Dear Passenger,
Come join us for a moment. Close your eyes and wake up here, in the heat of the early morning sun. Help pull on the zip, open our tent out to the world and allow the fresh air to tenderly awaken our senses. To the smell of grass. The sound of a bee as it idly flies across the field in front of us, pulling our gaze to all the people emerging out of their tents. Brushing teeth. Stretching. Gentle laughter passing from tent to tent.
"Come step out of the tent, feel our bare feet touch the ground and the sense of belonging, to the earth and this community of people."
I have never experienced this before. Camping in a field filled with queer womxn and non-binary people of colour. Have you? I’m not used to seeing so many brown and black bodies all together in nature here in the UK.
Come step out of the tent, feel our bare feet touch the ground and the sense of belonging, to the earth and this community of people.
"The thing about nature is that it doesn’t judge you. It doesn’t say you should be this or you should be that. When I’m in nature, I feel free."
Yesterday we went on a hike. As we climbed, conversation flowed and whispers of new friendships tangled in the plants around us, flowing down into the roots below. Wild flowers proudly presented themselves along the sides of the path, bright colours standing true to themselves.
Stopping for a break, face turned up to catch the sun’s rays, L turns to me. “The thing about nature is that it doesn’t judge you. It doesn’t say you should be this or you should be that. When I’m in nature, I feel free.”
Join us as we climb higher and higher, watching the earth spiralling away below, towns and villages becoming miniature toys in the distance.
"Taking hold of my hand, M squeezes it and my throat swells with emotion: joy mixed with sorrow at what I had not even known I had been missing. The freedom of being accepted as I am by nature and those around me."
At the top, words are whipped away by the wind and we stand together, looking out. Taking hold of my hand, M squeezes it and my throat swells with emotion: joy mixed with sorrow at what I had not even known I had been missing. The freedom of being accepted as I am by nature and those around me. Have you ever felt that?
Queer joy.
Now that you are comfortable with us, we can show you this joy. You will be able to see it as we play games, falling into the grass with laughter as the losing team’s captain calls to the judge for a re-match.
Our joy in the soft silence of our morning meditation, where we turn our attention inwards, to the body and breath and the power of self-acceptance.
Our joy over shared food, skin glowing fresh from a day in the sun, a day in nature, a day of coming as our authentic selves, taking time together and time alone.
Our joy spilling over, flying into the beat of music pulsating through our bodies as we dance.
Our joy glinting off the water, swirling into the current of the river. The sharp cold turning into a refuge from the heat of the sun.
Our joy in connection, in expressing our love, our vulnerability and the peace of being seen and heard just as we are.
Until next time,
Roshan
We're proud to have been able to support Touch Grass' Reverie Retreat earlier this summer, a joyful weekender of laughing and meaningful time spent outdoors.
Touch Grass is a London-based outdoor community for queer women and non-binary people of colour, born from “a need for community, at a time when people felt lonely and isolated”. They bring people together through thoughtfully curated gatherings and retreats—acts of unity, creativity, and intention.
