Over the past few years, I’ve been following some remarkable building projects around the world that integrate natural elements in ways I never imagined possible. After spending decades thinking about how to make my own house work better for aging in place – bringing in more natural light, creating accessible garden spaces, figuring out what actually improves wellbeing – I became curious about what larger institutions and developers were learning.
I’ve been documenting what I find because there are practical lessons here, even for those of us working on smaller scales with tighter budgets.
Take the PARKROYAL hotel in Singapore. When I first saw photos of this building, I thought it was some kind of computer rendering. A hotel with cascading gardens that actually serve functional purposes? But the more I read about it, the more sense it made from an engineering perspective.
The terraced design mimics natural slopes, which means rainwater gets filtered naturally through the gardens before it hits the drainage system. The plants provide cooling through evapotranspiration, reducing the building’s air conditioning load. And the root systems help manage stormwater runoff – basically turning the building into part of the natural water cycle instead of fighting against it.
The Bosco Verticale towers in Milan work on similar principles, but they went even further. Two residential towers with over 900 trees and 20,000 plants integrated into the facade. I’ve read interviews with residents who talk about their energy bills dropping significantly because the plants provide natural insulation and cooling.
What fascinates me as someone who’s watched design trends come and go is how these buildings respond to seasonal changes. The deciduous trees lose their leaves in winter, allowing more sunlight into apartments when people need it most. Spring brings new growth that provides shade during warmer months. It’s like having a building that automatically adjusts itself.
The Amazon Spheres in Seattle represent a different approach – three glass domes filled with plants from cloud forest environments, serving as workspace for employees. I was initially skeptical about this one. Seemed like an expensive gimmick.
But I’ve read research on the results, and they’re measuring real improvements in focus and creativity among workers who spend time in the spheres. The controlled temperature and humidity, the sound of water features, the immersive plant environment – it apparently triggers stress reduction responses similar to what you’d get from actual time in nature.
Of course, most of us aren’t working with Amazon’s budget. But I’ve also been following smaller-scale projects that use similar principles.
There’s an elementary school in Portland that redesigned their cafeteria with almost no money. They painted walls with chalkboard paint for kids to draw nature scenes, created living walls from repurposed plastic bottles, added reading areas with natural materials like logs and rough fabrics. The principal reported a 40% reduction in disciplinary problems during lunch periods after the changes.
This makes complete sense to me. Kids need to touch different textures, see growing things, have some connection to natural patterns. The institutional approach of hard surfaces and artificial everything fights against basic human needs.
One project that particularly interests me is the network of Maggie’s Centres in the UK – cancer care facilities designed specifically to counter the depressing institutional feel of most medical environments. Each location incorporates courtyards accessible from treatment rooms, natural materials like wood and stone, abundant daylight, garden views from patient areas.
I’ve read studies showing reduced anxiety levels and decreased pain medication requests at these facilities compared to conventional medical buildings. Patients spend more time in common areas, building support networks. Staff report less burnout.
This resonates with what I learned when modifying our house after my wife’s stroke. Environment affects healing in measurable ways. Having plants to tend in her accessible garden beds genuinely improved her mood and pain levels. Being able to see birds and seasonal changes from her chair made a difference in her daily experience.
What gives me hope is seeing these principles applied to affordable housing. There’s a low-income development in Denver that incorporated community gardens, optimized natural light, and created shared green spaces on a tight budget. They used salvaged wood, designed play areas with natural materials, created courtyards that capture rainwater for irrigation.
The results include increased community connection, kids playing outside more, adults reporting better sleep. Property managers say maintenance requests decreased because residents take better care of their surroundings. When people feel connected to their environment, they naturally become more invested in maintaining it.
I see this pattern in various projects – from New York’s High Line converting abandoned railway into public greenspace, to office buildings where employees help maintain living walls. The most successful projects create opportunities for ongoing human interaction with natural elements, not just passive viewing.
What’s changed is our understanding of why this works. Research shows exposure to natural elements reduces stress hormones, lowers blood pressure, improves cognitive function. We’re not talking about vague feelings – we’re measuring physiological changes that affect health outcomes.
The challenge now isn’t proving these approaches work. It’s making them accessible to regular people and institutions working with normal budgets. Every week I get questions from teachers, healthcare workers, and homeowners asking how to apply these principles with limited resources.
That’s why I keep tracking these projects – not just the million-dollar installations, but the creative low-cost interventions that demonstrate the same principles. Whether it’s a vertical forest in Milan or herbs growing in classroom windowsills, these spaces acknowledge something we’ve somehow forgotten in our rush to seal everything up and control every variable: we evolved in natural environments, and our bodies and minds still respond to natural patterns and materials.
The best buildings and spaces remember this. They work with human nature instead of against it.
Robert is a retired engineer in Michigan who’s spent the past few years adapting his longtime home for accessibility and wellbeing. He writes about practical, DIY ways to make homes more comfortable and life-affirming as we age — from raised-bed gardens to better natural light.
