Some people move through the outdoors with the ease of someone who truly belongs there, not someone pretending to belong for a camera. They seem almost constitutionally suited to the outdoors. Among them is Iolo Williams. The Welsh broadcaster and ornithologist has been stalking hillsides, watching red kites through binoculars, and narrating the more subdued dramas of the British countryside with a warmth that television rarely produces for over twenty years. This may be the reason why his body’s most dramatic moment occurred exactly where you might expect it to: by himself, in the middle of a run, somewhere in the Welsh hills, with no phone and no assistance in sight.
Williams had a heart attack in April 2023 while jogging six miles in a completely normal manner. For fifteen years, he had run twice a week. Beneath his sternum, there was a sudden, intense pain that left no doubt as to what it was. He knew right away. And as usual, he responded by continuing to move. With his car a mile and a half away and no phone, he had no choice but to walk in the direction of assistance while enduring the kind of agony that most people would find difficult to bear. Now and then, as the pain intensified, he crouched. then continued. He was informed that there would be a ninety-minute wait when he eventually arrived at the car and called for an ambulance. Instead, he was driven to the hospital by his wife, Ceri. As he has stated numerous times since, the NHS was excellent.
The next step was a stent procedure, which is a significant undertaking in and of itself, to restore blood flow to the heart. However, the challenges didn’t stop there. The clot that was released by the stent passed through his body for about six weeks before lodging in the medulla oblongata, a blood vessel at the base of his brain, resulting in an embolism. Williams’ right side was momentarily immobilized. It took four or five days for speech to fully return. Each step of the medical sequence followed the previous one with grim efficiency, despite the fact that it sounds almost unreal when written down in a list. That year, he was completely absent from Springwatch. Posting from his hospital bed with his usual lightheartedness, he noted that reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated and expressed sincere gratitude to the NHS.
He was working on a new production in Port Talbot when the second medical emergency happened separately. He was sitting in a car, ready to get in and start filming, when all of a sudden he realized he couldn’t buckle up. He was unable to comprehend why. He was unable to speak. They moved swiftly, and the hospital was ten minutes away. He was unaware at the time that the clot had been circulating for weeks and had now become lodged in a vessel that was connected to the left side of his brain, which is responsible for controlling the right side of his body. He was immobilized. Then, in a matter of hours, he was able to use his arm and leg again. Even though Williams describes it with a matter-of-factness that feels truly earned rather than affected, it’s still something of a quiet miracle.
Seeing him again on screen for Springwatch 2025 gives me the impression that his experiences have made him more certain rather than more cautious. Williams seems to believe that the natural world and the people he lives with are the most important things in life. He has stated that if he were to pass away while observing a white-tailed eagle or demonstrating red kites to someone in North Wales, it wouldn’t be a bad idea, with the kind of composure that only comes from having truly considered the matter. On paper, that might sound reckless. It reads more like clarity in context.
When Williams returned to Winterwatch in January 2024, the cameras continued where they had left off, showing the same animated explanations and evident delight at the shallow lagoons of Arne filling with wildfowl and wintering waders. Against all odds, his body had returned him to the exact place he desired. There might not be a better place to be for a man who worked for the RSPB for fourteen years before establishing one of the most recognizable careers in British natural history broadcasting. The hills of Wales still exist. The red kites are still in the air. And Iolo Williams is, at least for the time being.