I’M BLESSED to live near a lake surrounded by a small stand of woods — a little slice of nature right on the back edge of our suburban neighborhood, perfect for indulging in some nature therapy.
Last updated on February 13th, 2024 at 05:33 pm
Small Waters is an occasional feature where we explore the personal side of bass fishing and the pond fishing life. ~ Editor
Rudy of the Woodlands
Despite its small footprint, our woods have a broad spectrum of flora and fauna ― greenery, berries, and flowers that help keep the deer, coyotes, possums, and armadillos happy and fed. These animals like to remain unseen, but they make their presence known in the form of paw and hoof prints; late-night squawks and howls; and blurry images caught on my neighbor’s trail cam, their wild eyes shining in the moonlight.
My dog Rudy is wary of the woods, but on our daily walks, he occasionally is drawn to them by an unidentified scent that he tracks to the very edge of the overgrowth. Sometimes we find a path worn through grass, crushed by late-night marauders. I too am drawn to the woods, but for a different reason than Rudy. Some of my fondest memories are of childhood adventures in the woods surrounding my small south Louisiana hometown.
Rudy knows nothing of this. Usually, we stop at the edge of the woods and he quickly turns his attention to some new fascination ― like a duck. But occasionally, the scent leading into the woods is just too tantalizing for him and we step past the crushed grasses. And a few steps beyond that. And then the door of a wardrobe seems to close and we’re inside a church-like, solemn place. The birds above sing a heavenly hymn as sweet incense wafts up from the woody decay below.
Back in my childhood, our band of young explorers included a bunch of real altar boys ― not the figurative goody-goody type, but the real McCoy. Our rambunctious times in the woods were no religious experience. We would never have made a connection between that feeling of wild abandon and the buttoned-up penance we served in the town’s hot, unairconditioned Catholic chapel. Not to mention the polyester pants and too-tight, hand-me-down church shoes we reluctantly endured.
In the woods, whether we were climbing a tree, tracking an elusive rabbit, or playing a rousing game of hide-and-seek, we were wild, loud, and exuberant. But in those small moments ― sitting above the treetops, carefully creeping up on that rabbit, or quietly eluding a seeker ― we found ourselves alone with our thoughts and the sounds and smells of the woods. And we experienced the calming, healing effects of our surroundings.
Nature Therapy
Nature therapy? Ecotherapy? Or the trendy forest bathing. Those words would’ve been foreign to us back then. But the result was the same. We were drawn in and our souls were soothed. We were feeling the mental and physical benefits of nature. And while science can’t exactly explain it, there is more than enough evidence to confirm it.
The general idea that being outdoors is healthy has long existed in many cultures. But the causes have remained elusive. The issue got its first modern scientific look during the 1950s by researchers with a special interest in the popularity of national parks. Shinrin-yoku, or forest bathing, originated in Japan in the early 1980s. Somewhat different from hiking, shiinrin-yoku is a slow, meditative immersion into the environment ― using all of the senses.
And interest in nature therapy and all of its forms have only grown over the decades. A 2007 study found that a walk in the country can reduce depression in seven out of 10 participants. And as little as five minutes in a natural setting, whether walking in a park or gardening in the back yard, improves mood, self-esteem, and motivation. Is it breathing in the organic compounds from the natural environment that makes the difference? Or simply the letting go of stress? The physical exercise? Or a combination of all of these ― and then some?
Some health care providers have taken this idea to heart, giving their patients “nature prescriptions” to treat such ailments as obesity, high blood pressure and diabetes. The prescriptions might come in the form of friendly encouragement to get out more or even include maps to nearby parks and trails. Experimenting with this “medicine” is a low-risk prospect, with no known negative side effects (though those susceptible to poison ivy may want to stick to the trail).
Physical benefits from my own nature walks with Rudy are hard to quantify. We’re both in our 50s (he in dog years) yet we both feel young and vibrant. We maintain a healthy weight and sleep well. We’re alert and engaged, active and playful. We have shiny coats. On the other hand/paw, the mental benefits are hard to miss. There’s a general feeling of peace when we’re interacting with nature, like all is well in the world. He wags what little tail he has. I smile for no particular reason.
Research suggests a similar effect from traveling, which can reduce stress, boost satisfaction, make you mentally tough, enhance creativity, and can help you evaluate and reinvent your life. That’s an apt comparison, considering that when I’m in the woods, I get the sense that I’ve touched down in a foreign land ― one of discovery and adventure, maybe even danger. The air tastes earthy and alive, and the filtered light casts surreal shadows.
Rudy and I are alert, and we occasionally catch glimpses of the inhabitants of the woods. A deer stopping on the trail to sample a patch of clover. A squirrel collecting pecans. A cardinal delivering a fat worm to its offspring. Peering through that window is fascinating, as we try to experience a little of what their day-to-day must be like. We are drawn into this different world and we wonder what else we might see differently if we just make the effort.
But there’s more. Spend some time in nature, and you’re sure to notice changes in yourself. Personally, I feel a huge boost in clarity and focus. It truly is like “forest bathing,” washing off worries and negative thoughts and emerging with a clear mind fully ready, even eager, to take on the next challenge. I feel like my memory is enhanced, and my work is at its highest level. Your results may vary, but you will see results. (For the full effect, lather, rinse, and repeat.)
Finding Your Happy Place
So, you’re interested, but by some cruel twist, you don’t have a national park in your neighborhood. Don’t fret. Small wooded tracts can be just as conducive to these beneficial effects as large wildlife reserves. Most towns, cities, and counties, for example, boast at least a few public-access properties where you can hike to your heart and soul’s content.
Google can be your friend in this pursuit. Occasionally, my wife and I will go online to seek out a new location for a morning hike. If you’re a fisherman ― and if you’re reading this blog you’re likely on that path ― you may find some new fishing holes along the way.
Rudy didn’t make any of those hikes with my wife and me. While long walks invigorate him, car trips terrify him. So he and I are limited to those wooded areas within walking distance. It works for us, and we enjoy the dog-dad time as we walk past the woods ― occasionally immersing ourselves in its healing presence. I sometimes whisper my thoughts. He listens, mostly.
“Did you hear that bird?”
His ears perk up.
“Where is he?”
He watches me for a hint until we’re both distracted by the crack of a branch nearby.
“Uh oh,” I whisper. “Is that a sasquatch?”
His doggy eyes appear concerned.
“C’mere. I’m just kidding,” I say, laughing and rubbing behind his ears.
We’re sharing a moment. Exploring. Having an adventure. Just like those altar boys way back when. And we’re sampling a dose of nature’s medicine to heal whatever it is that ails us at that moment.
