actions are what allow me to move through the difficult and joyful things in my life.

A little over a year ago, my mum was diagnosed with cancer. Between that day and this one, countless complex and multi-layered experiences have taken place. When I look back on that time, the feeling of watching the seasons pass by along the road stays with me. I spent countless hours, feeling everything so intensely, and travelling back and forth between our cities of Ottawa and Montreal, Canada.

Since then, my feet have carried me steadily back to the studio and to making. As I navigate this time of grief and loss, I find myself creating a series based on the photos, sketches, notes, and memories of the drive between our two cities.

“Roadside Fog”, Between Cities series. Hand-made screenprint on paper.
 

When I think back to her diagnosis, I see the subdued browns, greys, and muted purples of the November landscape. I had never fully realized their beauty before. There is a phrase here, in Quebec, that is used to describe this season, “sous la grisaille” which means “under the greyness”. Somehow this makes it a beautiful season in itself. Overcast days cast a soft light and bring out muted palettes of mauves, browns, rust reds...

This is the colour palette that marked the beginning of many trips back and forth between the city where I live now and the city in which I grew up. I remember groupings of hazy trees in a wealth of muted earth tones. Forests without leaves. I close my eyes and see corkscrew shrubbery, roadside grasses in yellow ochre, and the surprise sprinkle of a bright red berry.

This project has been for me a healing journey of reflection and of working with my hands. As I create each landscape, I feel a little more strength. It is almost as though each piece forms a gentle stitch, repairing a wound.

“Winter Grasses”, Between Cities series. Hand-made screenprint on paper.
 

When I think of hospice visits, I think, too, of blue shadows on dazzling sunlit snow-covered farm fields. I remember icy boughs bending beneath their weight. Sparkling fields, crisp, clean lines. Evergreens topped with mounds of snow. A hushed silence and a sense of uncertainty. Would it be days? Weeks?

I have wondered at the marvel that is memory. At how clear certain snippets can be, and how hazy others. The specifics can become mixed or unclear. What we are left with is a sense of place, of colour, of light, and a few highly-rendered details.

I have thought much about the forward movement of life. The forward movement is, and was, almost visible in its relentless march – at times slow, and at times slipping too fast.

“Flooded Gardens”, Between Cities series. Hand-made screenprint on paper.
 

It seemed unstoppable as we moved into the summer of last birthdays. The verdant grasses and trees after summer rains. Bands of highways criss-crossing a sea of green. I think of rainy hydro corridors and of trees in the wind – their leaves turning up to reveal pale undersides. The stormy rain-saturated clouds of late summer. A red canoe. Overflowing gardens.

“Green Highways”, Between Cities series. Hand-made screenprint on paper.
 

And, finally, we come to the quiet afterward. With this, came fall leaves crunching underfoot and blowing onto roadways. The garden tidied and tucked in for the season. Empty nests in treetops, chimneys dotting rooflines, the blur of passing highway barriers. I think of hard-specked rain drops blown in gusts of wind, and of softer rainy-day fog. I feel the cooler winds on my face and hands. Warm sweaters. Yellowed grasses, and a lone tree standing amid harvested and flattened fields. The landscape readying itself for winter.

I was left with a sadness, uncertainties… and the memory of a year of back-and-forths between two cities.

“Dusk farm”, Between Cities series. Hand-made screenprint on paper.
 

Since then, there have been many days passed quietly in the studio – mixing the colour palettes of my memories. I have come to realize the many delicate nuances contained in the colour gradations of the natural landscape which require great care to capture.

This series, as with much of my work, is not about landmarks or glamourous subjects. Instead, it ponders small scenes that caught my eye and stayed in my memory. Small moments like these seem to be the very essence of living, for me, and they are deeply meaningful. When I think back to a place or an experience, I most often find that what I’ve been left with is a series of snippets: the dazzling light of summer, the smell of the earth right before it rains, the feel of textured concrete beneath my palms.... These are the things that bring back a particular moment in time for me and, in turn, the larger experiences and stories that took place around it.

As wet, bare branches reach into grey spring skies, I can feel a breath of air. The beginnings of coming through the other side of something. As I look toward the future, there is a quiet sense of possibility, and of hope for what lies ahead.

Visit Michelle's website, or follow her on Instagram. All artwork by Michelle Darwin - prints available here. 

Nicola:  Can you start by telling us about The Home Paddock and how you came to start your own business?

Sarah:  I’ve always had a strong desire to own a little business of my own. As a teenager I wanted to have a shop filled with rustic furniture and beautiful things. I had a lovely dream of spending my days restoring furniture and arranging the shop to look amazing! Reality is a big leveller, but the desire to have a creative business never left.

Over the years I have had an endless string of ideas that never felt quite right or got off the ground. I had started making children’s clothes under a label called Clancy and Belle, but when I fell pregnant with Eleanor (now 5 months old) I quickly realised it wasn’t a sustainable venture. So instead, inspired by the very talented Rebecca Desnos (@rebeccadesnos), I began to dabble with natural dyeing as it was more flexible and family friendly. I am now totally hooked!  

I rebranded my online store to The Home Paddock, in reference to the farm/country location and my products being for the home. Everything fell in to place and I had a positive response to my launch just before Christmas last year.  I have been dyeing non-stop since.

Nicola:  I know you come from a family of makers and that you learnt botanical dyeing from your Grandmother.  Can you tell us what botanical dyeing is and the process involved in making your products?

Sarah:  Botanical dyeing is a process that has its roots in the earliest days of textile production. Essentially it is the gathering of natural materials such as barks, leaves, flowers, lichen or even soil to create colours for fibre and textiles. The gathered materials are then boiled in water and left to seep, to draw out as much colour as possible.

Some plants and materials are more suitable than others and create more lightfast and intense colours. Eucalyptus leaves and bark is a good example of this. Usually plants that are high in tannins make great dye plants. Herbs are often great for dyeing with as well. I only work with natural fibres such as wool, cotton, Linen, hemp and silk.

Before the material goes into the dye pot it must be prepared so it can absorb and maintain as much of the dye as possible. First there is scouring, where I boil the fabric for several hours to remove the chemicals from processing. I then soak the fabric in soya milk to mordant the fabric. Mordant means ‘to bite’.  The mordant allows the fibre to take up and retain as much dye as possible. It also assists with the fabric maintaining as much colour for as long as possible. The fibre is then put into the dye pot and heated.  It is then left to sit and absorb the dye for a day or two. This is when the magic happens! The fabric is removed, given a quick rinse and sometimes an afterbath (to alter the colour) before being dried. At this stage it is always exciting to see what colours and markings have been revealed.

There are always subtle differences when working with natural dyes.  There are so many variable elements that can alter the colours you achieve. This is one reason I love this process so much, as nothing is predictable and you get something slightly different each time. The fabric is them left to sit and cure for at least a week before a final wash and iron.  Then it’s ready to go!

Nicola:  Can you tell us where you draw inspiration from for your work?

Sarah:  As long as I can remember I’ve had a strong attachment to the Tasmanian landscape. I grew up on a beautiful sheep farm in the midlands of Tasmania and would spend my days helping on the farm, or walking and riding around the farm making things and collecting natural treasures. It was a very idyllic childhood rooted in nature, and very much influenced by the weather and seasons.

This desire to express my attachment to the landscape and place continued through my university art degree where I studied textiles, print making and painting. Painting was my major and I continued this for a long time after university. But with a busy family life I found it increasingly difficult to find the time or headspace for it, so I returned to my roots of textiles and dying.

It is immensely satisfying to use raw and natural ingredients to make something that will be used and treasured by others. I also love the fact that textiles are such an integral part of our everyday life. Their humble domesticity can be such an expression of status, culture and shared histories.

Nicola:  You live on a rambling cottage on a family farm in Tasmania, Australia, which is a beautiful part of the world.  Can you tell us more about where you live, your family life and why you love living here?

Sarah:  We are very blessed to live in Pipers River, which is in the North East of Tasmania. It is located in the heart of a world renowned wine region, thirty minutes north of the city of Launceston and close to many pristine beaches. I refer to it as the land of milk and honey!

My family moved to a small farm here about twenty years ago. The property which is named ‘Laroona’ had previously been a dairy farm, but had been let go for many years. My parents tackled the huge task of renovating and restoring the old farm cottage, which was built in the 1900’s. My mother, who was a passionate gardener (she is no longer with us but her spirit is very much alive in her garden), created a beautiful cottage styled garden around the few established trees. My father had the huge task of clearing the farm of weeds, restoring fences and planting native tree belts.

My husband (also from a farming background) and I took over the lease of the property a few years ago, and now run a mixed operation of sheep/cattle and some cropping. It is such a beautiful place to live, and we are so blessed to be able to give our children the privilege of a country childhood just like our own.

Nicola:  You obviously have your hands full with three young children, the farm and your business.  Tell us what a day in your life looks like at the moment?

Sarah:  Busy! We are a family of fowls (early risers) so our day begins early. We have wriggly cuddles in bed with the children before getting started with the day. I always have a cup of tea in bed to get me going, as once my feet hit the ground its pretty non-stop! Depending on whether it’s a home or school day determines the pace and flow of the morning.

Home days tend to have a slower, gentler start. The children will often play for a while before breakfast, while I potter and get as many jobs done as I can. If the weather’s fine we like to get outside before it gets too hot. We love spending time in the garden, feeding animals, going on bush adventures (and foraging for dye plants!), or playing under the trees on the trampoline or in the cubby house. On the weekend we often head out on the farm with Chris to tend animals, feed out hay, or help with other farm jobs that need doing. Both Annabelle (5) and Clancy (3) love doing creative activities like painting, craft and creative play. We are always on the lookout for natural bits that we bring in to use in our craft and play.

Midday is usually lunch followed by rest time. This often gives me an hour where I run like a mad chicken tending to my dye pots, sewing or packing up an order. I have discovered the power of working in small blocks of time! Before I had children I always felt I needed a great chunk of free time for my creative pursuits, but now I realise that I can achieve a lot in little blocks of time throughout the day. This is another reason why I love the dyeing process, as it is so flexible and can be tended to here and there as it suits. The children love my dyeing and I try to involve them in the process as much as possible. I am a firm believer in passing down traditional skills to the next generation. They often bring leaves and flowers in from the farm or garden for my ‘dye pots’, and love creating their own dye concoctions in their role play!

Afternoons always fly by with play, jobs and dinner preparation. We try to eat dinner together (depending on what time Chris, a plumber, gets home) at the table every night.  We discuss our day and talk about our best thing and not so good thing that happened. I really encourage gratitude and we talk about things we are grateful for. Evenings tend to be a quieter time with baths, play, lots of books, songs and cuddles. Once everyone is settled I usually try to do bit more work in my studio before collapsing into bed!

Nicola:  What is your favourite way to connect with nature?

Sarah:  My garden;

Walking;

Bush adventures.  In the winter we love to have bush picnics and make billy tea and cook sausages on a campfire;

Just sitting on a mossy bank and breathing and observing;

Foraging and gathering things for my dye pots.  It has made me see the wealth of resources that I am surrounded by. I’m always on the lookout for different plants to try dyeing with; and

Stopping on the roadside to gather great big bunches of leaves to take home.

And lastly, if someone reading your story were inspired to follow their own creative dream, what advice would you give them?

Honour your creativity! For a long time I felt as if I had to put my creative pursuits aside or second to ‘real life’.  As if having time to be creative was a luxury. But I learnt the hard way that being creative is like breathing for me.  It is an essential part of who I am, and how I interact with others and the world around me. I feel incredibly lucky to have the support of so many beautiful friends and networks such as Instagram.  I finally feel like I’ve found my tribe.

Find something that you love doing, that way it is play not work. The best way to do this is to experiment with different mediums, crafts and art forms until you find what fits. My family roll their eyes at all the different ‘projects’ I’ve had over the years!

Be creative in some way every day, even if it’s something small like arranging flowers for the table. It will allow your creativity time to play, give you freedom to experiment and say to your creative soul, ‘I love and honour you’.

Baby steps! It can be overwhelming starting a new business. So start small and work towards the bigger things. It’s amazing what you can achieve in ten minutes! I no longer have the luxury of blocks of clear time, but it’s amazing how much you can achieve by doing things in little spurts throughout the day. It also feels great to tick a couple of things of the list each day, no matter how small they are!

Visit Sarah's website, or follow her on Instagram. All photographs copyright Luca Edwards.

About a mile in to the strenuous hike she saw the sign at the same time that her energetic triplets did.  “Adventure Trail,” it said in printed in black letters, pointing to the right.  Her children’s voices rang out like enthusiastic bells, “Lets go!  Let’s go!  Let’s go!”  she heard them chime.  As she cautiously considered this path, she tasted fear as a bitter lemon placed on her tongue.  Adventure trails were not for 41 year olds - especially ones like her. 

She listed the reasons, very persuasively, in her mind: “I’m not in good shape, I’m afraid of heights, I don’t like tight spaces, I’m scared.”  Her self argument fell on deaf ears as she found herself making the turn and descending a rickety wooden ladder nestled in to a crevasse.  Her hands shook as she slowly descended. 

As she dropped heavily to the ground from the last rung a cool breeze enveloped her and she exhaled slow as this reassuring touch surrounded her.  The smell of damp rocks and rich earth greeted her as she turned to catch up.  Though her knees wobbled after the first obstacle, her confidence grew and she raised her head high.  She moved slowly along the path, savouring the beauty. 

For a time, she struggled to catch up, as if being last was a voice whispering that she was not enough.  But as she continued to crawl on her hands and knees through tunnels of rock and pull herself up on to small ledges, she realised being last was allowing her to savour the experience.  Savour the adventure.  Savour the journey.  To fully realise that adventure trails were made for 41 year olds, just like her. 

Lottie tickles our tastebuds!

The months of March, April and May are often a funny, in-between experience. Some days are bright and kissed with a sunshine so warm, it feels as if summer has arrived, months early. Other days, however, are resolutely, almost doggedly grey and bitter with a sharp breeze, clinging onto the last throws of winter. And of course there are the days in which the weather is neither here nor there and you will choose to wear tights, or not to wear tights, and your decision will ultimately be wrong. As is the way with these undecided days.

Cooking in these months is also susceptible to this odd in-between, where pie or salad could be craved from one day to the next.  

This spaghetti is excellent at bridging the gap between winter and summer eating, boasting both fresh flavours and comforting pasta. It also does not jump the gun on what’s in season, whilst we’re all still waiting patiently for the asparagus harvest.

Frozen beans and peas are to thank for this. Because whilst we’re desperately ready for a change in season, this year’s summer produce is still growing, benefitting from the first warm days of the year just as we are, but still not ready to be picked and stirred into our suppers.

So in spring heat waves, while we still have to wait a little longer for Panzanella, laden with overripe tomatoes and British berries sweet with sunshine, we can feast on this spaghetti. It is ready to satisfy your spring supper cravings as soon as the first warm breeze rolls in and will still comfort you when that breeze inevitably and erratically turns cold once more.

Spring One Pot Spaghetti with Lemon, Peas
and Broad Beans

Serves 4 generously

• 400g spaghetti

• 800ml vegetable stock

• 200ml white wine (or an additional 200ml vegetable stock)

• 50ml olive oil

• 1 white onion, sliced thinly

• 2 garlic cloves, sliced thinly

• 200g frozen peas

• 200g frozen broad beans

• 150g spinach

• 1 lemon, zest and juice

• a handful of soft herbs like mint or basil, torn.

• 40g Parmesan, grated, plus extra to serve

• salt and pepper

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Put the spaghetti, vegetable stock, olive oil, onion, garlic and lemon zest into a large pot and put over a medium for 7 minutes, or 3 minutes less than the packet cooking time, stirring the spaghetti as it cooks.

2. Add the beans, peas, and spinach and cook for a further three minutes until the frozen beans are cooked through and the spaghetti is cooked.

3. Remove from the heat and stir through the soft herbs, Parmesan and lemon juice. Leave to stand for a minute or so to let the lemony sauce thicken.

4. Serve with a little more Parmesan if you like, and additional herbs.

You can find Lottie on Instagram and Twitter 

Nicola:  Can you start by telling us about Cowparsley at Home and the journey you took to start your own business?

Alison:  The countryside, most notably my time spent on Dartmoor, has had a huge and lasting influence on my life; both as a playground through my childhood, and as a comfort and anchor during challenging times in my adult life. When my daughter, now 25, left home I needed something to nurture ... and so Cowparsley was born.

Nicola:  You describe your products as being ‘Comfortably English’ in design, as well as subtle and understated.  Can you describe the theme of your products and what inspires you in your creative process?

Alison:  I had rather a nomadic upbringing, with many home and school changes due to my Father’s occupation in the Royal Air Force. This left me with a strong desire to ‘root’ myself. Due to this home became increasingly important to me.  

I am drawn to the comfort of time-worn houses, where the comfortable style and decoration have evolved over time, reflecting the personality and needs of the families living there. I love the wild romance of English gardens.  Flowers are essential to my wellbeing.  

All these influences appear throughout my designs and inform the themes I choose. I don’t follow trends.  I can only work with what I love and has meaning to me. 

Nicola:  Can you share with us where you live, what your workspace looks like, and how a day in your life unfolds?

Alison:  I live in a small village on the edge of the Blackdown Hills in Somerset. We converted an old hay barn into a workshop. This is where I work on my wallpaper designs, often making mood boards to help me tell the story behind the patterns. I have an online shop, so as orders come in I pack and then send them from the post office in a neighbouring village. My product range is small but all made to the highest quality.  This is far more important to me than mass sales. I use social media, in particular, Instagram and Pinterest, to promote and market the brand.

Nicola:  I know you are currently rethinking the direction of Cowparsley at Home.  Decisions like this aren’t easy when you have put so much energy into creating your business.  But I also think they are important stories to tell.  We’d love to hear yours if you are comfortable talking about it?

Alison:  I often wonder if one can be both creative and business-minded equally and successfully?  I struggle with the latter. The reality of running a business can be daunting.  As I work alone it is isolating at times and hard to remain confident in what you are doing.

I have recently made the decision to step back from Cowparsley and the pressures of the business to rekindle my love of working alongside other creative people who inspire and empower me. This decision means Cowparsley will be taking a back seat in the future.

Nicola:  I also know you have started working alongside Grace Alexander, who featured in Issue 3 of the Creative Countryside magazine, on her cut flower and seed business. I’d love for you to tell us how you came to start working together and what excites you most about this new opportunity?

Alison:  Many years ago I did a floristry course, and although technically helpful I found it rather restricting.   However, flowers remain hugely important to me. I love the wildness and the ‘natural just picked from the garden or hedgerow style’.

I have recently started working alongside Grace Alexander, who I met when I attended a few of her flower workshops at Forde Abbey. Grace has a unique, natural and refreshingly honest approach to how she grows her cut flowers and packages her beautiful seeds.  Grace knew I was looking to reconnect with flowers and the land again.  She offered me a couple of days working with her and gardener Danny Burlingham in her flower field, helping to style photographs for both home and garden.

Nicola:  And lastly, if someone reading your story was inspired to follow their own creative dream, what advice would you give them?

Alison:  For anyone thinking of starting out in a creative business I would say never let age be a barrier.  Also, think about what you want from the business.  Will it be full or part-time?  Do you need it to provide a regular income?  It is a very competitive market out there. Be true to yourself and be authentic. Working alone can be isolating though, so find other creatives you can bounce ideas off and who will offer support.  But most of all, if it makes you happy then do it!

Photography by Jake Eastham and Alun Callander.
You can find out more about Cowparsley on Instagram and their website.

Rebecca Robinson renews herself through Shinrin-yoku

For many years, I have worked in the city. My mornings have passed me by, breakfast-less, in a blur of rushing. I have been on trains full of commuters staring at their phones, never looking up to see the world passing by their window at 120 mph. I have been one of them. But sometimes, something jolts me out of autopilot. I suddenly notice my surroundings and the people around me, a sea of suits and briefcases. I smell the coffee that other passengers gulp from their overpriced cups, barely noticing the taste. I watch as everyone strides purposefully through grey streets to make it to work on time – for many their only exercise before sitting at a desk and staring at a screen for 8 hours. As we walk, the congestion of the roads and the sound of car horns assault our senses, and the sameness of the daily grind makes us switch off. Our awareness shuts down and we stop seeing life around us. We walk past the homeless man who is in the same spot every morning, yet we no longer even notice him, and we fail to see the small flower that has struggled to grow between the cracks in the pavement.

Wake up and smell the coffee

Being caught up in city life can feel thrilling. The fast-paced nature is exciting, and the multitude of department stores and coffee shops to indulge in on your lunch hour can be one of life’s little pleasures, but the temptation to shop and spend money we don’t have is a strong one. The occasional treat is nice, but when it becomes an expensive habit that keeps us in debt and prevents us from connecting with our selves and nature, we need to stop and think. I became aware of how often I had been treating myself, using hot chocolate with cream and slices of cake as a conduit to ‘me time’. A costly habit; one where you lose pounds from your wallet yet add pounds to your hips. Modern city life has its appeal but leads to apathy and a disconnect from real life. We miss what’s happening right under our noses in our natural environment because we stay cooped up indoors, tethered to our screens.

When I had my epiphany, brought on by a combination of reading about Shinrin-yoku (the Japanese wellbeing practice of ‘forest bathing’) and looking at my bank statement - which had landed with a particularly heavy thud that month - I realised something had to change. Materialism was becoming too big a part of my life, it was costing me money and I was losing a part of myself in the process. Being indoors all day at work and on my lunch-break was severing my connection to the natural world that I have always loved. We are part of nature, and reconnecting with our wild inner self is something that calls to us all, yet we often dampen down and anaesthetise our yearning for something more real with the pulsating lights of city life and an accumulation of more ‘stuff’.

Aside from materialism and the negative effects on our wallets, I had read about the negative physical effects of living in a city. Air pollution from particulates - such as black carbon from car engines - can seep into our bodies and make us ill. I became acutely aware of the lack of trees - which pump out oxygen and absorb pollution -  and I craved more of nature. The effects on our mood and mental health are well-documented with studies showing that noise pollution and city-living can make us anxious, stressed and depressed. The city was losing its allure, and I began my quest to claim back nature for my own wellbeing.

I bought a digital alarm clock to wake me with a simulated sunrise and the song of birdsong, yet neither I nor my husband could make it work correctly. Again, I had reached out to ‘buy’ a piece of nature rather than opting for the real thing. After I returned it to the shop, I then began to open the curtains and let the real morning light flood in. I embraced the seasons. I listened to actual birdsong in the morning as I dressed, tuning in with the natural world around me. I began meditating on the train to work, looking at the landscape flash by. I was amazed at how much of the natural world I had tuned out of. It was there to see, but I had just stopped looking. I noticed trees growing at the side of the railway, grass growing wild and abundant between the tracks, clusters of snowdrops forcing their way through winter’s cold, hard earth, and moss growing on the entrance of damp, north-facing tunnel walls. Nature was all around me, and the more I looked, the more I saw. A v-formation of geese flew overhead, symbolising freedom. I made it my mission to carry on looking for nature in my everyday life. I started to go out on my lunch break, just sitting in nature and writing poetry about the natural world within the city around me.

Into the Woods

My reignited senses and focus on reclaiming the wild had started to make me feel better – happier, calmer, with renewed concentration, awareness and vitality.  Yet I was keen for more of nature and wanted to try Shinrin-yoku. ‘Forest Bathing’ does not involve stripping off to a bikini, but instead means walking deep into woodland and soaking up the atmosphere.

It is a type of nature-mindfulness which began in Japan in the 1980s and has long been a part of Japanese medicine, with extensive studies showing the physical and mental benefits of immersing yourself in the forest. Trees are believed to give off compounds that boost the number of natural killer (NK) cells we have in our body, thus boosting our immune system and helping us recover more quickly from illness. The NHS state on their website that ‘access to green space … reduces cortisol (stress) levels, increases physical activity and speeds recovery if you have been ill’. Since 2009, the NHS Forest project has seen 150 NHS sites plant thousands of trees on NHS land, enabling more people to access green spaces whilst at hospital to improve patients’ lifestyles and aid recovery processes. For more information, visit https://nhsforest.org/.  Reading the evidence that shows how our environment and health are linked is empowering. A walk in the woods seems to lower our heart rate and blood pressure, improving our energy levels and mood, making us happier, calmer, more relaxed, with increased focus and fewer symptoms of depression and anxiety.

The woods were calling to me, just as they have called to others throughout time, urging us to reconnect with our true nature and renew ourselves. ‘It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts,’ wrote Robert Louis Stevenson, ‘as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.’ So, I began my journey to a local area of woodland. Even if you live in a city, there will be somewhere nearby with trees if you look.

When I arrived at the opening to the woods, I stood still for a moment to take a deep breath, drawing in a lungful of air so pure you could almost taste it. It is true that when we are around trees the air seems fresher. I walked slowly, meandering along paths that snaked across the leaf-covered earth beneath my feet. Using my senses, I drank in everything. The feel of the ground, the pebbles beneath the soles of my shoes, the air on my cheeks. I noticed the colours of the leaves, the patterns etched into tree-bark, even spotting lovers’ names carved into the trunks. Dappled light shone and danced through the canopy of leaves above my head. The rushing of a stream cut its way through the forest. I walked toward the sound. Sliding over rocks, crashing over waterfalls, it energised the air. Its sound mingled with the chattering of wildlife and the singing of birds. As I breathed in the scent of the evergreens, breathing slowly, deeply, rhythmically, I entered a meditative state where I felt aware, focused, yet deeply calm.

After 45 minutes of forest bathing, my hunched shoulders had dropped, tension had drained from my body, and I felt rested and restored. After my mindful walk through the woods, I slowly made my way home, promising myself that I would make more time for the healing powers of nature in my life. As conservationist John Muir wrote, ‘Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilised people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity.’ I promised myself that I would look for the wild in the every day, I would notice nature wherever I went, and I would keep the countryside within me, knowing - in truth - that it had been there all along.

Find Rebecca on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook using @rrobinsonwriter

The daffodils have wilted and the snowdrops have long gone. We've had a few days of sunshine and warm weather, so that can only mean one thing: blossom season has arrived. If you haven't already had your fill on Instagram, here's a flurry of blossom images from the lovely Annie Spratt. If you're interested in taking photographs of flowers, or anything in nature, you might find Annie's walking seasonal photography workshop at our Summer Gathering of interest - click here for more information.