Getting Outside

I’ve always enjoyed being outdoors. As a child, I would take every opportunity to explore the world around me. Walking home after school was the best. I remember laying on fresh cut grass and watching the large white clouds, in all their glorious shapes and animal sizes, float through the sky. And in the winter, I’d lay in the same spot. Only this time, it was atop a mound of fluffy snow. Today, I can feel the cold penetrate my bones within minutes, even with two pairs of wool socks. But I don’t remember feeling cold as a child; I just remember making snow angels and stuffing the snow in my mouth when it first fell (we had no idea back then that we probably shouldn’t eat snow).

I fell in love with the forest and mountains again after the pandemic. Not that I ever lost appreciation for it but something about that dark, scary time made being out in nature feel like a warm, cozy blanket. There is something awe-inspiring about being surrounded by trees and forest that have seen people come and go, by being in something that is self-sustaining and breathing life because of all its living parts. Even on the hardest days, being out in a forest of redwood trees takes my breath away and the smallness I feel is humbling in the best way possible.