I’ve taken several days off since early March – a couple of short breaks and a couple of longer stints. Life is returning to the Northwest, and even following a mild winter, experiencing the return of birds and flowers is something to behold.
The upshot of this time off is 42 species of birds recorded as new for the year, 22 species of wildflowers in bloom, and six species of butterflies flitting about. To accomplish this, I’ve driven many miles and walked many trails; I’ve made a significant effort and spent a lot of time outdoors over the last 40 days. In addition to seeing 70 new species for the year, I started to notice something else.
It’s interesting to me how quickly day-to-day tensions – the churning thoughts about a project or how to reply to “one of those” emails – simply vanish when you see a field of Snow Geese or hear a wren. Any wren. You lose yourself in the moment, becoming totally absorbed in finding a tiny, but loud, bird or marveling at 20,000 white geese lifting off the water.
For me, a similar feeling of immersion occurs when I see my first Pasqueflower or Wyoming Kittentail. Being in nature- without earbuds or headphones – truly being in nature, is a break from the “other,” non-natural world.
It is a reprieve from the bright white numbers in bright red circles demanding attention on our phones. It is life without the beeps and haptic vibrations, as devoid as possible from that other world overwhelming our senses.
We refocus. We begin to tune in to what’s around us. We get out of our heads. We see, hear, and smell. We turn our concentration away from the self and toward our surroundings.
I’ve read half a dozen articles in the last month discussing increased blood flow in sections of the brain when people engage in birding, and how this may benefit brain health. I’ve read how truly being in nature benefits our mental health and may even improve our physical health beyond just the impact of walking and breathing deeply.
And I fully believe it.
I’ve noticed several times over the last month how the aches and pains I live with daily – from rheumatoid arthritis and a wonderfully misspent youth crashing mountain bikes, skiing, climbing, and breaking bones – simply vanish while I’m trying to take a good picture of a Baird’s Sandpiper. The discomfort fades as I steal my way around a California or Milbert’s Tortoiseshell or Sheridan’s Hairstreak, hoping to get a photo before they take off.
When we engage deeply in any activity, it’s amazing what our brain does. When you lose yourself and really focus on a task – like tracking a butterfly or identifying a bird – dopamine production increases, rewarding the behavior and effectively increasing your tolerance to pain so you can continue the activity.
I learned early on following my diagnosis that increasing my activity significantly decreased my stiffness and pain levels. I didn’t realize the extent to which birding, chasing butterflies, and examining wildflowers would further enhance my ability to tolerate the discomfort I feel daily.
There’s no doubt the medication helps. But getting a little elevation on the trails, always carrying binoculars and a camera, and stopping to engage more deeply with my surroundings – practically speaking just doing the things I did as a nine-year-old – helps even more.
So again, I fully believe it. Getting out, finding yourself in nature, and really engaging with it is deeply beneficial to both mind and body. I hope, if you read this, you stop now and go get outside. It’s good for you. Go get engaged in nature.
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