A number of our students took part in the Tree Council’s Story in Nature Competition for the chance to have their poem or story published in an e-book and win a subscription to Science and Nature magazine, Amazon voucher and have their words featured in a ‘Voices in Nature’ immersive installation!
We are incredibly proud of the talented writers and so wanted to share their work with you. Good luck to all of our entries – we have our fingers crossed for you!
Mirren (Year 10)
Home
Walking through the forest with my head held high,
Listening to the crickets croak and the crows cry.
The gravel path crackling beneath my feet.
Step, crunch, crack, repeat.
Memorising the route near the lake as I roam,
This is the place that I call home.
Tilting my chin up to the tree’s falling and wilting leaves,
Losing its covering, he silently grieves.
Grieves for the ones who have fallen in his name
And watches his siblings do the same.
Even through the winter months, I admire him in the gloam,
This is the place that I call home.
Placing myself down on the rock next to the river
I lower my fingers inside and shiver.
It accommodates itself to my hand, manoeuvring around,
It knows me well. It knows when to listen to the ones it will surround.
Crystal blue paints my hand, leaving a gentle foam,
This is the place that I call home.
Rising up, I continue my journey down the trail.
I inhale deeply and regard every detail.
Glancing to my right, the rolling runnel continues to follow
Sat obediently on a rock, I see a baby swallow,
Drinking cheerfully and sitting in shalom,
This is the place that I call home.
Looking towards the end of the trail,
I find myself grinning every time, without fail.
But as always, everything begins to fade away.
I try to grasp onto it, but I hear myself say,
“Leave it be, let the memories roam.”
Because that was the place I used to call home.
Akhina (Year 10)
The forest feels like a dream as the morning light spills through the trees, golden and soft, almost too perfect to be real. Everything glows faintly, as though the air itself is alive. Sunbeams catch on the delicate mist that clings to the ground, turning it into a shimmering veil that shifts with every breath of wind. Each movement, each sound feels deliberate, as if the forest is performing some ancient ritual hidden from the outside world.
A gentle rustle draws my gaze upward, where the leaves seem to whisper to one another in a language I can’t understand. High above, a bird takes flight, its wings slicing through the sunlight with effortless grace. Its call echoes, clear and sharp, before fading into the distance. The air is cool, with a faint sweetness that smells of wildflowers, moss, and the promise of rain.
The stream winds its way through the forest, its waters glimmering like they’ve been sprinkled with stardust. As I kneel beside it, the sound of the flowing water feels like a song—soft, ancient, and alive. Tiny ripples dance over smooth stones, tracing patterns that vanish as quickly as they appear. I reach out, my fingers grazing the surface. The water is cold but inviting, carrying with it the quiet energy of the forest itself.
A butterfly drifts past, its wings painted in colours too vivid for the ordinary world. It flutters in lazy spirals, dipping through a shaft of sunlight that makes it glow like a tiny flame. Around it, wildflowers bow and sway, their petals trembling as though in greeting. Each bloom is perfect, impossibly vibrant, as if the forest has brushed them with its own magic.
The deeper I wander, the more the forest changes. Shadows stretch and twist, flickering like quiet movements just out of reach. The air hums faintly, like a distant melody, subtle and full of secrets.
Time seems to slip away here, melting into the rhythm of rustling leaves and bubbling water. It’s not frightening—just strange and wonderful, like stepping into a place untouched by the ordinary world.
I rest against an ancient tree, its bark cool and rough beneath my hand. I can feel its strength, its roots stretching deep into the earth. Around me, the forest feels alive in a way I’ve never noticed before. The birdsong, the murmur of the stream, the soft sway of the flowers—they weave together into something more than sound. It’s a presence, as though the forest itself is watching, listening, and breathing with me.
Everywhere I look, there’s something worth pausing for—a leaf catching the light, the ripples in the water, the way the air shifts when the breeze stirs. The beauty of the forest isn’t loud or showy. It’s in the small things, in the details that might be easy to miss if you’re rushing through life. Nature doesn’t demand attention, but if you stop and listen, you realize how much it has to offer. The more I slow down, the more I see, and in that quiet, I understand just how much we miss when we’re too busy to notice.
Gabriela (Year 10)
My Mother
The voice of my Mother calls to me,
A melody of peace, gentle and free.
Soothing whispers in the wind’s sweet song,
Calming the chaos where hearts belong.
She holds me close when fear takes flight,
A tender embrace in the darkest night.
Her aura, a green that dreams and flows,
A quiet strength that forever grows.
Soggy and fluffy, she cradles me near,
A shelter of warmth, erasing all fear.
Her surface is ridged, some soft, some strong,
A tapestry where both shadows belong.
In her hands, enemies may rest,
For in her embrace, none are oppressed.
She is the symbol of hope’s pure grace,
A protector of hearts, in every space.
In her presence, the world finds its way,
A Mother’s love, come what may.
My Mother fury, is wild and untamed,
Her winds howl fiercely, her storms unclaimed.
Rains that batter, lightning that strikes,
Her anger is a force that none can hike.
Mountains crumble, rivers rise,
Her wrath is felt beneath the skies.
Yet we, the destroyers, tear at her skin,
Cutting, burning, digging deep within.
We scar her face with hands of greed,
Planting the seeds of our own need.
The forests fall, the oceans churn,
As we take and take, without return.
Her rage, our reflection, in every way.
We build, we break, we rise, we fall,
In our destruction, we learn to grow,
In our hearts, the Earth’s love we know.
For though we rage, we too embrace,
This fragile world, our sacred space.
The trees, the Earth, my heart entwined,
In Nature’s arms, I am defined.
Mason (Year 8)
The Thing About Nature
Help save nature
It was here before we were
It helps us survive
If everyone helped a little bit
Man and nature would be in harmony
When we allow a forest to thrive
The animals become bees in a hive
Being in nature is quite tranquil
It helps ease the stresses of the day
The best thing about it is that you
don’t have to pay.
So, bear in mind these things, because
us and climate change are
rapidly getting rid of them
and remember there is no Planet B!
though NASA is trying to see if humans
can live on other planets, it won’t be
like earth so please try to help
Save nature, and the world
Billy (Year 8)
The Beach
The wind whooshes like rushing water
Blowing the wispy grass fiercely to and fro,
As I clamber over the dunes and onto the beach.
Wading birds forage for food in the wet sand
As the waves gently lap against the shore,
ending their journey.
The calls of countless gulls echo around the beach head.
Worm casts form a tiny mountain range,
One you have to crouch to see.
Here, I am at peace.
Natalie (Year 7)
Are you bothered?
In the morning the sun shines.
I yawn whilst stepping out of bed.
I pull open the curtains.
Then I see factories.
And my smile fades.
Big tubes exhaling thick white smoke.
Killing this world that is already in such a mess.
Beyond that I see saws cutting down trees.
Making room for plantations and buildings.
Murdering nature, animal homes and releasing greenhouse gases.
Imagine your home had just been taken away.
How lost and confused you would be?
Now can you see?
Act now while we still have a chance to make a change.
In any forest it’s so magical!
Full of the smell of wet wood and grass,
When you touch the trees you feel connected to nature.
You hear animals hunting and birds gracefully flying.
All of this taken away for humans sake.
I climb down the stairs and walk outside into my garden.
I look out and I hope to see birds and animals.
But instead I see a mountain of litter way taller than me.
Tractors coming in and out every three seconds,
Dumping even more rubbish on the already heaving pile of trash.
If we didn’t use single waste products this would’ve never been in such a mess.
Beyond that is the beach where I see litter pickers of every age picking up litter.
I walk towards my living room and switch on the Television.
It flicks on to the news, images appear of environmental activists protesting for what is right.
So it shows that it is possible to change this messy world.
But people just can’t be bothered.
Are you bothered?