Treading softly

Hello, from a wild and windy Scone in NSW.

Soil Sister - Kylie Woodham

Jul 05, 2025

Hello, from a wild and windy Scone in NSW.

One of the things I love about the principles of regenerative agriculture is the “treading softly” mentality.

Treating our land, our country, our planet with respect.

Avoiding intervention through mechanical or chemical means.

Placing pressure on a system for a short period of time then allowing it to rest, recuperate and restore.

Coming back with diversity, vigour and growth.

The thing we sometimes forget is that we are part of that same system.

Of nature.

However much we want to stay turned on and tuned in, as humans, we are nature too.

It’s no revelation that when we reconnect with nature - forest bathe, garden, walk barefoot, that we feel better.

Nature. We are that system too.

I love this quote from Jodie Wilson,

“There are so few opportunities for quiet in our lives so of course we have to be intentional with creating it. I think one of the biggest, surest steps we can take is to turn away from screens and go outside. And if that isn’t possible, retreat to your cocoon; the part of your home that is warm, cosy and soft.”

Right now I’m curled into my bed.

It’s wild and windy outside and our farm cottage is shuddering from the force.

The house has lasted this long, it will probably last tonight too.

The rain sounds like darts hitting a target and would feel that way too if I stood outside.

House lights dim and ebb, threatening to turn off altogether.

I feel snug in my bed cocoon.

With the four walls all within touching distance.

No windows. But an electric blanket to keep me warm.

My nose is cold and the tips of my fingers too.

Some wild flame inside me loves this weather.

Adrenaline pulses through me when I should be sleeping.

My head leaning against the wall, feeling the vibration of the wind.

My eyes are wide when they should be shut.

I am alive.

Nature strutting her stuff on the other side of this barrier into the night.

Me held gently in my bed.

Suddenly it is quieter but further down the valley, I hear the storm continuing. Roaring and whistling. A river raging against its banks. The wind howls and comes back with such ferocity and power, I think we might be preparing for liftoff.

I pull the covers further upwards toward my neck and wriggle down the mattress.

As though my blanket fortress will save me from the wrath of weather raging outside.

This week I posted a quote about slowing down, especially in Winter.

It might not even be the season of Winter where you are, but maybe your body needs it to be Winter.

Right now, this storm state alongside the uncertainty of the world has me feeling a bit achy and antsy.

I’m also parenting four nearly grown up humans and doing my best to help them navigate this uncertainty.

How am I doing that?

As mindfully as I can.

I’m trying to set an example of being regenerative in everything I do.

Using my purchasing power for good (or avoiding purchasing when I can), trying to buy as many locally sourced products as possible.

Being kind to my own changing needs as I navigate being a woman growing older (yes, you heard it here first - menopause creeps up on us sharing gifts we never thought we needed).

Slowing down, just when I keep telling myself I need to speed up.

Nature always knows best.

When we look to her, she always has the answers.

Nothing in nature blooms all year round.

There is always time to rest. Recuperate. Rejuvenate.

We are just another tiny cog of nature.

We too are nature.

But the world keeps asking us to stay turned on.

Learn this.

Build that.

Earn more to be able to buy more.

Watch this.