The Sanctuary of Nature in Difficult Times

In times of profound difficulty—when we are brought to our knees by illness, grief, or the sheer unpredictability of life—we often find ourselves drawn instinctively to the natural world. When language feels inadequate and solutions feel out of reach, nature becomes a quiet, unwavering presence.

Just last week, the Princess of Wales spoke movingly about how nature has supported her through a year of extraordinary personal challenge. In doing so, she expressed something many of us instinctively feel: that the natural world is not just restorative—it is essential.

The clocks have gone forward and there’s a real shift we can all feel. The light lingers longer into the evening, the air is warmer, and something subtle begins to lift in us too. These seasonal changes remind us that nothing stays still, but that growth is always happening—often quietly, beneath the surface, before we can even see it. In nature, change doesn’t need to be dramatic to be meaningful. It unfolds slowly, steadily and in doing so, shows us how to do the same.

For many people I support, nature becomes not a backdrop but an anchor. A walk along a familiar path, the sound of water, the warmth of sun on skin—these small rituals offer reassurance when life feels uncertain. They bring us back into our bodies, into the present moment, into something larger than ourselves.

I remember feeling this very powerfully at the height of the COVID-19 lockdowns. Like so many others, I was suddenly working remotely, socially distanced from loved ones and leaving the house only for essentials. I craved a break from the overbearing presence of screens, the constant buzz of news and the disconnection that came from too much time indoors. Simply getting outside, even briefly, reset something in me. My attention span lengthened. My breath deepened. I returned feeling more rested, more present and more hopeful.

What I—and so many others—was experiencing is also backed by a growing body of evidence. We now understand that time spent in nature lowers stress, improves mood, sharpens memory and supports emotional regulation. In as little as five minutes, a short walk in green space can calm the nervous system and interrupt the constant cycle of overthinking. Regular time outdoors not only soothes us in the moment but helps build the longer-term resilience we need to withstand future challenges.

For those living with anxiety, depression or trauma, time in nature can feel like the only space that doesn’t demand anything in return. It doesn’t require explanation or performance. It allows us to show up exactly as we are.

Of course, not everyone has immediate access to wild places. In dense cities or high-pressure environments, it can be difficult to find the space and time to pause. But even then, nature offers small ways back to ourselves—a tree outside a window, the feel of fresh air on our face, the sound of birdsong on the way to work. These quiet interactions matter. They remind us we are not separate from the natural world, but a part of it.

Technology, while a lifeline in many ways, has pulled us further away from this connection. Screens fill our vision, occupy our thoughts and flatten our experience of time. Nature, by contrast, invites us into our senses. It restores our attention and makes space for deeper thought. It brings us home to ourselves.

The Princess’s reflections were a powerful reminder that healing is not always linear, and that we all need places—physical and emotional—where we can rest, recover and reimagine the path ahead. Nature offers such a place. A landscape that is not about perfection but about process. Not about stillness, but about ongoing change.

As the days lengthen and the earth continues its ancient rhythms, I hope we each find a moment to pause. To step outside. To notice the wind in the trees or the sun on our faces. Because in doing so, we remember that we too are part of something vast and enduring—and that even in our hardest times, there is still growth, still beauty and still hope.