Taylor has reconnected with nature — and it’s time for us to follow suit
We all have something in common with Taylor Swift: as kids, we were fascinated by nature.
Some of us were obsessed with bugs, others with the thrill of reaching high branches. Some built sandcastles, others fairy gardens, others tree houses.
I fondly recall putting on my tutu and wings and spending the afternoon playing in my daffodil patch.
But then I grew up. As time passed, I started to notice time as an entity in and of itself. As a child, I never wondered if spending an afternoon building fairy houses was a ‘good use of my time’, but fast-forward two decades, and I was struggling to justify a morning walk before work. Time had come to dictate my days, mood and self-worth.
But 2020 brought a perfect storm: the continuation of COVID restrictions and the release of folklore and evermore.
A year earlier, I couldn’t justify a morning stroll, and now, walks were keeping me sane. I could only leave the house for an hour every day, and I spent every second of it meandering along the river path, sitting in the park and breathing in the fresh air.
And when I wasn’t walking, I was listening to folklore and evermore on repeat. I was listening to Taylor sing about pacing the rocks, auroras and sad prose, balancin' on breaking branches, purple pink skies, an eclipsed sun, cliffside pools and watching wisteria grow right over her bare feet… and I realised she too had returned to her roots.
folklore’s cover shows Taylor in a forest, eyes fixed on the canopy, dwarfed by the tall trees, just another human being inspired by the grandeur of nature.
folklore’s lyrics reference nature 700% more than the songs in the Top 100 at the time of the album’s release.
evermore followed shortly after, giving us autumn chills, a bending willow tree, frozen swims, clover blooming in the fields, the bluest skies painted the darkest gray, growing ivy, spring breaking loose and a glimmer of a comet in the sky.
These albums are 2020’s zeitgeist. They capture our collective longing for freedom, expansive spaces, tall trees, fresh air, exploration and meaning.
And Taylor’s music has been grounded in nature ever since.
You can’t imagine 1989 (Taylor’s Version) without imagining white sand, blue skies, foamy waves, a symphony of seagulls, salt-crushed hair and sun-kissed arms.
Red (Taylor’s Version) evokes country roads, thick woodlands and autumn leaves.
And, in Midnights, the moon, stars and night sky are inspiration, clarity and salvation for those brave enough to keep their eyes open.
The fact that Taylor’s reconnection with nature prompts, parallels and portrays our own is significant.
First, it makes listening to her music all the more relatable and moving.
Second, it represents a guiding light in an era of uncertainty.
We’ve all seen the headlines. From coral bleaching and deforestation to melting ice caps and endangered species, the nature crisis feels insurmountable.
But there is something we can do to turn the tide: we can strengthen our connection with nature.
This might seem like a cop-out. You might be wondering how spending your weekends biking, hiking, rafting, foraging, exploring, surfing or sailing could possibly turn the tide on the climate and nature crises… but one of the most impactful things you can do as an individual is foster your community’s value of nature.
If you spend time in nature, if you take your parents with you, if you talk about your adventures with friends, you will be fostering community values, and hopefully, setting off a chain reaction within your community that slowly but surely prompts people to stand for nature’s protection and restoration.
You see, community is a far more powerful force than politics. We knowingly and unknowingly adopt the values and habits of the people around us.
Community is who we are, what we value, how we spend our time and how we vote.
So, get obsessed with bugs again, build a fairy garden or get into bird-watching. Or put on a white dress, find a woodland and recreate the folklore album cover. Or listen to Midnights while staring at the night sky. Or go on a country road trip singing the 10-minute version of All Too Well.
Taylor’s lyrics are proof we’ve lost our way and a bridge back to what matters. It’s time for us to retrace our steps back to childhood, before we lost sight of what matters, when we were dirty, silly, adventurous and delightfully content. It’s time for us to get back to our roots and encourage everyone around us to follow suit.
