From the age of 6 I spent every holiday possible down on the South Coast of Devon. These trips were such a regular occurrence that Devon now feels like home! The coast was an important part of my childhood. Going to the beach was always at the top of our long list of ideas of things to do while we were away.

A morning ritual before a seaside trip was selecting a beach towel from my grandparents’ airing cupboard, the most crucial item, along with a swimming costume, which we all put on under our clothes in preparation for the day’s watery adventures. The car was full to burst with picnic blankets, a selection of sandwiches and all the cousins. We were ready for the road by mid-morning, however not always as early as my Grandad would have liked!

The sea was our playground. The waves rolling in and foaming on the sand seemed to be the most thrilling element. We ran away from the waves, shrieking at the top of our lungs. We fell in a heap on the sand in our hurry to be the furthest away from the fast approaching water.

In an attempt to take a dip, I would edge myself into the water, with the sand between my toes. The ice cold water lapped at my ankles. My brother and cousin whizzed past me, flailing their legs and arms, splashing tiny beads of water, making me catch my breath.

Once in the water I looked down at the dark shadows, holding my feet high for fear of sharks (or so we told ourselves!) taking a nibble on my toes. We called to the shore to our grandparents to take a dip with us. You’re never too old to be a dare-devil!

As we got older the challenges became greater. We rushed into the sea, racing each other to fully submerge our bodies. This swift assault made the cold water seem more bearable.

My uncle, brother and I set the challenge of swimming out to the platform. Our strong hard strokes did not seem to make our goal any closer. We pulled ourselves on to the platform to catch our breath and take in the view of the shore. The rest of the family looked like tiny dots in the distance. All the hard work was rewarded on the beach with a hot chocolate while wrapped in a big beach towel.

The sand found its way into every nook and cranny, wrapped in the towels and between our toes. On our return home the sand was trailed up the stairs and into the bathroom where the last few remaining grains which had survived the journey were hosed off in the shower.

After a long but enjoyable day at the beach, resting my tired eyes, I could feel the stray pieces of sand in my duvet and could smell the sea salt on my skin. I got some rest, before the calls of the seagulls would wake me up bright and early ready to start again.

Richard Taylor Jones, a wildlife cameraman, who filmed a wild winter walk for Winterwatch, reflects on one of his favourite places from the White Cliffs of Dover to Pegwell Bay.

It’s very easy to want to simply stay indoors during the winter months, to keep the cold as far as away as possible. But if you do, I think you’re missing out. When it comes to the wild there is plenty to enjoy even in the depths of winter. The stretch of coast running from the White Cliffs of Dover to Pegwell Bay is certainly one of my favourite places to spend some time.

A walk starting above the White Cliffs National Trust visitor centre will see some very friendly characters greeting you, Exmoor Ponies, the resident on-site conservation workers. This semi-wild herd does the important job of grazing the chalk grassland and keeping it in good nick for the flowering plants that burst out in spring and summer.

They’re not scared to come and give you a good sniff, in the hope of a treat or two. They’ll be close enough to snap some pictures with your mobile phone, but you’re best off not feeding them and letting them get on the with the job of chewing the grass. A hungry pony who thinks you have food may just decide to chew you, in a friendly manner of course, but you won’t appreciate it.

Further along the cliffs in Fan Bay, dark green bushes with bright lemon yellow clumps can be seen spread across the landscape. This is gorse. Its dazzling flower makes even the greyest of days seem bright. It’s one of those rare plants that flowers in every month of the year, hoping for a rare warm winter day when an insect might emerge to pollinate it. It’s a risky strategy to put energy into flowering in the winter, but one that must pay off for this showy plant, one of nature’s chancers.

There will be many crows and jackdaws soaring along cliffs as you might expect, but as you’re walking along towards South Foreland keep your eyes and ears out for a much bigger black bird, the Raven. They start their mating display as early as December and you can see them barrel rolling in spectacular style along the cliff edges, their “cronking” call echoing as they go.

It’s a simple equation, the longer you walk, the more you will see. And if you make it all the way to Pegwell Bay you’ll have a list as long as your arm, as well as sore feet! But even if all you get is a short stroll out in the cold, I’ll bet the wild windswept coastline will have invigorated you, made you feel that little bit vulnerable and in doing so re-connected you with nature. So don’t stay in, get out!

It’s a year since Project Wild Thing premiered in cinemas nationwide.

Since then the film has screened in 120 cinemas in the UK, at more than 600 schools, community spaces, National Trust places, on a ship and even from the top of mountains!

Audiences in the UK, Australia, Europe, Japan, the US and Canada have been treated to this heart-warming, though provoking film which follows film-maker David Bond in his efforts to encourage his children to spend more time outdoors in nature.

The film has been picking up plaudits around the globe and just this week Project Wild Thing won one of the most prestigious awards in educational film-making; the Grand Prix Japan Prize.

Lorraine O’Donovan of Green Lions collects the Japan Prize. (c) Green Lions

The prize is awarded for the most outstanding piece of media work that excels in its ability to educate, in its relevance to the times and its contribution to educational media.

We’re a proud supporter of Project Wild Thing and the Wild Network, the movement of thousands that has grown up around the film. Project Wild Thing has been shown at dozens of National Trust places – including the summit of Scafell Pike, the highest point in England.

A group of intrepid explorers battle the elements to climb to the peak of Scafell Pike to enjoy Project Wild Thing. (c) Stewart Smith

Joanne Rawson, Volunteering and Community Involvement Manager at Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire, has organised screenings of Project Wild Thing for families of the Hardwick Wildlife Watch group, to staff and volunteers and partner organisations.

“What I love about Project Wild Thing is that it’s brought people together and been a catalyst for change”, Joanne says. “It doesn’t matter who you work for, where you live, or how much you earn; ultimately, we’re working towards the same goal: to connect kids with nature.

“On watching the film, the young members of our Wildlife Watch group were shocked that some children don’t have the same opportunities to connect with the outdoors as they do. It helped them see how having those outdoors experiences had benefited them in their lives.

“Staff here have said watching Project Wild Thing made them think about what they do with their own kids and grandchildren, which in itself is a great result.”

To get involved visit http://projectwildthing.com/. Tweet your birthday wishes to @wearewildthing or tag them #wildtime.

It’s not just children who need play, argues Fiona Harrower, Visitor Experience Manager at Hatfield Forest.

Virtually all of my favourite childhood memories involve playing outdoors.  Even now, when I’m meant to be grown-up, I still can’t resist a puddle or balancing along a fallen tree.

Den building at Hatfield. © Fiona Harrower

For the last couple of years we have celebrated the national Play Day at Hatfield Forest with one goal: to encourage play with no play equipment.  With a thousand acres of woodland and grassy plains to explore this should have been a realistic challenge.

Or at least you would have thought so.

But I’ve noticed that many of our visiting parents are desperate for a trail to follow, a map to highlight where to play, actual trees and logs signposted as okay to play on.  Whereas their children, when allowed to just play freely, are quite happy to find their own spots, make their own games and use their imagination.

So our role is to teach the parents how to play in the outdoors, as the kids are experts at it already.  With a large number of veteran trees, we have an added challenge of balancing the promotion of natural play with the conservation of Hatfield Forest.

The 50 things to do before you’re 11 3/4 campaign has helped us to promote our no need for play equipment message, by giving us a tool to spark families’ imagination.  The scrapbooks, and even more so the stickers, are a big hit.  Our top play activities at Hatfield Forest are tree climbing, den building, making grass trumpets, exploring inside a tree and making mud pies.  We hold Wild Wednesdays throughout the summer holidays and have over 150 children participating each week.

Pie making during Mud Week! © Fiona Harrower

But play isn’t limited to Wednesdays only; it’s something we promote every day.

Play is one of the simplest ways to get kids outdoors.  The health benefits are clear.  Ask a child if they want to go on a five mile hike and you may get a moan, but spend hours running through long grass, climbing trees and building dens and they won’t notice they’re ‘exercising’.

Play is a universal way of connecting people to the outdoors.  It’s something children intrinsically know what to do.  We just need to give adults the permission to play too.