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Young Category (5-8 Years)
Winner: Iyla Mandair, Age 6 - Hallfield School
Gill's Comments
This story transported me into the life of a bird – seeing the world through a bird’s eyes. The story allows us to see the harm humans can cause and also how we can care for the world around us. It allows us to empathise and care for the lives of small creatures in the human world, in this planet that we share.
Gill McLay added: Joyous is how I would describe this piece and I love the idea of taking a diary and telling it from the bird’s point of view. What a wonderful way to introduce us to their world!
A Day in the Life of a Bird
Dear Diary,
I woke up in my itchy, brown nest and ate a pink, slimy worm for my breakfast. I knew I had a busy day ahead of me, so I began my journey, flying through the blue, soft sky.
The first place I saw was a beautiful garden. One bench was broken, while on another bench, Iyla’s grandparents sat calmly, watching birds share food from their bird feeder. Beautiful baby birds chirped as they pecked at the seeds, making sure everyone had enough to eat. I felt a little jealous of their delicious meal, but also happy that Iyla’s grandparents were sharing their garden with my family.
I kept flying and before long I saw a yellow, noisy truck digging up a wood to build some new houses for humans. I spotted a white and brown deer looking gloomy as he watched his home being destroyed. I could not help feeling sorry for him as I watched him watch his home being taken away.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of a single nut falling from a nearby oak tree. I looked over and saw two fluffy, dark brown squirrels fighting over the nut. They looked at each other for a minute and then began chasing the nut as it rolled away into the soft grass. One of the squirrels got hold of the nut and decided, after thinking for a second, to share it with his friend. I felt happy that I had seen them sharing their snack.
It was time for me to go home and think about everything I had seen on my journey. I thought about the kindness I had seen, but also about the selfishness of some humans destroying the natural world.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep, hoping humans would remember to share our planet.
Second: Milan Lamba, Age 6 - Forest Prep School, Timperley
Gill's Comments
A beautiful telling of noticing the small moments around us and looking for the extraordinary in the ordinary, reminding us of the small creatures we share this world with. I loved the sentence, ‘Sometimes I think mornings hide little surprises on purpose’. It made me feel that the world wants to share its beauty with us and is trying to get us to notice.
Gill McLay added: Very accomplished and well written - I can’t believe this is in the youngest category! It’s a joy to read and flows beautifully.
Morning Collector
My friend Jasper collects football cards
My little brother collects toy cars
I collect mornings
People smile when I tell them
They think I’m joking
But I’m not
Every morning is different
You just have to notice
One morning the grass was sparkling so much that it looked as if someone had scattered tiny diamonds all over it
Another morning I found a snail eating Dad’s lettuce
Dad looked cross
The snail looked hungry
So I think the snail won
One morning a robin landed right by my trainer
It tipped its head at me as if it wanted to tell me a secret
Before I could guess what it was, it flew away
My favourite morning was when I watched a bee disappear into a purple flower
When she came back out, her legs were covered in yellow pollen
She looked as though she’d borrowed fluffy golden boots
Sometimes I think mornings hide little surprises on purpose
A feather that falls from nowhere
A spider putting the last thread into its web
The very first blackbird singing before the world wakes up
Most people rush past them
I like to stop
Because that’s when mornings show you their magic
Tomorrow there will be another one
I don’t know what I’ll find
Maybe a ladybird climbing to the very top of a leaf
Maybe a rainbow hiding in a puddle
Maybe something nobody has ever noticed before
That’s why I collect mornings
Because every single one feels like opening a tiny present
And you never know what’s inside.
Third: Sia Kim, Age 7 - St Joseph's Primary School, Kingston upon Thames
Gill's Comments
Very imaginative, almost mythical telling of a story. The narrative arc was powerful, drawing us in, and how the narrator changes their mind. The transportation between the different places felt like a dystopian whirlwind and unsettling. It made me think about what we could lose and the urgency we need for change.
Gill McLay added: Well written and challenging but also entertaining - you want to carry on reading! The premise is clever and the writing very strong!
A Voice for Nature
It was a lovely morning, or so it seemed.
I was sitting in my hammock, without a care in the world. Well, one care. Back then, I did not like animals at all.
“What use are they?” I complained, “A human world would be lovely!”
So I was just there, without knowing that people like me could end up endangering the planet.
“I wish animals would just go away!” I yelled.
“Oh, do you?” came the soft reply. The person who said it wasn’t any lady; it was a goddess!
I just looked at her, mouth open, not knowing what to say.
I had been so confident before, but I wasn’t sure of anything now.
Then, the goddess yanked me into a world of fire.
Flames constantly roared around me, and dust fogged the air (not that there was much air anyway). I felt sad, guilty as everything blurred.
The world halted as if it were a horse that had been ordered to stop. I saw my own face in a mirror the goddess had given me, and it looked melancholy, frozen. Who was I any more? Then I realised the painful, weary truth… I would not exist if animals didn’t.
But I had only a second to refresh myself, as the goddess pulled me into a (thankfully in the right world) rainforest. Everyone was battling, even the animals. For food, there was a war of torture. I gasped as trees bashed down near me, the lush leaves scattering. Suddenly, there came an icy wind as I felt my feet touch the ice of the Arctic. I saw that black smoke from pollution was clouding the sky, little by little. The creatures were attacking each other for essential things.
Two small polar bears were arguing over a large fish, almost tearing themselves to pieces. I turned, but my feet seemed to be stuck to the spot. I lost my balance, and toppled into the ice- cold water.
“Help!” I shrieked as I made an effort to keep my head out of the freezing depths.
A polar bear came close to me with a distrustful face.
“Help me, and I’ll help you,” I said.
The polar bear hesitated for a second, but pulled me out.
A moment later, I was back at home, breathless. The smile had been wiped from my face, as the sight of everything collapsing, the great world turning to darkness, had totally freaked me out.
The goddess turned to smile at me. Indicating everything, she said, “There is nothing like nature, so appreciate it.”
Well, that’s for all of us, isn’t it?
No littering, switching to electric cars, and not chopping down trees.
It was a lovely morning, and there was no doubt about it now.
It was a voice for nature, for harmony between us all.
So, next time you go out in the streets and have the temptation to litter, think, ‘Do you want the world to become hell?’
You’ll probably stop straight away.
Junior Category (9-12 Years)
Winner: Megan Searle, Age 11 - Cheney School, Oxford
Gill's Comments
This was an astonishing piece of writing. The descriptions are beautiful – it feels as if I am there – as if I am the swift too. I love the shape-shifting concept. I’m sure anyone who watches birds wonders at their flight, what it might be like to be them. This piece of writing helped us to seamlessly transform into a swift with the narrator and back again, but seeing the tiny details a swift might see, letting us consider our place in this shared world.
Gill McLay added: Lovely writing and a clever concept - I love the nature-loving aspect of the piece but also how you have added a fantastical element to make it more accessible to more readers!
Swift
The bird cuts through the air like a bullet. Its scythe-like wings allow it to swoop through the air, its sleek body twisting and diving. I watch from below, grounded, but breathless from the exhilaration of the show above. Its dark plumage stands out from the blue sky, its forked tail a beacon in the sunlight. For a second, I am that bird. I am the one living in harmony with all living things. I am the streamlined bird that swoops endlessly, turning and falling and pulling up. I am the swift. I lift my new wings uncertainly, waiting for an air current to catch me. The gust of wind throws me up, and I am twisting, falling, falling. I desperately open my wings and adjust my tail, thinking of the swift I had seen from the ground. Was that me now? Just like magic, I am soaring, riding the wind like I have been for years. Maybe in this body, in a way, I have. I sweep back my wings and twist my body, throwing myself around at the speed of lightning. I look down. Far, far below, I see the green park rolling out beneath me, swathes of grass swaying in the wind I am riding. In the trees rest magpies, their nests of iridescent feathers shining green, blue and then purple. I spot an ant nest, each little ant a part of the nest, important. Needed. Their little antennae move up and down as they communicate, their tiny mandibles carrying objects as big as them. A sparrow lands on the ground near a picnicking family, eyeing the food with its beady eyes. The little girl gets up and throws it some crumbs, smiling at the tilt of its small brown head. It pecks them up, then flutters into the sky, its wings beating hard to keep it airborne. I am gliding through the air now – finally having found the balance. I twist and tuck in my wings, spinning towards the ground. The wind slicks back my feathers, and, closing my forked tail into a thin, narrow point – to reduce the air resistance – I speed up, an arrow speeding down to earth. The ground is blurred, and rushing towards me. I open my eyes. I look down at my hands. Once more, I am girl. I think about my magical experience. The balance to fly. Just like the balance that us, as humans, have to have with nature. The world would be in chaos if one side took control. Just like the ants in their nests, and the girl and the sparrow. The world needs balance. I start home, fully human once more.
But I know, deep down, I am not only one thing. I am part girl, part swift. I am the balance. I am swift.
Second: Lainie Lewis, Age 10 - Law Primary School
Gill's Comments
An interesting and thought-provoking piece about wildfire in Oregon and comparing with the author’s home in Scotland. As wildfires rage around the globe, this brought the connectedness of all nations to act. The descriptions were excellent and I could almost taste the acrid air and the fine dust grains in my nostrils and in my hair. The bear provided the symbol of what we could lose and also hope for the future.
Gill McLay added: Very global in its feel. I like the way you bring together environmental messages, nature and animals.
Finding Hope in a Burned Forest
Hearing about Scottish wildfires from my mum makes me worry about my home in Scotland.
On our holiday in Oregon, USA, we were hiking the Eagle Creek trail to Punch Bowl Falls. Carefully following along a dry cliff edge dirt path, plumes of dust got into my shoes and through my thick, woollen socks! The fine grains even found their way into my nostrils and all through my hair.
We stopped for a rest and then I noticed the forest across the deep gorge, it had been consumed by fire. All the trees were black, clearly many had not survived throughout the wildfire. Some were still alive but there was no green to be seen! On some trees it looked as though they were wearing black dresses because of the way that the black from the fire had climbed up the gaps between each bit of chunky bark. Leaves were gone and animals were too. On a closer inspection I noticed that the ground of the barren forest was reviving, little plants and poison oak were growing on the ground! Poison oak grows in fire damaged habitats. Still no animals yet though! To see the forest in that state made me sad but at least it hadn’t given up! It made me even sadder to remember that damage like that was starting to happen near me too. Like the wildfire on Arthur’s Seat.
My sister grabbed me by my arm and whispered “what’s that?” I followed her gaze, I saw a black and shadowy shape crawling along a fallen and charred tree. It was A BLACK BEAR! An animal in the forest! It felt to me as though that bear was life changing! That bear was one ray of sunlight in the recovering forest! Curiously the bear explored the forest, minutes later it disappeared into some of the larger new undergrowth! That memory was one of my most magical moments!
Reflecting on that moment makes me feel worried about the changing climate caused by human activity. We have a responsibility to look after the planet and all the animals on it.
Third: Cliodhna Kelly-Edwards, Age 12 - St Mary's Academy, Menston
Gill's Comments
A powerful story about successful local activism. The story is told through Poppy who feels isolated in her feelings about the old Oak Tree. But through making people aware, to understand and care, the whole class comes to recognise the importance of protecting the tree and all the species it supports. They persist and win. The story clearly captures Poppy’s emotions and struggles. A reminder that local activism is needed to protect our shared world.
Gill McLay added: Relatable and well written - I like the nature and environmental message that is cleverly told through a very accessible story about Poppy and her class mates. The school based setting is a really clever way to talk through different responses to the same issue.
Under the Old Oak
When people walked past the old oak tree, they barely noticed it. To them, it was just another tree, but to Poppy, it was a whole city, teeming with life. Every afternoon, after school, she would sit beneath its sprawling branches, whilst above her, robins sang, squirrels played, and woodpeckers pecked. It was her favourite place to think.
Until one Monday, when everything changed:
‘SITE TO BE CLEARED FOR NEW DISTRIBUTION CENTRE
WORK TO COMMENCE: 13/07/26’
Poppy read the sign, feeling as if someone had punched her. The tree, which had stood since Tudor times, was to be pulled down, and the land around it flattened.
“They’re cutting down the old oak tree,” Poppy said to her classmates the next morning. “Who here will help me save it?”
The room fell to silence.
“It’s only a tree,” Jasper mumbled. “What’s the big deal?”
The others agreed.
Poppy slumped. She couldn’t understand why nobody cared. Maybe it was because they’d never noticed the 2,300 species that called the ancient tree ‘home’.
The following afternoon she took some photographs of the area; of butterflies, blue jays and starlings, and all the vibrant activity that flourished there, then worked them into a giant poster. ‘THIS ISN’T JUST A TREE’ it proclaimed, ‘IT’S AN ECOSYSTEM’. She pinned it up in class the next morning.
At first, most people just brushed past, then Gaia, captain of the netball team, stopped to look.
“Hmmn,” she said. I never knew all these creatures lived there.”
“326 species depend on it for survival,” Poppy said. “Come see for yourself,”
And so she did, that afternoon. But it wasn’t just Gaia who came, the whole class did too. They watched, rapt, as the giant, living, breathing city came to life around them.
“Is that a woodpecker?” asked Willow, hearing the tapping nearby.
“Yes,” Poppy said. “He’s thanking you all for coming.”
And that was just the start. They wrote a letter to the council, explaining why the tree should be protected, but were heartbroken when a response came back days later: No action was to be taken.
Poppy felt crushed. All that hard work for nothing.
“Not for nothing,” Gaia comforted. “You made people take notice.”
The following week, they organised a peaceful protest outside the council building: “TREES ARE HOMES TOO!”, they chanted. The media noticed, then the internet, then the whole world, and the council agreed to take another look at the plans.
Not long after, a new decision was announced: the distribution centre would still be built, but five miles east; the area around the tree wouldn’t be touched.
When Poppy returned to the old oak, she couldn’t help but smile. The animals would never know how many people had fought to protect their home, but she didn’t need their thanks. That the mighty tree would go on growing, and within its branches thousands of species would continue to live, sharing their home, at peace with themselves, and with us, was all the thanks she needed.
Senior Category (13-16 Years)
Winner: Olivia Telling, Age 14 - Farnborough Hill
Gill's Comments
An extremely well written non-fiction piece of writing – hugely informative about tigers and their roles as eco-system engineers, climate stabilisers and cultural touchstones. A lot of research has been condensed into 500 words to allow the reader to understand the importance of tigers. Some beautiful narrative non-fiction description to draw us in and make us feel we are there in the forest. The narrative non-fiction elevates this from purely a purely informative piece to an immersive and memorable piece of writing allowing us to reflect upon vital habitats needed to restore the natural world.
Gill McLay added: I love this! It’s beautifully written and so thoughtful but also dynamic. It draws the reader in brilliantly and you really want to know more.
Where Tigers Walk, the Planet Thrives
It was a dark damp morning in a gloomy forest; dew settled and mist fell under the canopy of the trees. It was so quiet you could hear even a butterfly’s wings flapping or the leaves rustling as a great creature strides out their luxurious paws along the forest floor. A mighty roar shakes the entire forest, birds flee squawking and chirping, animals burrow for safety as this magnificent beast wanders through.
Searching, seeking for the next victim to end up in their vicious jaw, this luxurious big cat was a tiger protecting and feeding her cubs. These cubs are about 16 months of age now, typically they leave their mother at around 18-20 months of age. When they leave their mother, they go out and find their own territory. A group of adult tigers are called an ambush of tigers and a mother tiger with her cubs is called a streak; it is rare to get a group of tigers (ambush of tigers).
When an unfamiliar tiger enters an established territory, the resident tiger typically defends his domain, resulting in loud vocalisations, scent-marking, and potentially dangerous, sometimes fatal physical clashes; this happens as tigers’ survival depends on exclusive access to hunting grounds and mates. If a tiger lives in a forest they do not live there alone, they become part of a complex layered community of animals, plants, and ecological processes. A tiger’s presence shapes the forest, influencing who lives there, how vegetation grows, and how the entire ecosystem functions.
Tigers are far more than beautiful animals, they are ecological engineers, climate stabilisers, and cultural touchstones whose survival is tightly linked to the health of our shared planet. Their influence reaches from the forest floor to global climate systems. Tigers help humans in more ways than most people realise. Even though we rarely meet them face-to-face, they quietly support our climate, our water, our forests, our economies, and even our cultures. When tigers thrive, humans benefit from this directly and indirectly. Tigers keep herbivore numbers (like deer and wild boar) under control. Without tigers, these animals overgraze, destroying young trees and damaging forests.
Healthy forests give humans: clean air, stable rainfall, cooler temperatures, protection from floods and droughts. Tigers are one of the reasons these forests stay intact. Tigers’ habitats overlap with nine major river systems in Asia. These forests act like giant sponges absorbing rain, filtering water, and releasing it slowly. This helps humans by: providing water, preventing soil erosion, reducing deadly floods and keeping rivers flowing in dry seasons. Over 830 million people rely on water from landscapes. Forests protected for tigers store massive amounts of carbon. When tigers keep ecosystems balanced, forests grow stronger and absorb more carbon from the atmosphere. This helps humans by reducing global warming, stabilising weather patterns and protecting agriculture; tiger conservation is a climate solution. Saving tigers means saving entire ecosystems. A single tiger territory can protect many different animals, humans rely on biodiversity for food, medicine, pollination, and healthy soil.
Second: Ela Uzture, Age 13 - Waldegrave School
Gill's Comments
A beautiful piece of writing that really celebrates the theme of ‘our shared planet’. Ela uses all the senses for descriptions, and I really feel I am there – witnessing the moment. I love these sentences; “It wasn't magic, and we weren't best friends. We were just two neighbors sharing a drink of water on the same planet.”. The physical simple act of sharing water – vital to all life – is a stark reminder of our essential shared needs.
Gill McLay added: I am transported straight into another world and I love the celebration of nature it offers as well as the calm for reflection.
Where the Valley Breathes
My alarm clock is a literal bird, and it doesn’t have a snooze button.
Every single morning at 5:30 AM, a blue jay thumps its beak against my window frame until I get out of bed. I’m Prue, I’m sixteen, and my family lives in a small wooden cabin nestled deep in an ancient pine valley. We don’t own this land, we silently live here, desperately trying to not disturb the other inhabitants of these woods.
Living amongst nature means your chores actually matter. Before I can even think about breakfast, I have to walk down to the creek to check our water filters. We use natural charcoal and leaf fibers to clean our water before it pumps back into the stream. The rule here is simple, whatever you take out of the earth, you put back cleaner than you found it.
I was crouching by the rocks, rinsing my hands in the cool water, when the forest went completely silent. No crickets. No birds. Nothing.
The grass across the water rustled. I froze, my hands still dripping in the freezing creek.
A massive elk stepped out of the morning mist. His antlers looked like giant, jagged tree branches, and his dark fur was covered in morning dew. He was easily seven hundred pounds of pure muscle, standing just ten feet away from me.
A few generations ago, a human would have reached for a rifle or screamed. Today, we know better. Or at least I do.
I didn’t move a muscle. I dropped my chin down to look at the pebbles at my feet, a universal sign of respect to a massive animal. I kept my hands open and flat on my knees so he could see I wasn’t holding anything dangerous. I breathed slowly, trying to keep my heart from pounding through my chest.
The elk stepped into the shallow water. The rocks crunched under his heavy hooves. He walked right up to the opposite bank, lowered his massive head, and started drinking from the pool right next to my filtration system. He was so close I could smell the damp earth and pine needles on his fur coat.
For two minutes, we just shared the creek. He trusted that I wouldn’t hurt him, and I trusted that he wouldn’t trample me. It wasn’t magic, and we weren’t best friends. We were just two neighbors sharing a drink of water on the same planet.
When he finished, he lifted his head, shook his antlers, and melted back into the deep woods.
I finally let out my breath and smiled, my hands shaking a little bit from the adrenaline.
We don’t own the valley, and we don’t rule it. We just share the address. And honestly? That’s how it was meant to be all along, humans and animals living in peaceful harmony.
Out here, peace isn’t a rule, it’s the only way to survive.
Third: Oliver Blogg, Age 16 - The Cotswold School
Gill's Comments
This is fantastic thought-provoking piece of writing. It carries urgency from the first sentence to the last. ‘The world feels different in 2026’.It encapsulates the anxiety of anthropogenic climate change – especially with the super El Nino, heat waves and forest fires we have experienced this year. The trees and landscapes feel sentient. It has frustration and despair but also the green shoots of hope. It is asking a question of us, saying this is not the final chapter – but the ending is in our hands.
Gill McLay added: I love the fantasy aspect and style. It make the reality of nature feel very dystopian and it’s clever. Great writing too - challenging without being too scary!
The Moment Before the Turning
The world feels different in 2026. The air carries a heavy, static tension, like the breathless pause before a summer storm breaks or the split-second a falcon hovers before a dive. If you stand still enough in the quiet places left to us, you can feel it. Rivers run heavier, swollen with unpredictable rains, carving new scars into ancient clay. Forests breathe faster, their vast canopy lungs working overtime against a shifting atmosphere. The land itself no longer feels like a silent, passive stage beneath our feet; it seems alive, restless, asking us a question that echoes through the valleys: What will you do now?
I walked through meadows that once felt eternal, places where the heather and sweet vernal grass used to thrive in predictable rhythms. Now, I watch the stalks bow under a sun that burns too long and too fiercely into the autumn months. I see old oaks standing like weary guardians on the edge of the woodland, their parched leaves whispering warnings and encouragement in the identical, rustling breath. They have survived centuries, but the ground beneath their deep roots is cracking. They are waiting to see if we are listening.
But as I walk farther, past the edges of the heat-stressed fields, I also see something else – a quiet, stubborn revolution. People are rising like green shoots pushing through the charred, blackened crust of a wildfire. The damage is undeniable, but so is the response.
In the valleys, I watch young people knee-deep in dark, squelching mud, patiently rebuilding lost habitats. They are restoring ancient wetlands, inviting the dragonflies and sphagnum moss back to lands that were drained and forgotten. They plant hope one slender sapling at a time, their hands stained with the rich earth. Nearby, local communities are weaving vibrant green corridors directly through harsh concrete landscapes, transforming grey urban alleys into bustling highways for bees, birds, and wildflowers.
This is not the final chapter of nature’s tale. It is the pivotal turning point where we choose to stop being passive observers of the wreckage and finally become its fierce protectors. When the generation that follows us looks back at this fragile, pivotal decade, I want history to record that we answered. I want to say that we met the storm not with paralyzing fear, but with an unstoppable, fierce love for this wild, beautiful planet.