Forest Bathing

While planning for a trip to Germany last May, I sought the advice of a native German about whether the Black Forest in Bavaria was worth a side trip. “It’s just trees,” she said, directing me instead to the more spectacular Alps.

I’ve been thinking about her remark ever since. In doing more hikes in the Colorado forests this summer and fall than I have in the past, I’ve come to realize how much I love being among trees. Maybe because the world has become a scarier place, I feel protected among the aspens and ponderosas. As the world has become more crowded and chaotic, I treasure the sense of quiet and stillness in the deep forest. As I’ve gotten older, I move to a slower pace, and trees offer a deep and measured respite. Or maybe the hot summer made me appreciate the coolness and filtered light.

I grew up among the tall oaks and maples in the Midwest and spent summer vacations among the pines and birch trees of northern Wisconsin. Last month, I was in Wisconsin and discovered an old-growth forest so thick and dark, the light barely penetrated (left). It consisted mostly of dark pines, but even the lighter birch forests (above), aglow in fall, seemed almost impenetrable, as if they were a world unto themselves and nothing existed beyond them. In Colorado, there’s more light and space, especially among the aspens and ponderosas (below), so the forest feels less protected but more cheerful. And nothing matches walking through a redwood forest, which offers something so ancient and huge that it’s on a scale way beyond human.

Like the rest of the world, I’m coming to appreciate trees, and at a time when they are imperiled by climate change, when forests are being replaced with farm fields,  and cities are encroaching on natural areas. At the same time, scientists are discovering how complex trees are and how they benefit humans.  

Reportedly, living near or among trees contributes to better health, including decreased stress hormones, blood pressure and anxiety, while boosting immune function. Scientists are reluctant to give reasons for these health benefits, although trees are known to filter out pollutants from the air. But I think it’s more than that.

Popular new books about trees, like The Hidden Life of Trees, are showing us that trees are capable of communicating with other trees and plants, and are part of a larger network that includes underground micro-organisms. When we’re in a forest—whether aspens, ponderosas, oaks or redwoods—we’re in the presence of a web of invisible connections—all working silently together. One of the most amazing discoveries for me was that soil fungi connect the roots of different trees and provide not just nutrients but information about incoming harmful insects and other possible dangers to the tree.

Although we can’t see this support network, surely, on some level, we can feel life surging and interacting, can feel an intelligent presence beyond our own. A Japanese practice called shinrin-yoku—forest bathing—involves opening all your senses to nature, especially trees. The Japanese have a history of forest worship, including the annual springtime ritual of walking among blossoming cherry trees.

In this country we have our own forest rituals, notably enjoying the fall colors, whether the maroon maples of Vermont or the lemony aspens in Colorado. But my experience is that most people drive past the trees, stopping only to take photos.

To really experience their magic, you have to walk into the forest and bathe in the light, smells and sounds. Or lay on your back and stare up at the web of interweaving branches.  Turn off your thoughts. Strip yourself of all your defenses. If you’re quiet enough, you might hear the fungi passing secret information or the trees softly inhaling and exhaling.

Comments

[Julene Bair]

All so true! Strange that many of us are oblivious to what the forests do for our sense of well-being and that we need scientific studies to tell us they relieve stress. If we just stand still for a minute and breathe, we can feel our cortisol levels decreasing and peace suffusing our being. After we finally had rains here in northern California last week, and the smoke from the Camp wildfire dissipated, it was incredible to walk through trees along the shores of a local lake breathing the newly cleansed air and smelling the greenery.

[shoney]

Lovely! Come and visit the redwoods!

[Brent]

Love your photography. The last sentence is my favorite word. Wisconsin Public Television produced a 'Wisconsin Water From the Air' program you might want to watch. There are three water journey's over Wisconsin. The first journey takes us on the Wisconsin River route through the middle of the state (Wausau, where I live). The second journey takes us along the east side of Wisconsin, along the shore of Lake Michigan (a lot of Door County scenes). And the third journey takes us along the St. Croix/Mississippi River routes on the west side of the state (places I have yet to see). It is beautifully shot and has a nice soundtrack. Thought you might like to see it. Here is the link: https://www.pbs.org/video/wisconsin-water-from-the-air-nrv1ke

[Kathy Kaiser]

Thanks, Brent, and thanks for the link to the PBS piece on Wisconsin water. The photography is gorgeous. I could feel myself relaxing as I watched it--just to see all those beautiful lakes and streams. And there's so much more of Wisconsin I want to explore now--like the western edge.

[Kathy Kaiser]

thanks, Shoney. The redwoods are incredible. Can't wait to see them again.

[Kathy Kaiser]

Julene, glad to hear that you've had some cleansing rain. Amazing how we can appreciate those smells and sights again after something calamitous, like the fires.