Natural Connections in Urban Spaces: Spokane, WA

It might seem like an interesting thing — I’m a founder of a nature company, yet here I am writing about urban spaces. But the truth is, for many of us, cities are part of daily life. Sometimes it’s where we live. Sometimes it’s where we travel for business or leisure.

So don’t worry — as we step into this mini blog, we’re doing it the Nature’s Playbook way.

And that simply means this: connecting with nature daily matters. We need it for our physical and mental health. Nature’s Playbook is also about offering real, authentic experiences and making them accessible through a pay-it-forward mentality — to community, and to being good stewards of the environment.

So let’s get started.

Not long ago, I visited Spokane, Washington — a city I had never been to before. Cities bring a different kind of energy. They buzz with possibility, culture, and discovery. My curiosity to explore and uncover what makes a place unique had me itching to get outside and see it for myself.

I knew absolutely nothing about Spokane. So imagine my surprise and delight when I learned the city is home to one of the largest urban waterfalls in the United States — a defining feature right in the heart of downtown. The Spokane River Falls are spectacular. Powerful, grounding, and unexpectedly wild for a city setting.

Flowing alongside them is the Spokane River Centennial Trail — a 40-mile paved path stretching from Nine Mile Falls, through downtown Spokane, and east to the Idaho border. The trail hugs the river’s edge and seamlessly connects neighborhoods, parks, and communities.

I was there in February. It was cold, with little to no snow on the ground, but the trail was alive. I could easily imagine summer bringing paddleboards, kayaks, and river play. Yet year-round, this space invites movement — walking, biking, running — and I saw people doing all three, many with their dogs happily in tow.

Within a simple two-mile loop, the landscape shifts beautifully. Powerful rapids and thundering falls give way to calm, serene stretches of water. The sound of rushing water is grounding in a way that feels almost instinctual.

Bridges cross the river at multiple points, offering sweeping views where you can feel mist rising from the falls — a sensory reminder that nature is alive and present, even here.

Whenever I encounter defining features like this, I’m naturally drawn to the history behind them.

For generations, the Spokane Tribe knew this river as Stluputqu — “swift water.” The falls were sacred and central to life, serving as a gathering place for families, friends, and neighboring tribes including the Coeur d’Alene and Colville. Here, people fished for Chinook and coho salmon — a primary food source and cultural cornerstone.

By the early 1900s, Spokane expanded alongside railroads, mining, and timber. Seeking sustainable energy for a growing city, local leaders formed the Edison Electric Illuminating Company and built dams along the Spokane River to power mills, streetcars, lighting, and industry. Eventually, the Washington Water Power Company became the region’s primary hydroelectric provider.

But progress came with loss. The construction of Little Falls Dam (1910) and Long Lake Dam (1915), followed by Grand Coulee Dam on the Columbia River in the late 1930s, blocked salmon migration upstream — ending a centuries-old food source and cultural connection.

At the same time, the character of downtown Spokane was shifting. From the 1930s through the early 1970s, the city center became a bustling and dense commercial hub dominated by heavy railroad infrastructure. Industrial warehouses, elevated tracks, and two major rail stations filled the landscape, often obscuring the Spokane River from view. Spokane was known as a “city of trains” — energetic and industrious, yet noisy, congested, and increasingly disconnected from its natural riverfront.

For decades, the river that once defined life and community flowed quietly behind industry, largely hidden from everyday experience.

Then came a pivotal turning point.

With the arrival of the 1974 World’s Fair (Expo ‘74), Spokane transformed its industrial riverfront into a public park, restoring access to the water and gifting the community a lasting legacy: Riverfront Park.

This roughly 100-acre urban oasis is layered with experiences - Spokane Falls, the iconic Gesa Pavilion hosting concerts and festivals, the historic Looff Carrousel, and the Numerica Skate Ribbon with its winding ice path and pond. Open lawns invite picnics, frisbee games, dog walks, and that beautiful moment when kids simply run wild.

It’s a reminder that urban design can bring nature and community back together.

As you wander the two-mile river loop, sculptures appear along pathways and even within the river itself — part of Spokane’s Sculpture Walk. Look here for full guide.

A few stood out to me:

The Garbage Goat, a copper and brass creation by Sister Paula Mary Turnbull — affectionately known as the “welding nun” — literally vacuums up small pieces of trash. Functional art? Yes, please.

The Centennial Sculpture by Harold Balazs offers reflection and permanence.

And The Joy of Running Together by David Govedare captures movement, inclusivity, and shared experience in such a beautiful way.

It feels like an outdoor gallery - art woven naturally into the landscape.

Like any gallery, this one offers places to sit, reflect, and linger. I found myself drawn to the amphitheater-style river steps along the north bank shoreline, directly across from the convention center.

Here, I sat with my book and a cup of coffee, sun warming my face, enjoying the fresh air and the sound of moving water.

Calm invigorating - in the very same breath.

Urban spaces don’t have to separate us from nature. Sometimes they are the bridge back to it. Spokane reminded me that even in the heart of a city, wild elements can shape identity, inspire connection, and create daily opportunities to pause, breathe, and feel grounded.

And maybe that’s the invitation:

Wherever you are — city street or mountain trail - look for the water, the trees, the history, the quiet moments. Nature is often closer than we think.

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