Opening my eyes to nature — a relationship of twenty years

Poor John, it’s only taken him twenty years to finally get me to fully appreciate and understand ‘the’ Nature.

John, my husband, is an ecologist, a fisheries expert and an all round ‘nature boy’. Growing up in seventies Bury, most of his childhood stories are of playing, fishing and exploring the nearby Lancastrian countryside. As children he and his friends had total freedom and never feared the woods or grassy terrains that us city kids did.

Apart from some very early years in Bridgend, with fond memories of Ogmore by Sea, my childhood was spent in inner city Cardiff. If you know Cardiff, you’ll know the delights of City Road — then, a high street made up of car showrooms with floor to ceiling windows, today a mile of neon, strip lit takeaways with small chinks of gentrification trying its best to impose coffee shops and stripped floorboarded eateries to attract the changing demographic.

My junior school was on Albany Road, a Victorian structure with the typical and long unused ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ entrances and a concrete playground — not a blade of greenery in sight. Before classes started we’d lean over the deep set window sills watching pigeons on rooftops and gawping at the early risers waiting for Woolies, Kwik Save and the Post Office to open. My day to day life was spent in and around rows of identical terraced houses, the launderette, the Spar (both of which my friend’s mum worked shifts) and a couple of corner shops (one owned a black collie cross called Lucky who roamed the streets day and night —those were the days!).

I paint a kitchen sink picture, but we were lucky to have a beautiful park and gardens called Roath Park about a thirty minute walk away. It had, and still has, a fabulous children’s play area. My friends and I had many mishaps on the boating lake and in later years we occasionally ‘mitched’ (that was our word for skive) off school doing not a lot while roaming around the three stretches of its park area.

So, while John was discovering nature and having adventures with wildlife, I was pounding the concrete slabs of the city. This explains why he knows the names of every tree, hedge, flower and bird — while I (at the age of 43) am only just learning.

When I met John in 1997 I thought it quaint and cute that he’d point out the fish in the river or stop what he was saying to point out some kind of hawk swooping across the sky. This was lovely, but in truth I didn’t pay that much attention — just a polite ‘oooh’ or ‘aaah’ in acknowledgement.

Perhaps the switch happened when our little Terrier made us explore new places for a change of scenery, perhaps it was merely an accumulation of John’s nature spotting and noticing. Around four years ago I became more at home in natural surroundings. I became less fearful of ‘the’ nature, which to me had meant stinging bees, nettles and strangers lurking behind trees (I know!). I’ve since welcomed a houseful of plants and my favourite places in the world are those filled with nature and my very own garden.

I wonder what sort of person I’d be if I’d known nature earlier in my life. Perhaps calmer, less anxious — John is the most laid back person you’ll ever meet, contrary to my innate up-tightness. I wonder if my allergies would be less extreme.

What I do know is that being in nature and in natural settings gives me a sense of calmness combined with feeling overwhelmed by the life that goes on around us in birds, animals, plants and trees. The changing seasons are no longer bookmarked by fashion collections. I have a greater sense of preserving our natural settings and I truly appreciate life outside of the sprawling cities and mostly outside of my own head.

So I’ll end with a thank you to my wonderful husband, who has not only given me an adventurous 20 years but has truly opened my eyes. The best gift of all.