The Green Cure: Nature Heals
“The fish sure are getting smaller,” Grandpa said to the park ranger who snuck up on us like a ninja in the night.
“I need to see your fishing license,” he demanded, looking unamused. Clad in 5–11 khaki pants, an olive-green polo shirt, and a khaki baseball cap, he scanned the area with suspicious eyes. His weathered face told a story of countless hours spent outside.
Roy, my brother & I held onto our rods, eyes forward, trying to stay out of grown folks’ business. But I couldn’t resist trying to ear hustle. “Let me find it,” Grandpa said as he searched his pockets.
Three rainbow trout hung from our fish stringer on the bank, and a bucket full of minnows rested between us.
It was a cool spring evening at Wheatfields Lake, my favorite of all the lakes we camped at with Grandma & Grandpa. I sat comfortably on the angular-shaped rocks that lined the shore, anxiously eyeing the tip of my rod. Fishing was always the first thing we did when we got to the lake.
How it started:
Grandma woke me up at 5 am. We spent the morning hours packing up the RV and Chevy for the 4-hour drive. Roy & I stayed out of the way, as we were often told, while my uncles, Roy and Gus, did most of the packing.
This was my favorite part of summer. We’d all pile into the truck and ride, however long it took, to get to the lake of Grandpa’s choosing. I never asked where; there was always an adventure to be had wherever we were going.
It took years to identify and give language to it, but my romance with nature began during those summer camping trips. Being outside grounded me; I felt safe among the trees.
Crammed in the back of the Chevy, my uncles, brother, and I slept for most of the trip on thin foam mattresses in the bed of the truck. Roy & I on one side, Uncle Joe on the other, and Uncle Gus on the top bunk.
When I woke up, I sipped the last of my Coke and glanced out the window, where I saw a wooden plaque nailed to a tree with “B-12” etched in yellow paint. “We’re here!” I exclaimed, waking Uncle Gus. A tinge of excitement filled my body!
Grandpa raised the door to the camper and joked about the foul odor. “What did I tell you about taking your socks off, Joe? I could smell your feet up front!”
I, on the other hand, was focused on another scent. The unmistakable scent of nature! I could smell damp soil, pine needles, moss, and decaying leaves. The elixir of the great outdoors.
I instantly felt lighter. Similar to how I felt after a massage or after accidentally taking a nap after a tough workout. A weight had been lifted off my chest.
🎣Fishing for Trouble
Grandpa dug the handle of his gold fishing rod into the rocks and pulled his reading glasses from his shirt pocket. He was playing the part while the park ranger impatiently fidgeted with his pen.
As Grandpa fumbled through his pockets, pretending to search for a fishing license that didn’t exist, I covered the minnow bucket with the dingy rag we use to wipe our hands. I moved slowly to avoid drawing attention.
Grandpa used minnows for bait. Every time we went fishing, he’d remind us to cover the bucket if we saw the ranger coming.
“What’s the deal with the minnows, Grandpa? Why do we always have to cover the bucket?”
“They don’t like us using the minnows for bait. We might get in trouble.”
My brother and I had mastered the job of catching baby fish. It was one of our favorite things to do, aside from netting crawdads to boil and eat. What we didn’t know was that Grandpa had been fined many times for using minnows as bait. It was against the law, but he didn’t seem to care.
What we did know was that neither of us, not me, not Grandpa, nor my brother, had a fishing license. Grandpa planned to get them at the lake, but that plan was foiled when we arrived later than expected.
Luckily, it turned out that Ranger Bob, whose name was discovered when Uncle Joe came to ask for cigarettes, was pretty cool. Grandpa explained his dilemma and got off with a warning. I was relieved our first day at the lake wouldn’t be ruined by yet another fine.
Nature Got Me Through the Pandemic
There’s never been a time that tested my mental health more than during the pandemic. As a first responder, it was my job to “figure things out.” My peers and I often joked that as police officers, our job was not only law enforcement, but whatever was needed at the time.
Our job description could include any number of roles, such as a counselor to calm people down or listen to their distress, a GPS device to give directions, a janitor to clean up after the fact, a lost & found to help locate items, and, sometimes, enforcing the law.
Navigating those first few months of the COVID-19 pandemic was chaotic. We were concerned about our safety and wanted to wear masks, but management was more concerned about public perception. They didn’t want to scare anyone more than they already were, but that couldn’t be changed. People were in a state of panic.
Once masks were given the green light, the question arose about which types of masks were most effective. We started with a guide on how to make cloth masks, transitioned to hospital masks, and were eventually issued KN95 masks, which were the only ones we were allowed to wear.
Ultimately, the responsibility of enforcing mask-wearing fell on us, at which point we became the “mask police.” It was a lot to process.
There was no learning curve; the pandemic was something we had never experienced before. This was new territory, and protocols were being made along the way, which was mentally taxing.
Days turned into months, which turned into years, and it seemed there was no end in sight. People panicked over the availability of toilet paper, how to get groceries, how to teach kids from home, Zoom was the new meeting space, and everything was shut down.
Luckily, nature was OPEN!
It didn’t take long for me to hit the proverbial wall. I was crashing under the isolation, anxiety, and uncertainty, and wanted out. I needed to be outside, away from the madness, somewhere else, basking in the sun with sand underfoot.
I decided to head to the beach. I packed up Toby, my dog, and drove to the nearest KOA to spend some time with nature for overdue therapy. It was wonderful! I reflected on the traumatic events of the past 90 days, hiked, watched the sun set, swam with Toby, and felt reinvigorated for the first time in months.
After that, I began to organize weekly hikes. Those hikes, with friends, carried me through COVID. Those treks outside not only refreshed my spirit but also provided therapy for everyone involved. A lifeline that pulled me out of what could have easily snowballed into a depression.
Weekly hikes with Toby quickly transformed into Saturdays spent with 10+ anxious friends & acquaintances meandering through the woods. We were traversing the unknown together. This had become our new normal.
We searched for trails and, as a group, would decide which route to hike next. Everyone’s joy was evident. We were lighter, less concerned, and free to laugh & joke. Being outside had replaced the bar and restaurant as our preferred gathering place.
What the Research Says
In a 2023 pilot study titled “Nature-Based Therapy in Individuals with Mental Health Disorders, with a Focus on Mental Well-Being and Connectedness to Nature,” researchers looked at how spending time in nature could help young people who were feeling both physically and emotionally unwell.
The researchers found that being outdoors — like walking in forests or sitting by lakes — made a big difference. The kids felt happier, less stressed, and more connected to the world around them. Their feelings of sadness went down in ways doctors could measure.
The study also showed that nature didn’t just serve as a beautiful backdrop; it was part of their healing process. Being outside helped people open up, feel calmer, and think more clearly. Some even said it felt like nature was helping them heal deep inside, like “at the soul level.”
I agree, being outdoors induces deep healing. It’s restorative. In the military, I was often stationed near a beach and would visit it, often to cry, think, journal, and contemplate life.
- As a runner, I choose parks and wooded trails as backdrops for my runs, often pausing to marvel at the miracles of nature.
- As a cyclist, I enjoy riding down tree-lined roads. The trees usher me in from the cold, welcoming me as I pedal, and protecting me from the elements.
Norwegians refer to nature therapy as Friluftsliv. This term specifically refers to the concept of spending time in nature for recreation, spiritual well-being, and a connection with the outdoors.
For Norwegians, spending time outdoors is more than just recreation; it’s a philosophy and a way of life that emphasizes being in nature, disconnecting from modern stressors, and finding joy in simple outdoor activities.
Self-Care in Crazy Times
Here we go again, facing unprecedented times, which some might consider more challenging than the pandemic. We’re living through political turmoil where uncertainty lurks around every corner and changes occur with every newscast.
I find myself going inward to focus on my mental health. Things that used to feel normal — like kindness, fairness, and respect — have been replaced by anger, blame, and division. It’s like the world has split into sides, and compassion has been lost in the noise.
The world is falling apart! I’ve been here before and have learned to adapt, with nature as my trusty companion.
My final days at work, which had previously been filled with taskers and calls for service to “real” incidents, were replaced with complaints from angry employees returning to the office for the first time in years. Another new normal for many.
After careful consideration, I opted for early retirement from a federal position I wasn’t quite ready to leave. I was enjoying the fruits of my labor in a 20-year career that I loved, but couldn’t deal with the mayhem and uncertainty any longer! The stress and anxiety were killing me.
Nature to the rescue, once again.
After work, walks with Toby were my mind’s medicine. I doubled down by listening to a walking meditation. I took solace in long, quiet evening strolls through my subdivision to quiet the noise in my head.
Quiet weekend runs through the park, surrounded by the rustling leaves, singing birds, and chirping cicadas, were a wonderful bonus. Spending time hiking with friends were also enjoyable. Nature therapy has been my drug of choice since childhood. It hasn’t let me down yet.
So, if you’re struggling with everything that’s going on right now, lace up your shoes and go outside. Go for a walk in your local park. Go for a hike with friends. Go camping. Reflect, take it all in, exhale, and heal. Trust me, you’ll feel better.
2 Responses
Nature Got Me Through the Pandemic, it certainly did and continues to ground me in these trying stressful times
We need to get back to our hikes!