A couple of years ago, Jim and I moved into our dream home—a place where we hope to spend the rest of our years. It’s literally at the end of a road in a town called Sunset, all of which seems appropriate, right? I wrote about my search for home, and the history of this place here.
As we settled in, I started to dream about having a nature trail on our 14 acres. It would be a walking path through the woods, where I could do ecotherapy with my clients and offer workshops in nature-based mindfulness. I didn’t want to have the trail all to myself, I wanted to share it with others.
It took a minute, but …. we have our trail now. And we’re sharing it. I am so happy.
It’s nothing grand—a half-mile circle that winds alongside Smith Creek and through the forest, tracing the perimeter of our land—but I love it. Jim and I walk it every day, usually accompanied by Cleo the cat. Here’s a glimpse for you. Note the moment when I stumble, and also Cleo’s tree-climbing cameo near the end.
One of the first groups to enjoy our trail, even before it was finished, was last fall’s Silent Hike. I wrote about that lovely day here.
Then, this spring, came the students from Brevard College in North Carolina. They were enrolled in a class called “Nature-Informed Stress Management.” (Don’t you wish they offered that class when you were in college?!)
Their professor, my friend Rocky Nation, is in the center of the front row. I wrote about him in Champions of Nature #3. Rocky has collaborated with me in the past on workshops about forest bathing and he does really cool research on the physiological effects of spending time in nature.
Those young people were wonderful, trekking the trail with brio, noticing plants and animals along the way. When we got to the creek, they really lit up. Somebody found a caddisfly egg case on the underside of a rock in the water—most excellent!
Today, our guests were a group of retirees who signed up for a class I offered through OLLI at Clemson University. OLLI is a nationwide program that offers a huge variety of classes, each OLLI based at a university. The teachers are volunteers, many of them retired professors, and the students are over-50 “lifelong learners.”
I called the class Mindfulness in Nature, and billed it as a healing walk along our nature therapy trail. To my delight, the class filled right away, with a waiting list.
I knew it would be a hot day, so I cold-brewed some herbal tea and sliced up watermelon for our after-hike refreshment. I also kept a close eye on the weather forecast, which was predicting a thunderstorm for later in the afternoon, right about the time we’d be finishing our class. Perfect!
Only … the storm arrived early. Just as my OLLI students made their way up our mountain driveway, it started to rain—lightly. I hoped it wouldn’t do much more, but ominous thunder was rumbling in the distance. We stood at the trailhead to discuss our options. The group voted: Let’s GO! So we headed into the woods, even as the sky darkened.
Our walk was a bit more brisk than I would’ve wanted and the stops I had planned for us along the trail, where we would do mindfulness practices, had to be shortened. But I want to tell you: Those OLLI folks were intrepid. They refused to give up, even as raindrops were pelting their heads.
Here they are, doing the “Sit Spot” exercise in the fern circle at creekside. By the time we arrived here, it was raining steadily. The chairs were wet. I suggested we keep walking but they said No way! We want to do the sit! So we did.
And here they are, tromping through the downpour with nary a complaint among them.
We made it back to the house quite damp, but pleased with our adventure.
“I feel so refreshed,” one of my students said. “Like new!”
We clustered on the front porch to chat and eat, then we each read aloud a work of nature poetry printed on scrolls. Here’s the one I read, by a poet named Toyohiko Kagawa:
I want to be ever a child
I want to feel an eternal friendship
for the raindrops, the flowers,
the insects, the snowflakes.
I want to be keenly interested in everything,
with mind and muscle ever alert,
forgetting my troubles in the next moment.
The stars and the sea, the ponds and the trees,
the birds and the animals, are my comrades.
Though my muscles may stiffen,
though my skin may wrinkle,
may I never find myself yawning
at life.
It’s such a joy to freely open my small corner of the world to people who cherish this Earth and her beauties. What a never-ending gift. What a sweet sharing.
The next guests on our nature therapy trail? Hopefully, this fall will bring a troop of Girl Scouts and (if their grant comes through) some deputies from the local sheriff’s department. They asked if I could teach a workshop in mental health and wellness for first responders. They understand there’s healing power in nature, and they know how much they need it.
Of course, I said. The trail is waiting for you!
I am Jim. And I approve this message. 💙
This is so awesome! That is living the dream. A home, with lots of space in nature, a nature trail, and friends to share it with. Yes! And I need to find out more about OLLI, I never heard of that before.