There’s something about the beginning of a new year that feels like a deep inhale—an invitation to pause, look around, and decide what truly matters. For me, nature has always been the place where everything makes sense again. I am, at heart, the dune daisy sunrise girl: the one who wakes early to catch those first blushes of morning light, who feels most at home barefoot on sand, who believes the sky speaks if we just stop long enough to listen.
This year, I want to encourage you to return to that simple magic. To step outside more. To look up more. To let nature color our days with its quiet wisdom.
We live in a world that constantly asks us to move faster, think harder, and juggle more. But nature invites the opposite. When you stand under a sunrise, everything slows. The oranges, pinks, and soft golds spilling across the sky have a way of reminding you that beauty doesn’t need to be complicated. It just is. And we get to witness it, if we choose.
Imagine lying on the ground more often—feeling the earth underneath you, cool or warm depending on the season, steady and supportive. Look up at the sky the way children do: with curiosity instead of urgency. Watch the clouds drift and reshape themselves, forming dragons, ships, faces, entire worlds for your imagination to play in. This simple act is grounding in a way few things are. It reconnects you to your body, your breath, and the bigger rhythms of life that are so easy to forget in the noise of daily tasks.
Nature has a language and it speaks in colors. When we take time to notice these colors, we remember how vibrant the world truly is. We remember that we are part of something vast and beautiful.
So this year, can we all try—really try—to be more present in nature?
Get up early, even when the bed is warm and the alarm feels unkind. I promise: sunrise is always worth it. Take more walks without earbuds. Let your soundtrack be birds, breeze, footsteps, and silence.
When we allow ourselves to simply be in nature—no multitasking, no rushing, no needing to “achieve” something—it changes us. It softens us. It reminds us that peace is not somewhere we have to travel to; it’s something we can cultivate by stepping outside and paying attention.
This new year, my hope is simple: more sunrises, more hikes, more cloud-watching, more star-gazing, more stillness. Let’s slow down enough to feel connected again. Let’s give ourselves the gift of being present. Let’s embrace nature not as an escape, but as a homecoming.
We can try. And I think—if we let it—nature will meet us halfway.
.jpg)