What I think it missing in most interactions with nature is a loving intention. It is too often seen as an object to be manipulated and used at will, as if it only exists for the purpose of humans. What set my experience apart from others I’ve had is that I truly took the time to set my intention and carry it out, while I also spent time along and was in the moment with nature truly experiencing.

Victoria’s brain can be a blocked-depressed or hyperactive embarrassment (so a shrink would be too quick to label bipolar), and out of convenience, she promptly decided to express her outpour of ideas through stream-of-conscious, cartoon-like doodling rather than regular right-left-top-down-the-page “writing.” Though, in great
retrospective shame, she wished her mental energies were channeled better, and in a more organized fashion.

As I walk with my friend of 17 years upon a hill which I’ve known for 21, I am alerted to the attention of three doe and a single fawn. We (my friend, the deer and I) came to a mutual understanding of goodwill and, I like to believe, respect. I turned my back to the deer, my newest friends, and looked out upon the horizon framed by a golden sunset. Needless to say I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace, but also clarity and understanding. Thanks, nature, for reminding me that we’re never truly alone.

While it was snowing in Seattle in January of 2012, two friends of mine and I explored Volunteer Park. It was the first time I had ever seen a snowfall in a natural setting, and watching it drift in in waves as the sky grew dimmer was nothing short of enchanting. We ran across flat surfaces that had once been full of tiny mounds and depressions, threw snowballs and shook the powder off of thin tree-branches, raining cold dust upon unsuspecting walkers below. All the while, the leaves, the rocks, the very ground sparkled with otherworldly scintillation, as the sleeping Earth rested under our feet. As night fell, the glimmer of moonlight upon the fallen snow transfigured the land, bequeathing us a new realm full of magic and mischief. As we eventually left the park, I could not help but notice that every surface I saw was just as stunningly beautiful as the natural splendor we had just left. Under inches of snow, who can discern grass from concrete or asphalt? That night, nature laid its white carpet all the way to our door, and as I warmed up with a hot toddy I gave thanks to the great forces around and above that we might be so blessed– not only to have experienced this frigid bounty, but to have a respite from it as well.

(A note: The enclosed photo was taken not at the park, but about a mile away at the waterfront. It was remarkably hard to get a clear photo from a cellular phone camera in a snow flurry, so I chose the clearest and most striking from my album, rather than the most area-specific.)

I love being engulfed in nature, to be surrounded by trees and rolling green hills without any evidence of human interference is my idea of a nature experience. For a few years now I have been rock climbing. Climbing is a great way to “play” with the natural environment. Mother Earth provides me with a fun-filled day and i make sure that she stays clean and healthy (Leave no trace). One of my most memorable climbing experiences was when I was in Joshua Tree. I woke up before the rest of my group and climbed up to the top of a nearby face, and just sat there. I looked at my beautiful surroundings and felt the crisp desert morning air on my face. After taking a moment to meditate (my current line of research), I slowly went back down to meet with my group. Often times we get caught up in the every day hussle and bustle, I have found that when we take a moment to reflect on our environment we learn a lot about ourselves.

Every morning when I’m riding my bicycle to work I enjoy a meanful relationship with the natural world. I feel the warmth of the sun and the cool dampness of the rain. The wind brings the smell of flowers, soil, grass, trees, animal manure and many more. I hear the birds singing, the chickens crowing, the dogs barking and children playing. I see my neighbors, I watch squirrels, I see the changing season in the trees. My senses are alive and active. I feel joy and a connection to the world around me that I cannot get while in a car.