Tristan Gooley shares his top tips for reading the landscape around you, and tells us what he’s looking forward to at Wealden Festival 2026. Find out more about the event and book tickets here.
Your books encourage people to notice the world around them in new ways, from the shape of the trees to patterns in the sky. What first sparked your fascination with natural navigation?
I was pretty restless as a kid, and I worked out early on that I really enjoyed setting off on journeys, particularly shaping my own routes. I found choosing to climb a small hill on my own more exciting than being led up a mountain, and over the years the journeys got bigger.
To borrow Sir Ben Okri’s quote, ‘The poetry left the physics’, but for me, the poetry left navigation. On long expeditions, navigation became all about kit: staring at screens and dials and managing systems. So I decided to turn it on its head, and it was a mind blowing moment to start making small journeys using only nature as my guide.
What’s a simple way someone can start reading the landscape around them differently?
It starts with a shift in philosophy. It’s very simple, but incredibly powerful. Instead of seeing randomness, we begin to believe that everything we see and sense is trying to tell us something. There’s a reason behind every detail we notice and, once we appreciate that, everything becomes a clue: every leaf, cloud, breeze and sound.
We don’t have to understand it all straight away. The next time you notice something, it doesn’t need to be dramatic. It could be a ripple in a pond or the shape of tree branches. Simply ask yourself, why is it like that? That small question is the beginning of learning to read the clues in nature.
You often write about slowing down and paying attention to small details. Do you think nature writing can change the way we experience everyday life?
It certainly has for me. I wrote a book many years ago called The Natural Explorer, and in it I asked: how do we define exploration? For me, three things are needed. We have to go on some kind of journey, however small. It could last five minutes. We have to make a discovery of some sort, and then we have to share it.
Nature writing plays an important role in all three, but especially in discovery and sharing. What sets my work slightly apart from some other nature writing is that I don’t think my own subjective experience or identification alone is enough to be worth sharing. There are extraordinary writers who describe how they feel on seeing a butterfly, for example, and that brings huge joy to readers. I have no criticism of that at all.
But I was an instructor before I was a writer, and my aim is to help readers experience these things for themselves. I only write about things that have transformed my own experience of the world, and only if I believe I can help others experience something similar too.
Are there any seasonal signs, patterns or behaviours people should be looking out for at this time of year?
Yes, I think natural navigation is wonderful because, like nature itself, it’s always giving us something new to notice. There’s no bad season for it, but at this time of year, when the days are long, we have fantastic opportunities to learn from plants and wildlife.
One simple thing to look out for is patches of flowers all facing the same direction. They’re effectively creating a natural compass, orienting themselves towards the strongest light, which in the UK comes from the southern sky. Once you start noticing patterns like that, you begin to realise just how many clues the landscape is offering us all the time.
And finally, what are you most looking forward to about appearing at the festival?
Well the line-up looks fantastic, and festivals always bring together energy from lots of different directions. I don’t yet know what the audience will be like, but I have a strong feeling this will be a festival full of curiosity, ideas and inspiration, for speakers as much as audiences.
I’ve never been to a festival and not learned something new. I can’t predict what that will be this time, but that sense of discovery is part of the joy, and it’s what I’m most looking forward to.
