Standing at the bank of a fast-running river I see majestic golden eagles circling over the wide stretched valley. Five of them hover right above me, in sharp contrast with the deep blue sky. Another two form tiny lines flying away towards the tip of the mountain. Not knowing if they are watching me or looking for prey, I move a little closer to the big overhanging willow beside me. In the river I see fish jumping out of the water to catch the insects that swarm above its surface.
Seconds later, two tiny kingfishers skim over the water, like fiery red and ultrafast marine rockets, hunting for the flying fish. One of them approaches and rests on the shirt I had stretched on a rock to dry. He looks at me as if to say: Want to find out who’s faster? Suddenly, he’s distracted. Across the water, something small and slender hides in the shade. A marten? Both the kingfisher and I hold our breaths. In an instant, both my bright blue friends leave the scene. For a minute, there is silence. All life seems to have disappeared. My eyes scan the riverbank. When I detect the marten, I see it sneaking away with something feathery in his mouth. I feel a strange sense of sorrow, but only for a short moment. Then two dragonflies cheer me up, making love while flying upside down. I try to imagine what that must feel like.
I bend forward to reach for the water. When my lips touch the ice-cold water, I slowly sip. It almost tastes sweet, though not in a sugary way. I feel how the cold water finds its way to my stomach. Is that the sound of someone else sipping? Just a few metres away, I see a deer drinking from the same source.
This was my experience concluding a hike in the COA valley of Portugal. I was taken there by Alex, a guide from Rewilding Europe, an NGO focused on growing biodiversity. He asked me to sit down silently and observe the surroundings. He explained that less than 30 years ago, this place had been an ecological desert. By protecting the area and helping nature recover by removing existing man-made structures and by re-introducing missing key species, they had been able to revive this valley. I realised that this is what our world could be like. Flourishing. And that we could be part of such a world.
Here is exactly where I believe a massive yet exciting challenge lies for architects, engineers and designers: Can we design ‘tools’ that allow us to be part of ecosystems so they can flourish instead of having to make way for our built environment? Could we design a package of ‘gear’ that would give us the comfort and safety to allow for modern life in nature? Could we improve both the health of our planet and our own health by making nature our home again?