As I consider the time spent in the exploration of playgrounds—both in urban and rural contexts—the most compelling of these spaces are those that have drawn directly from nature. It’s these biophilic playgrounds that transform the typical swings and slides into a sensory experience truly reflective of the natural world. In an era where even a forest might feel like an immersion into tech (think virtual reality headsets), biophilic design feels especially important. And as someone who covers playgrounds for a living (and in somewhat of a sidebar, covers trees for the National Park Service), I couldn’t help but be drawn to the National Building Museum’s recent “The Shape of the Woods” exhibit, housed next to the museum’s iconic grand hall.
The joy of seeing children scale tree-inspired structures or run through a maze evocative of the forest confirms just how deeply profound the playgrounds of the future that might be can actually be.
Designing playgrounds based on biophilic principles doesn’t just mean adding plants to the spaces. Nor does it mean placing natural materials in the region. Done well, it can and should result in environments where children can play freely in the way they were meant to and in a way that might mimic our distant ancestors playing in the wild.
Playgrounds designed in this way are also a sort of natural science experiment, yielding information on the conditions under which children play and the level of engagement they achieve.
For instance, consider a recent visit I made to a playground that used large boulders and tree trunks instead of the usual metal and plastic play equipment. The children climbed, explored, and balanced on the rocks as if they were true mountaineers, their imaginations taking them to places that I, as an adult, don’t often reach. In one moment, they were scaling a mountain; the next moment, they were adventurers in an enchanted forest. That sense of discovery resonates with kids—and, I would argue, with adults, too. I remember watching the kid-cast at this bouldery playground and thinking: now this is what a playground should be.
One especially stunning illustration was a park I found that included a water feature meant to imitate a natural stream, replete with pebbles, logs, and native plants. Kids were interacting with this play space in ways that went beyond the kind of corporeal, repetitive movements you typically see on playgrounds (and that you also see, to an extent, in nature). They were interacting with the materials and the water in ways that suggested creative problem-solving: some were constructing small dams, others playful making use of water’s lack of permanence, and a few just delighting in the experience of the water on their feet.
Biophilic playgrounds do not only offer an aesthetic experience; they stimulate all the senses. A biophilic playground offers children even more ways to sense and interact with their environment than a traditional playground. Native plants, trees, and topographical features create a space where children can experience a diversity of sounds, smells, and textures, not just during their visit but throughout the year. A living landscape that incorporates seasonal change is one of the basic tenets of the next-generation playground design known as biophilic design. Playgrounds can be truer to form and function by incorporating the same features present in some of the world’s most successful biophilic spaces.
Picture an evolving experience for a playground based on the season. Spring and fall could have an equal influence on the design, offering aspects of nature that could engage children with the artwork. Both seasons could allow the use of many colors in the space, with elements emphasizing different hues. In summer, children might enjoy the shade that sits under the trees, while in winter, they could experience the frost on a structure. No matter the element used to represent a season, children could connect more with nature through the pathway that encompasses each of the four seasons.
Biophilic playgrounds are riveting because they can function as micro-ecosystems and draw all kinds of wildlife into urban or suburban areas. I’ve always thought that wildlife is a key part of kids’ early experiences—that the kinds of wonder in which we adults sometimes indulge should be available to our children. And doing biophilic design that brings animals, birds, and insects into spaces for human-centered play is thrilling to think about. After all, play is about discovery, and these spaces should be filled with things that go bump in the night—and in the daytime too, since some nocturnal bugs just can’t resist a good bioluminescent twin.
In a certain playground I worked on, we built a collection of birdhouses and a range of native plants that are designed to attract pollinators. It’s been delightful to see that the space where we did this has become the local hot spot for bees, butterflies, and, occasionally, hummingbirds. But what really took me by surprise was how excited the children seemed to be about these … shall we say … avian neighbors. I was not expecting this to be a feature of the design, and I certainly let their enthusiasm guide me when I started talking about the spaces where these little critters make their homes.
Another wonderful case in point is a play area with a pond that drew frogs and ducks—if not an alligator or two. The water was shallow and safe, enabling children to see—gosh, it would have been a long time ago since I first saw it—early spring mornings surely must have a magical quality for the observant child, with so much going on, seemingly everywhere, in the pond. This is a place where life happens, where kids can get right up to the action without any worries of respect for the animals involved.
Biophilic playgrounds offer something really special when it comes to teaching kids about sustainability. They even have the potential to be what some in the education field have called “living classrooms.” Kids can learn first-hand about ecosystems, the water cycle, and plant life—even the importance of using sustainable materials—just by playing. And few spaces are better for this kind of “natural” learning than playgrounds. They’re outside. They’re interactive. And they engage children in a multitude of different ways, making them perfect for biophilia.
I visited a playground a while ago that had an awesome rain garden—one of my new favorite features of public parks. Kids can learn about how rain is collected, filtered, and returned to the surrounding environment. The play area is actually a part of the park’s storm water management system! This is the kind of subtle, effective environmental education that comes from architects and landscape designers working in public service; it’s as good as a tiny TED Talk for the next generation.
Of course, as with any play environment, it’s also super-important that the space be constructed with truly sustainable materials. At least part of the reason for that (as if it needs much justification) is that it allows the kids using the space to have an experience that’s more than just a thick, soulless “eco” surface.
Biophilic playgrounds still face challenges and must attend to basic design criteria. Safety is, without question, the top concern for biophilic playgrounds. Nearly every natural play project I’ve worked on has been met with initial skepticism from parents and city officials because of safety worries. My response has been to show them that it can be done safely by using appropriate materials and natural features that don’t pose a hazard to children. … Furthermore, playground floor systems that can take up to a 10-foot drop without a child sustaining an injury do exist. They are, however, both cost prohibitive and not as fun as wood chips, sand, or other natural ground cover systems.
So, what do we do? Building a natural playscape that is safe for children is our design challenge and my personal design imperative.
Another concern that often arises in discussions about biophilic playgrounds is the upkeep required for them. My understanding is that the natural materials and living landscapes of these playgrounds need more maintenance—much more, I suspect, than the plastic play structures and rubberized surfaces we are accustomed to. Still, I believe biophilic design is the future of playgrounds. I liked how maintaining a natural playground could be a way to community engagement; indeed, some communities with biophilic playgrounds have trained local volunteers to be “nature stewards.” These folks do the kind of work that keeps a community space like a playground thriving.
That part of the day job is kind of heart-warming.
I’ve had discussions with other designers about the possibilities of integrating technology into biophilic playgrounds—not to put digital screens into nature, but to use technology to enhance natural experiences. Take, for example, the prospects for using solar power and sensors to create bioluminescent effects in a twilight playground. Or using sensors to trigger nature sounds in areas of a playground where kids are especially rowdy—so that they hear the sounds of nature over their own ruckus. What I’m getting at is that tech and nature don’t have to be oppositional. In fact, they could play really well together.
Another instance of playing well with high-tech is using edible landscapes, which I think of as a huge new trend.
Inclusivity is enormously important if playgrounds are to achieve the lofty goals set for inclusive biophilic design. Although I am only one person, and my experiences represent only a fraction of what could be said on this topic, I will share my thoughts, based on projects in which I have participated. My diverse team at the Natural Learning Initiative has worked with the design and construction of several biophilic playgrounds. We believe that biophilic playgrounds should be designed to be inclusive and accessible to children of all abilities. With all due respect to the accessibility standard of the 2010 ADA, in our opinion, access to nature must be built into the very concept of playground design.
In other words, the play must be inclusive; the environments must be usable by children of varying abilities; and the experiences in both the playscapes and the biophilic environments must be transformative for all children.
Biophilic playgrounds are inclusive by design. They are the means through which society can make playgrounds spaces of socialization. They allow for the development of empathy and for the learning of cooperation between children. In biophilic playgrounds, children learn that nature is a shared world. They also learn to play in a way that truly embodies the values of nature.
Biophilic design in playgrounds promotes all of this. And here’s the core part: for biophilic playgrounds to thrive, it is a designer’s responsibility to work alongside the community and local government to bring nature to the playground. It is also our responsibility to ensure that nature—that shared world—exists within an inclusive space.
The most fulfilling part of biophilic design is what happens when a community takes ownership of its vision for a space. I’ve been in innumerable planning meetings where community members—parents, teachers, and even the children themselves—have provided the sorts of input that make for a truly participatory process. And let me tell you, oftentimes it’s the children who have the most inventive ideas: a “garden of secrets” where they can sneak away for some unstructured time, or hidden tunnels under the trees. Of course, children are going to provide the boundless ideas, and it’s our job to make them happen.
I also think that developers and local governments have to appreciate the long-term value that biophilic playgrounds can bring to communities. They are not just niceties or even just necessities; they are vital components of community infrastructure that should be placed right in the middle of any public-minded community planning. So please, no more little Olmsteds!
Concluding Reflections
I am hopeful that as we progress, the biophilic playground will become the new normal in both our urban and suburban worlds. I keep coming back to this need for children to connect with nature because it’s not a simple want; it’s of utmost importance and even a necessity. Playgrounds that model different aspects of nature are a way for children to not just play but also to learn. And a way to understand nature is by recognizing its many forms, whether they are abstract interpretations of the habitats that make up our natural world, like the much-discussed and criticized Crissy Field East and Bay Camp at the Exploratorium in San Francisco.
The foundations of this movement are already visible. I have been hearing from community members and city planners eager to implement the principles of biophilia into their playgrounds. These design champions understand that playgrounds offer more than just fun. They are about establishing a connection to the natural world that could endure a lifetime. As someone who has had the privilege of not only designing but also experiencing these spaces, I can say without reservation that the future is bright. We can create playgrounds that inspire and nurture, but most importantly, playgrounds that reconnect us with the natural world—something worth fighting for.
Designing Biophilic Playgrounds That Evolve With Communities
The biophilic playgrounds closely align with the biological growth of children. They grow from saplings to sturdy small trees, then to the large tree-like structures of the biophilic playground. While the kids might be playing—that’s how you find the best place for a tree house—my guess is that they’ll feel the same thrill of swinging their arms like a vine or climbing a pole as tightly as a caterpillar does when they’re adults. They’ll recall with the same sense of wonder the feeling of nature-defying gravity under a biophilic playground’s canopy, and they’ll wonder if the trees’ tall wooden structures will shade their children in this space someday.
In a particular community project I was part of, we made a purposeful decision to leave several spots on the playground kind of “flat,” with little to no actual play features. Those areas were meant to serve as something of a canvas for the imagination—a space for the community to evolve over time. Five years out from the initial construction, what the community has put in place is now a kind of scaled-up edible garden. Yes, the kids still have access to sand in that main design feature and lots of tools for digging, but they’ve also got a kind of real-world science lab that grows right alongside their bodies: a place where they’re invited to touch, taste, and get a little dirt under their fingernails.
Biophilia—that’s the way to remember it.
Payoffs That Last: What Kids Get from Play That Counts into Their Grown-Up Years
It is becoming increasingly evident that biophilic playgrounds benefit more than just kids. Most of the same reasons that make these spaces work for children—that they enable engagement with nature, are rich in sensory stimulation, and provide opportunities for unstructured play—apply just as well to adults. In fact, many of the playgrounds I’ve visited over the years have evolved into gathering places for not just little ones but their families, too. After all, who wouldn’t want a reason to return to a playground, where the tranquility of a natural environment can easily soothe a frayed adult nervous system?
Biophilic playgrounds are intergenerational. They are meant for people of all ages and, in my experience, they are close to being universally appealing. I remember a project where I was involved as a designer. The path we included there is reminiscent of something you would encounter in a tranquil botanical garden; its number of turns seems designed to draw out the journey across the roughly 200 feet from one end to the other. At least two children have told me that they enjoy this particular path more than any other in the nearby area. I don’t think I can convey enough how much I love that fact.
I love that biophilic playgrounds are popular with children.
Keeping the Talk Going
With the push for biophilic playgrounds continues, it becomes more and more necessary to share within the design community not just successes but also ideas and, especially, challenges. We learn from each other, and few in the biophilic movement have direct experience with even two playgrounds that are alike. The projects we each work on, and the lessons they yield, are fundamentally different. The most successful designs seem to emerge from a willingness to experiment and listen, a community-centered ethos that also adapts when necessary: sometimes rethinking materials, sometimes adjusting layouts, and sometimes reconsidering the role of nature in play itself.
But the payoffs are enormous. Every time I see a child racing through a natural play space, their wonder and curiosity unmistakable, I’m struck once more by the importance of this work. These nature-integrated play spaces can and do shape not just individual experiences but also our collective cultural moment. Increasingly, I’m pinning hope on the idea that these playgrounds can change not just the way children [and] their families engage with the outdoors but also the way communities define that experience. And can define it in a new, nature-centered way.
Playgrounds of the Future: An Invitation to Rediscover Nature
As our cities expand and technology continues to infiltrate our daily lives, the importance of spaces that reconnect us with nature has never been clearer. And nowhere is this more compelling than in the design of playgrounds. Most of us envision bright plastic structures when we think about playscapes. But biophilic playscapes break from this mold. They introduce elements like trees, rocks, water, and earth into Ohio playgrounds, creating environments where children can explore and interact with the natural world in ways that are far more profound and meaningful. These spaces beckon children to discover and play in ways that build and reinforce their connection to nature.
Playscapes of the future may just as easily serve as a vital opportunity for families, communities, and even cities to rethink how we engage with the natural world.
