I'm one of those people who doesn't have much time to go into nature compared to most people - not able to go out both days of the weekend unless it's something important and pre-planned. That's both because I'm neurodivergent and can get overwhelmed with too many transitions or sensory input, and also because I'm a young carer, meaning the logistics for my family of me going out are more complicated than they are for others.

But today, for a while, I have found time to go out, a bit longer than my usual quick-needing-to-get-back-run.

I have gone to Broom Heath, about 20 minutes’ walk from my house.

Past the enclosing walls I spring, into the early afternoon daylight. (Other than walking to school) I haven't been able to be out as early as one o'clock in a while.

I hear the beautiful chatter of birds as I surpass the suburban landscape and write a poem as I always do. The sights and sounds of a spring day catch my joy and creativity.

The transition between suburban to rural shifts. The shade bowers down on top of you as the trees close in and grass and pinecones lay the road. The distinct smell of the river Deben bares its presence across light airy winds over the goliath houses to my right. I am closer to the heath.

I step into the gap of the large houses where a natural heath looks out to a horizon of the river Deben and the other side.

I walk down to a pine tree where I sit for a tranquil moment. I have never seen a scene so beautiful. Snowdrops were on the ground, there was an oak and birch tree. That feeling of being so small in the landscape.

I take a few pictures, finish my poem, and leave.

It shows to me that nature at its finest can still be there, and isn't too far when we have time to be in it. It gives me hope. Every time I am able to go in nature, I feel more inclined to protect it. It gives me joy.

This is the poem I wrote during my walk:

Mid-February walk 

Out into the daylight

I set myself going

Alone

The great tit has called adventure

Through the bathroom window where I did my hair

A call for reflection, unsettled adrenaline

Coatless

Walk.

Mid February

Sparrow chatter

I love where the hedges touch the grass

Where the flowers touch the concrete

I love when I cross the road

Land I have never touched for more than half a second

I get to touch for 2.

Cracks in it where roars the boastful soil underneath

Trying to split grass to the surface

I love as the magpie and the raven fly in the trees behind the small construction site

I love the tweets and chirps

As they tint the mood of the landscape

The trees bower down

And transition

As the walk takes you to the

Rich rural road

Natural land closer

But too far

Far for when my time is lapsed

Onto the heath I spread

My legs

And sit by a great spruce

Perfectly placed

The light dips in and out

Beauty beyond my brain could rhythmize

And feel so small.

And wish I always could.

(February 2024)