An Open Invitation to Nature

On any given day in Los Angeles, you’ll find people moving through the Arroyo Seco—running trails, wandering beneath oaks, pausing to take in a stretch of sky that somehow still feels wild inside the city. It’s the kind of place that invites attention. The kind of place where, if you slow down long enough, you start to notice what’s been there all along.

For William Vasquez, it’s more than just a trail. It’s where he learned to pay attention.

Growing up just a few miles away, he would come here as a teenager to wander, to explore, to pick up trash when he noticed it. Years later, not much has changed.

“Everywhere in nature for me is special,” he says. “You’ve got to make sure it’s staying clean, and you’re enjoying it, and getting to know your neighbors.”

By neighbors, he doesn’t mean people. He means the plants. The wildlife. The ecosystems that most of us move through without ever really seeing.

That perspective, simple, but deeply held, sits at the center of We Explore Earth, the nonprofit William founded nearly a decade ago. What began as a loose idea has grown into something far more expansive: a volunteer-run network offering more than 20 free nature-based events in several cities every month. From group hikes and conservation projects to sound baths, plant walks, and full moon observations, it’s about access at its core. 

“Nature should be free,” Vasquez says plainly. “Experiences in nature should be free. There shouldn’t be any barriers.”

Planted a Seed

Before We Explore Earth, Vasquez was working in a different kind of world entirely.

He came up in the music and film industries—producing festivals, organizing events, working behind the scenes to bring people together at scale. The work was fast-paced, creative, and collaborative. But over time, something started to shift.

“I used to love bringing people together for events,” he says. “But I was always intentional. I always loved nature. I always loved volunteering, doing cleanups.”

That instinct—community-building with purpose—had been there long before the industry. Growing up, he’d organize house parties that doubled as fundraisers, taking the proceeds to support small communities in Mexico. In the punk scene, where he spent much of his youth, he saw firsthand how people gravitated toward spaces that felt open, self-organized, and free from hierarchy.

“Everyone was always looking for community,” he says. “No matter where I was—music, film, anywhere—people wanted that.”

At the same time, he noticed something else: nature felt distant from the communities he grew up in. There were few clear entry points. Few invitations. Few reflections of people who looked like him.

“I never really got exposed to nature growing up,” he says. “A lot of these big brands never reached out to the communities I was part of.”

Those two gaps—community, and access to the natural world—began to overlap in his mind. Eventually, they became inseparable.

In 2016, he stepped away from the music industry entirely.

“I planted a seed,” he says. “And I called it We Explore Earth.”

A Shared Legacy

From the beginning, We Explore Earth wasn’t designed as a business. It wasn’t even designed as something that belonged to one person. It was meant to be shared.

“I made it a nonprofit because I wanted to disassociate from it being mine,” Vasquez says. “When you donate something to the public, it belongs to the public.”

That philosophy shaped everything that followed. Instead of paid programming, the organization runs entirely on volunteers. Instead of exclusive events, everything is open. Instead of optimizing for profit, the focus is on participation—getting people outside, together, and engaged with the land.

“It’s been watered by community members,” he says. “By volunteers. By people who show up. It belongs to all of us.”

Today, that collective effort has scaled into something substantial. There are more than 45 active volunteers. Chapters have emerged in cities beyond Los Angeles. The programming spans everything from conservation work to wellness practices, often blending the two.

On one weekend, you might find a group removing invasive species from a hillside. On another, gathering under a full moon for music, movement, and reflection. There’s no single entry point. And that’s the point.

“We’re building stewards and explorers of the land through creative nature experiences,” Vasquez says.

Community as Care

Spend time around We Explore Earth, and one thing becomes clear quickly: this isn’t just about outdoor recreation. It’s about care. Mental health comes up often in conversation. Not as a buzzword, but as something lived and shared.

“We’ve had hundreds of people tell us these experiences have changed their lives,” Vasquez says. “That they found purpose. That they met their partner. That it helped them through something.”

For him, that impact is personal. “It’s helped me out mentally too,” he says.

Part of that comes from the structure itself. There’s no pressure to perform. No expectation of expertise. People show up at their own pace, whether that’s a first-time hiker or someone who’s been in the outdoors for years.

“Showing up slow is always better than not showing up at all,” he says. But there’s also something deeper at play: a sense of belonging. One phrase comes up repeatedly within the community. “Your tribe loves you.”

It’s a simple idea, but it resonates. Especially in a city as vast and fragmented as Los Angeles, where connection can feel fleeting.

“We refer to everyone as our tribe,” Vasquez says. “People who are waking up, building community, protecting nature, and taking care of their mental health.”

Protecting What Matters

That sense of community was tested and strengthened during the wildfires in Los Angeles last January 2025. From trails they had walked dozens of times, the smoke was visible on the horizon before most of the city had fully registered what was happening. For Vasquez, there was no pause between watching and moving.

"I was out there helping fight fires with firefighters," he says. "Helping evacuate animals, doing whatever I could."

Within hours, the We Explore Earth network mobilized. Volunteers who had spent weekends removing invasive species and leading plant walks were now clearing brush, supporting evacuation efforts, and showing up wherever they were needed. The same infrastructure that had been built for gathering people in nature was now being used to protect it.

The experience was consuming. But somewhere inside the urgency, something clarified.

"When nature needs us, we're ready," Vasquez says.

For a community built around understanding the land, the fires were not just a disaster. They were a reckoning.

"Through destruction, there's beauty," Vasquez says. "Nature knows how to bounce back."

In the aftermath, something shifted in the broader ecosystem of organizations working on the land. Connections deepened. New partnerships formed between volunteers, nonprofits, and local agencies. What had once been a grassroots community effort was now recognized as something essential—a network of people who didn't need to be called. They just showed up.

"There's more interconnectedness now," he says. "More people ready to give back."

Learning the Land

Part of that responsibility—showing up for the land—starts with understanding it.

That means recognizing history. Acknowledging who came before. Paying attention to the systems that existed long before modern infrastructure. Growing up, Vasquez noticed a gap in that knowledge.

“I went to a high school named after the Tongva people,” he says. “And we never learned about them.” That absence stuck with him. Today, it’s something he actively works to correct through conversations, workshops, and everyday interactions.

“I’m always asking people—do you know who was here before us?” he says. The answer, more often than not, is no. But the goal isn’t to lecture. It’s to invite curiosity. “If you understand the origins of where you are,” he says, “you can move through it more respectfully.”

The Seed, Still Growing

Nearly ten years in, We Explore Earth is still evolving.

There are plans for expansion—new chapters across California and in NYC, new partnerships, new formats for gathering. A mobile app is in development. International interest is growing.

But the core remains unchanged. “We just want to get people outside,” Vasquez says. “Have fun. Build community. Give back to nature.”

It’s simple. Almost deceptively so. And maybe that’s why it works. Because in a world that often complicates connection—packages it, monetizes it, gates it—We Explore Earth offers something different. An open invitation. To step outside. To slow down. To pay attention.

And, maybe, to start seeing the world, and each other, a little differently.