For many years, I lived in London flats where outdoor space was a window that opened or a balcony with a ramekin for cigarette butts. Now, I have finally moved to the outskirts of London to get a house with a garden. It is currently unkempt, but I can picture a gorgeous space with wildflowers. A garden is its own ecosystem, and I am excited to cultivate mine.
Having a garden should not feel like a flashy milestone, but after living without green space for so long, it feels life-changing. It is not about status or square footage; it is about having somewhere to breathe that is not shared with a thousand other people. The small things excite me: drinking tea outside without bumping into strangers, standing on grass with my two kittens, and sitting somewhere not within arm's reach of my bed.
My cats have only seen outside through a window. The thought of them pottering around, sniffing real plants, and playing safely is heartwarming. I want a garden that is alive rather than tidy – planting things that help bees, wildflowers, and herbs, letting it grow messily. That feels achievable.
My relationship with nature has shifted. After years in rented flats, nature was something curated – a park or zoo visit. A garden changes that; it is not scheduled but just there. It is a space to call my own, shared with the natural world. Things grow whether I pay attention or not, and not everything lasts. In a filtered, overthought world, that is calming.
Through work with conservation charity On the Edge, I have seen how much difference a small connection to nature makes. A recent survey found that two-thirds of people are at their happiest when connected to nature. You do not need to be an expert; it starts with paying attention. I look forward to noticing more and sharing space with bees, birds, foxes, and my cats.
