This shift in our own mindset as practitioners is grounded in how sensory processing actually works.

Where the theory comes from

Modern sensory-integration thinking traces back to A. Jean Ayres (1972), an occupational therapist and neuropsychologist who spent her career researching and developing the sensory integration theory and intervention strategies – to understand and treat children with learning and behavioural challenges (Lane et al., 2019). Ayres relied heavily on neuroscience literature to guide her understanding of previously unexamined sensory and motor deficits affecting learning and behaviour (Lane et al., 2019). Working through the late 1960s and 70s, Ayres (1972b) defined sensory integration as the neurological process that organises sensation from the body and the environment so it can be used effectively. Ayres (1972b) proposed that when this organising process doesn’t develop smoothly, it can show up as difficulties with learning, coordination, behaviour, and emotional regulation. Her 1972 study on children with learning disorders was an early controlled trial of the approach (Ayres, 1972a), and her framework (now trademarked as Ayres Sensory Integration®) remains the foundation most occupational therapy sensory work builds on today, including the proprioceptive, vestibular, and tactile categories used throughout this article.

Two later strands of research have built on that foundation in ways directly relevant to Forest School:

• Interoception and self-regulation. Occupational therapist Kelly Mahler’s Interoception Curriculum treats interoceptive awareness as trainable, not fixed — and small studies using it, including a 25-week school-based programme with autistic pupils (Mahler et al., 2022) and a feasibility trial in a special-education classroom (Mahler et al., 2024), found measurable improvements in both interoceptive awareness and emotional regulation after structured practice noticing body signals. This supports the idea that repeatedly asking “what is your body telling you?” isn’t just a nice question – it’s a rehearsable skill!
• Natural environments and motor development. Norwegian researcher Ingunn Fjørtoft’s landscape-ecology studies (Fjørtoft, 2001, 2004) compared children playing in natural, varied terrain against children on standard playgrounds over a nine-month period. The natural environment group showed statistically significant gains in motor fitness, including balance and coordination, with functional play, (climbing, running, uneven ground navigation) the dominant activity type (Fjørtoft, 2004). This provides supportive evidence for the proprioceptive and vestibular claims made earlier: varied, natural terrain isn’t just enjoyable, it measurably builds the physical skills those systems rely on.

The science summed up;

Sensory processing isn’t just about receiving input.  It’s about how the nervous system detects, filters, and interprets it. Alongside the five familiar senses (hearing, sight, smell, taste and touch) three systems matter most outdoors:

• Proprioception — receptors in muscles and joints that signal body position, force, and effort (climbing, carrying, digging).
• Vestibular sense — the inner ear’s balance system, activated by tilting, spinning, and changes in head position (balancing on logs, rolling, swinging).
• Interoception — the sense of the body’s internal state: heart rate, breathing, temperature, hunger, thirst, and bladder or bowel fullness. Interoceptive awareness is increasingly linked in the research literature to emotional regulation, since noticing a bodily signal is a precondition for responding to it appropriately (Mahler et al., 2022).

Children vary widely in how they register and tolerate this input– some seek intense movement, others find the same input overwhelming. Neither response is a behaviour problem to correct; it is an individual’s sensory processing at work. The practitioner’s role is to widen the choice of input available, not to standardise the experience.

Turning existing moments into interoceptive practice, basically, turning everyday moments into body awareness practice. 

Rather than adding activities, reframe the ones already happening within the setting/session:

After climbing or carrying: “What is your body telling you? Is your heart beating faster? Is your breathing different?”

During a woodland walk: “Do your legs feel tired? Are you warm or cold? Does your body need a drink?”

By the fire: “Can you feel the difference between your warm side and your cool side?”

At a quiet sit spot: “Is your breathing fast or slow right now? Does your body feel still or busy?”

These questions cost nothing extra to include, and they build a vocabulary for internal states that many children don’t develop automatically. Body awareness language has to be modelled and practised, much like emotional vocabulary does.

Modelling: body doubling in action

Children often don’t register thirst until they’re already dehydrated, and can be too absorbed in play to notice bladder or bowel signals. One evidence-based approach is body doubling.  Practitioners narrating their own internal signals aloud:

“My mouth feels dry — I think my body’s telling me I’m thirsty.” [drinks] “That’s better.”

This models the sequence, signal → interpretation → action, which children then begin applying to themselves, remembering practice is progress not perfection. It works better as an ongoing habit throughout a session than as scheduled “drink time,” since interoceptive signals don’t arrive on a schedule.

Why hydration and toileting belong in this conversation…this sh*t matters!

This section draws on guidance from ERIC (Education and Resources for Improving Childhood Continence), the UK’s leading charity for children’s bowel and bladder health, which trains health and education professionals on this topic (ERIC, n.d.-a; Fuidge, 2022):

• Childhood continence problems are common: ERIC cites around 1 in 12 children are affected by a bowel or bladder difficulties roughly three children in an average primary school class (Fuidge, 2022).
• Functional constipation (with no underlying medical cause) affects an estimated 1 in 3 children, and is particularly common under age five (Koppen et al., 2015, as cited in Fuidge, 2022). Stool or bladder withholding – often driven by discomfort, unfamiliar toilets, or being too absorbed in play to notice the urge in time-  is a recognised contributing factor, and ERIC’s own guidance notes that withholding and constipation tend to feed each other in a cycle (Fuidge, 2022).
• ERIC’s “Wee Checker” tool uses urine colour as a simple hydration marker: pale, straw-coloured urine (its lightest 1–3 shades) indicates good hydration, while darker urine later in the day is a sign to drink more (ERIC, n.d.-b).
• ERIC specifically advises against restricting or delaying toilet access, since this can worsen withholding (Fuidge, 2022). Practical planning,  known toilet locations, no unnecessary waiting, a shame-free culture around asking – supports this guidance directly.

The Forest School framing is ours; the continence-specific facts and recommendations above are ERIC’s, not a general “good practice” gloss.

How bowel and bladder issues can affect behaviour and engagement…This Sh*t Matters!

Continence difficulties don’t stay confined to the toilet, they show up in the woods too, often disguised as something else entirely.

• Discomfort affects mood
  Constipation and abdominal discomfort are consistently linked in clinical reports to irritability, low frustration tolerance, temper flare-ups, and disrupted sleep. A child who seems unusually snappy or tearful during a session may be physically uncomfortable, not simply having a difficult day.
  
• Withholding takes real effort
  Actively holding in a wee or poo is physically and mentally demanding. ERIC describes children becoming “vacant,” seeming unreachable, or not responding to instructions while withholding, it can look like inattention or defiance, but it may be the child using most of their concentration just to hold on (ERIC, n.d.-c).
  
• Watch for physical signs, not just mood
  Sudden stillness mid-play, grimacing, straining, tiptoeing, leg-crossing, or an unusual rigid or “banana-bend” posture are classic withholding signs (ERIC, n.d.-c) — easy to miss outdoors amid normal rough-and-tumble play, but worth a quiet check-in rather than a redirection back to the activity.
  
• Unfamiliar toilets increase avoidance
  Forest School toilet arrangements, composting loos, portable toilets, or “find a tree” systems are often less familiar than a child’s toilet at home or school. Discomfort or embarrassment about these can lead a child to withhold rather than ask, which worsens the underlying constipation rather than resolving it (Boorman & Fleming, 2022).
  
• Anticipatory anxiety can look like reluctance
  For children with ongoing continence difficulties, worry about needing the toilet in an unfamiliar outdoor setting can itself cause withdrawal from activities, reluctance to join in, or a preference to stay close to the toilet area — separate from, and sometimes mistaken for, general disengagement (Boorman & Fleming, 2022).

The practical takeaway:
A child who suddenly seems withdrawn, irritable, or “not themselves” is worth a calm, low-pressure toilet check-in before assuming the behaviour is about the activity itself, the same “what is your body telling you?” instinct used elsewhere in this article applies here too.

Practical design, not more equipment

A sensory-inclusive woodland is mostly about choice, not additional resources:

Letting children move between these and opt out of ones that overwhelm them, supports regulation better than a single fixed activity ever could.

What this doesn’t mean

Sensory-informed practice isn’t about eliminating discomfort. Cold rain, rough bark, and scary heights are part of the value of Forest School; the goal is supported exposure, not forced exposure. “I don’t like that” is useful information, not a problem to override. Sometimes the right response is simply: “That’s okay you don’t have to.“

The bottom line

Forest School doesn’t need to change to become more sensory-informed  practitioners, just need to narrate what’s already there. A log becomes a proprioceptive task. A fire becomes a temperature-awareness moment. A woodland walk becomes a chance to notice thirst before it becomes dehydration. Over time, “you need a drink” becomes “I know what my body needs” which is the actual goal: independent, self-regulating body awareness, built one ordinary outdoor moment at a time.

This article is a practical reflection for Forest School practitioners, not a substitute for individual occupational therapy or specialist sensory assessment. Children’s sensory needs vary and should be supported individually.

References

Ayres, A. J. (1972a). Improving academic scores through sensory integration. American Journal of Occupational Therapy, 26(1), 13–18. Cited in Mailloux, Z., & Miller-Kuhaneck, H. (2014). Evolution of a theory: How measurement has shaped Ayres Sensory Integration®. American Journal of Occupational Therapy, 68(5), 495–499. https://research.aota.org/ajot/article/68/5/495/8484/Evolution-of-a-Theory-How-Measurement-Has-Shaped

Ayres, A. J. (1972b). Sensory integration and learning disorders. Western Psychological Services. Definition cited in Lane, S. J., Mailloux, Z., Schoen, S., Bundy, A., May-Benson, T. A., Parham, L. D., Smith Roley, S., & Schaaf, R. C. (2019). Neural foundations of Ayres Sensory Integration®. Brain Sciences, 9(7), 153. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC6680650/

Ayres, A. J. (1979). Sensory integration and the child. Western Psychological Services. 

ERIC, The Children’s Bowel & Bladder Charity. (n.d.-a). Home. Retrieved August 2026, from https://eric.org.uk/

ERIC, The Children’s Bowel & Bladder Charity. (n.d.-b). Wee checker. Retrieved August 2026, from https://eric.org.uk/wee-checker/

Fjørtoft, I. (2001). The natural environment as a playground for children: The impact of outdoor play activities in pre-primary school children. Early Childhood Education Journal, 29(2), 111–117. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1023/A:1012576913074

Fjørtoft, I. (2004). Landscape as playscape: The effects of natural environments on children’s play and motor development. Children, Youth and Environments, 14(2), 21–44. https://muse.jhu.edu/article/899100/summary

Fuidge, J. (2022). Improving the lives of children with continence challenges. Journal of Community Nursing, 36(3), 16. https://www.ucc-today.com/journals/issue/launch-edition/article/improving-the-lives-of-children-with-continence-challenges-ucct

Koppen, I. J. N., Lammers, L. A., Benninga, M. A., & Tabbers, M. M. (2015). Management of functional constipation in children: Therapy in practice. Paediatric Drugs, 17(5), 349–360. As cited in Fuidge (2022).

Lane, S. J., Mailloux, Z., Schoen, S., Bundy, A., May-Benson, T. A., Parham, L. D., Smith Roley, S., & Schaaf, R. C. (2019). Neural foundations of Ayres Sensory Integration®. Brain Sciences, 9(7), 153. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC6680650/

Mahler, K., Hample, K., Jones, C., Sensenig, J., Thomasco, P., & Hilton, C. (2022). Impact of an interoception-based program on emotion regulation in autistic children. Occupational Therapy International, 2022, Article 9328967. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9045986/

Mahler, K., Hample, K., Ensor, C., Ludwig, M., Palanzo-Sholly, L., Stang, A., Trevisan, D., & Hilton, C. (2024). An interoception-based intervention for improving emotional regulation in children in a special education classroom: Feasibility study. Occupational Therapy in Health Care, 38(3), 636–650.

Read more at Growing Roots Forest School CIC

Your child has spent the summer deciding when they eat, when they play, where they go and what they do.

And then September arrives.

All of a sudden, they are being told to:

Wake up at this time.

Get dressed.

Get in the car.

Say goodbye.

Sit here.

Listen now.

Wait your turn.

Stop playing.

Move to the next thing.

That’s a lot of regulation for a small person.

When we talk about children struggling with these changes, we often hear the word regulation. But regulation isn’t simply about being calm. A regulated child may be running, climbing, talking excitedly, or completely absorbed in something.

It’s about being able to manage and respond to what is happening around us. Children are still developing those skills.

Starting school asks a lot of them: navigating a new environment, following instructions (my son has a particular dislike to this one), waiting their turn, dealing with noise and other sensory experiences, concentrating, managing frustration, and doing things they simply would rather not.

That’s a lot for a brain that is still developing!

So, if children are constantly being asked to adapt to their surroundings, could some environments make that easier to process than others? And could nature be one of them?

We often hear that getting outside in nature is good for our mental health. “Go for a walk”, “get some fresh air”, “go outside and clear your head”.

But is there any science behind it?

The answer is yes…probably.

There is some very promising evidence, but it’s more complex than simple stating “Nature makes us feel better”.

Does nature really make us feel better?

Researchers have been asking various versions of this question for quite some time.

The difficulty is that “nature” can mean a lot of different things. One study might look at the amount of greenspace around someone’s home, while another might investigate the effects of gardening, outdoor exercise, or nature-based therapy.

Unfortunately, there isn’t a study that is called “Does nature improve mental health: yes or no”.

Instead, we have lots of smaller pieces of the puzzle, which start to give us a picture of what might be happening.

In adults, systematic reviews have found promising evidence that nature-based outdoor activities can improve outcomes such as anxiety, depressive mood, and measures of positive and negative mood.

But those activities are not simply sitting in nature, they often include movement, social interaction and doing something purposeful.

So, nature is probably not doing all the work.

What we do in nature matters just as much as being in it.

This feels particularly relevant when we are thinking about children.

Think about what might happen when you let a child loose outside. They might run, climb, dig, pick something up, or they might spend 10 minutes watching an ant.

They are moving. They are exploring. They are making decisions. They are using their senses. They are paying attention to things because they want to.

And perhaps most importantly, they are often in charge of what happens next.

That’s quite different from a day at school.

At school, adults decide when it’s time to listen, when it’s time to stop, where you need to be and what you need to do next. There’s nothing wrong with that. These are valuable skills children need to learn. But having opportunities to make their own choices matters too.

Perhaps this is part of what natural environments can offer: movement, sensory experiences, attention, social interaction and autonomy.

There are still plenty of questions around which of these things matters most.

Nature doesn’t have to be green.

When we talk about nature, we often picture trees, but nature doesn’t have to be green.

Researchers are increasingly interested in blue spaces too – things like rivers, lakes and, perhaps most obviously, the coast.

Personally, I feel most regulated around water.

A 2026 systematic evidence map identified 139 studies looking at specific types or characteristics of blue space and mental health, with coastal environments being the most frequently studied. The researchers found a growing body of evidence but also highlighted how difficult it is to compare studies because they measure both “nature” and mental health in very different ways.

Starting to see a pattern here?

We can’t yet say whether one environment is better than another, or exactly which characteristics might be responsible for any benefits.

The more useful question would be “what does this environment allow a child to do?”

Researchers are beginning to ask this question in schools too. A 2024 systematic review of school-led greenspace interventions found some encouraging evidence for improvements in children’s positive mood, physical activity and social relationships; although the findings weren’t universally positive and more research is needed.

It doesn’t mean that putting a few trees in a playground will magically solve children’s mental health, but it does give us another piece of the puzzle.

And it brings me to something I think most parents will recognise, the dreaded after-school meltdown.

They’ve apparently been an absolute joy all day.

Then you get home.

They don’t want to take their shoes off. They don’t want dinner. They definitely don’t want to tell you about their day. And the wrong colour cup is suddenly the worst thing that has ever happened to them.

I wouldn’t blame you for thinking “What on earth is wrong with you”.

I know I have!

But really, we should be asking “what have they had to manage today?”

They’ve spent hours listening, following instructions, waiting, stopping and starting, and dealing with a whole load of things that adults have decided are happening next.

Now they’re home, somewhere that feels familiar and safe, and maybe they finally have the space where to let some of it out – and unfortunately for us parents, we’re on the other side of it.

Instead of only trying to stop the meltdown, perhaps we also need to think about what might help them recover from everything they’ve had to manage throughout the day.

Maybe they need to run around the garden. Maybe they want to dig, look for bugs or climb. Maybe they want to walk to the park. Maybe they want to sit beside the water and watch the waves. Maybe they don’t want to do anything at all.

That is where I think the research leaves us with a really interesting possibility.

Nature isn’t a regulation button.

But it can provide the conditions in which regulation becomes a little easier.

We still don’t know exactly how much time outdoors is beneficial, which environments are most helpful, or whether it is nature itself or the things we tend to do in nature that make the difference.

And we certainly shouldn’t turn “go outside” into a replacement for proper mental-health support when a child is struggling.

But the evidence is promising.

So, maybe nature doesn’t need to fix anything. Maybe it simply needs to give children somewhere to move, explore, make choices, notice things, connect with others and recover from the demands of their day.

As September approaches, that feels like something worth remembering.

Because sometimes a child doesn’t need another activity, another instruction or another question about their day.

Sometimes they might just need a muddy puddle.

Read more at Growing Roots Forest School CIC

The physical properties create the possibilities; the rest is up to the child and their imagination.
That’s what makes a stick so wonderfully open-ended.
Suddenly, your child is solving problems.
Imagine you’ve decided your stick is a sword and you’re now fighting an imaginary dragon.
You’ve got a problem.
The dragon is bigger than you.
Your stick isn’t quite long enough.
What are you going to do? Perhaps you find a bigger stick.
Perhaps you build a den to hide in. Perhaps you recruit a friend. Perhaps you decide the stick is actually a magic wand and defeat the dragon that way.
It’s play, but it’s also an opportunity to experiment, make decisions, solve problems and adapt when something doesn’t work.
Research into loose parts play suggests that these kinds of open-ended materials may support areas such as creativity, problem-solving and cognitive development. But the research is still developing, and we shouldn’t pretend that scientists have definitively proved that giving a child a stick makes them more creative.
What we can say is that loose parts provide children with opportunities for open-ended, child-led play, where they have to decide what to do, rather than simply following the purpose built into a toy.

Nature is basically one giant toy box.
This is one of the things I love most about outdoor play.
Children don’t need us to provide a carefully curated selection of loose parts. Nature already has them. A woodland is full of things that can be picked up, moved, collected, stacked investigated and transformed. And unlike a toy box, the contents change every time you visit.
A storm might leave behind new branches. Autumn brings leaves and conkers. Spring brings flowers and feathers. Mud appears after rain. Stones, bark and pinecones are always waiting to be discovered. There is always something new to work with.
Sticks don’t just encourage imagination; there’s also a physical side to all of this. A stick needs to be picked up, carried, dragged, balanced, stacked or used to build something.
A den needs branches.
A stick collection needs carrying.
A pretend fishing rod needs casting.
A sword fight requires movement.
Loose parts in outdoor environments can therefore encourage children to move, explore and interact with their surroundings, rather than simply sitting and playing with a toy in one fixed place.

So why do children love sticks? Maybe the answer is actually quite simple.
Because sticks don’t tell them what to do.
They offer possibilities without giving them a predetermined purpose. A stick can become whatever a child needs it to be in that moment.
So maybe that’s why the stick you’ve just been asked to carry for the last half an hour isn’t rubbish after all.
It’s a sword.
Or a wand.
Or a fishing rod.
Or a dinosaur bone.
Or the most important stick in the entire forest.
So, the next time you’re halfway through a walk, your arms are full of sticks and you’re wondering why your child needs another one, remember: They’re not collecting sticks.
They’re collecting possibilities.
Although that doesn’t mean you’re obliged to carry them all home

Read more at Growing Roots Forest School CIC

So, what makes it different?

It’s hands-on….At Forest School, children learn by doing. They might build a den, make a fire, use tools, climb, collect, investigate or create. Rather than being told how something works, they get the opportunity to discover it for themselves. Learning doesn’t always have to look like sitting down and being taught. A child figuring out how to balance a branch across two logs is problem-solving. Working together to build a den is communication and teamwork. Collecting leaves and noticing how they differ is observation and classification. They might just think they’re playing, but they’re learning too.

Children are allowed to be curious

Another key principle of Forest School is child-led learning. That doesn’t mean adults simply stand back and let children run wild. Practitioners observe what children are interested in and respond to it, supporting their exploration rather than directing every activity. If a child discovers a snail, for example, that might lead to questions about where it lives, what it eats, why its shell is shaped the way it is, or why it has appeared after the rain. One question can become an entire learning experience. And perhaps that’s one of the things I love most about Forest School: the learning can start with the child’s curiosity.

Learning to take risks

Forest School also gives children opportunities to experience managed risk. Climbing a tree, balancing on a log, using tools or learning to safely build and tend a fire all involve an element of risk. But rather than removing every possible hazard, Forest School practitioners help children understand and manage appropriate risks for themselves. It’s an opportunity to try, assess, sometimes fail, and then try again. That process can help children develop confidence, independence and resilience.

It’s about the whole child

Forest School isn’t just concerned with what a child can learn academically. It’s about physical, emotional, social and cognitive development too. Children are moving, balancing and climbing. They’re communicating, negotiating and cooperating. They’re making decisions, solving problems and discovering what they’re capable of. A 2023 systematic review specifically examining Forest School for preschool children brought together 16 studies involving 1,560 children. It found benefits associated with Forest School across several areas, including cognitive function, motor coordination and balance, connection with nature, and health and wellbeing. That’s pretty impressive. But if you’re thinking this all sounds great in theory, but in practice it’s just children running wild in the woods while the adults have a nice cup of coffee… you might be surprised.

So, what does the science actually say?

Over the last few years, there has been an increasing amount of research into what happens when children are given opportunities to learn in natural environments. A 2022 systematic review looked at 147 studies investigating nature-specific outdoor learning across different educational settings. The researchers found evidence of increased engagement and ownership of learning, improvements in social and collaborative skills, and improvements in aspects of self-concept, alongside some evidence of academic benefits. But (this is important) we shouldn’t take this research as proof that simply putting children outside automatically makes them happier, healthier or cleverer. The quality of the evidence varied, and the researchers highlighted the need for better-quality research to understand exactly which types of outdoor learning work best, for whom, and under what circumstances. The same caution applies to the Forest School-specific research. The 2023 review found promising evidence but also highlighted limitations in the existing evidence base. So, we’re not at the point where we can say “Forest School definitely causes all of these benefits.” But the evidence is certainly interesting.

Why might nature have these effects?

One possible explanation comes from Attention Restoration Theory. The basic idea is that our attention can become fatigued when we’re constantly having to concentrate, filter information and respond to things around us. Natural environments can work differently. Instead of demanding our attention, nature tends to capture it gently. The movement of leaves, birdsong, clouds or insects can hold our attention without requiring the same sustained effort as many of the things we encounter in everyday life.

Spending time in nature may therefore give our attention a chance to recover.

And the wider research supports the idea that being outdoors can benefit more than just our attention. A 2024 systematic review of school-led nature interventions in children and young people found evidence of improvements in areas including positive mood, physical activity and social relationships. So perhaps there is something to that feeling we get after spending time outside. The benefit that is hardest to measure is the one I care about most. Our relationship with nature. This is where I think Forest School is particularly special. When children return to the same natural environment again and again, they don’t just visit it. They get to know it. They learn which trees are which. They notice the first spring flowers appear. They recognise the birds they hear. They discover creatures hiding beneath logs. They see how the same place changes throughout the seasons. Slowly, a collection of trees, plants and muddy paths becomes somewhere familiar. Somewhere that belongs to them. And I think that connection matters. Because if children grow up feeling connected to the natural world, hopefully they’ll grow into adults who feel that it’s worth protecting.

Will Forest School save the world? Probably not.

But if it can help raise a generation of children who understand, appreciate and feel connected to the natural world, perhaps it can help make the future a little brighter.

Read more at Growing Roots Forest School CIC

investigation. A hundred questions about birds, trees and clouds. It’s a reminder that nature

is full of wonder if we simply slow down enough to notice it.

Hi, I’m Ruby – woodland wanderer, conservation enthusiast, and collector of random wildlife

facts.

I’ve been fascinated by nature and the natural world for as long as I can remember. From

trying to catch seagulls and stroke swans as a toddler, attending the wildlife photographer of

the year award annually with my mother as a teenager, to dreaming of being the next David

Attenborough. I’ve always wanted my life and career to be based around nature.

This eventually led to me attending university as a mature student and gaining my

undergraduate degree in Zoology. Living and being in the Cornish countryside for those

three years only grew my love, although I quickly realised that collecting data, calculating

population equilibriums and biological analysis weren’t really my ‘thing’.

No, what I’m good at is talking about it! I loved telling my friends all about what I had learnt,

watching them listen with fascination, and understand concepts that they previously didn’t

think they could because they weren’t ‘good’ at science.

I’m a firm believer that science and nature aren’t difficult to understand, they’re just too often

explained in a way that feels inaccessible. It’s no wonder so many people switch off.

And that’s why I’m here – you’re friendly neighbourhood nature nerd, sifting through the

science so you don’t have to. No overcomplicated concepts. No jargon. Just the wonders of

the natural world, in plain English.

What can you expect from me on this blog? I want to get you outside in nature, watching,

thinking and hopefully inspiring you to ask your own questions! I will write about

• Seasonal wildlife guides

• Fun activities to do with friends or family

• What to look for on your next walk

• Honest answers to the questions you’ve always wondered

As a mum, I now get to see nature through the eyes of my son. Watching him stop to inspect

a snail or become fascinated by a feather, reminds me of why I fell in love with the natural

world all those years ago.

And that’s the beauty of Forest School – it nurtures that natural curiosity, not just in children

but in all of us.

Whether you’re heading out to walk the dog, going to Forest School, or just wondering why

the leaves change colour – I hope to answer your questions, spark a few new ones, and help

you see the natural world a little differently.

So, grab your wellies, follow your curiosity and let’s see where nature takes us!

Read more at Growing Roots Forest School CIC