“Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves,” wrote John Muir over a century ago. Aside from the almost instant feeling of calm and contentment that accompanies time outdoors, hiking in nature can reduce rumination. Ruminate: to chew the cud, to turn over in the mind, related to an early word for gullet, to belch out. Many of us often find ourselves ruminating, consumed by negative thoughts, which takes us out of the enjoyment of the moment at best and leads us down a path to depression and anxiety at worst. But a recent study published in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that spending time in nature significantly decreases these obsessive, negative thoughts. I must confess, I was ruminating as I started out hiking at Sharpe Park / Montgomery - Duban Headlands this week. I had work issues on my mind, family issues, relationships, finances, and I was even ruminating about what I was going to eat for dinner. I needed to clear my mind and my heart and let the sunshine flow into me; to let my cares drop off like autumn leaves. “It’s beginning to look a little like autumn,” I thought to myself as I strolled down the first section of trail. Some Ocean Spray leaves had already turned yellow. The ground was littered with last year’s madrone leaves, like potato chips underfoot. I headed down Porpoise Point Trail to the north, which drops quickly down to the water’s edge, passing through groves of madrone and grasses. At the rocky walls of the shoreline, a haze hid the Olympics from view and softened the outline of the San Juans. A young couple hoisted their toddler onto dad’s back and they hiked toward me, masks on, watching for low-hanging branches that the toddler ducked to avoid. “She's already learned the hard way,” her mom said. The warm afternoon and the up and down nature of the trail encouraged me to shed my clothing layers down to just a tank top and shorts. Sweat still beaded a little on the tips of my hair. Leaving the crevices and caves of the coastline, I climbed back up to Sunburst Trail and headed south, enjoying the bursts of sun through the open woods and onto the meadows and mosses. Soon I joined up with the Sares Head Trail and I followed that ever upward toward the open bald and ultimate destination. I climbed the final ascent to the wondrous view from the top. The air was still, the view muted, the day taking a siesta. Here in mid-August the grasses and mosses were dry and brittle. I sat and absorbed the world at my feet, looking near and far and focused outward across the distances. Eventually I turned to go, finding my way back down the trail to return to the car. As I entered the deeper woods, I listened to each sound that I could hear. Chickadee, nuthatch, silence, a woodpecker off in the distance, a motorboat further still, more silence. Then a still small voice of wind whispering in the highest branch tips, a voice too quiet to discern the words but the message sighing clearly: You are here. Be at peace. I think that as we hike, our bodies focus on the trail for our feet to find our way, and then our minds on the habitat to connect with the place, and then our hearts on the universe to hear once again the harmony of our soul within and without. I hiked back out in a different spirit than I had entered. As the saying goes, solvitur ambulando. jack And be sure to give a word of thanks to volunteer Rick Machin for removing the reachable Scotch broom from the park! Directions: From Highway 20 at the bridge, go north to Rosario Road and turn left. Follow Rosario Road about a mile and a half to the parking area on your left. From Anacortes, take D Avenue south, which becomes A Avenue, then Havekost Drive, then Marine Drive, then Rosario Road. Sharpe Park will be on your right shortly after you pass Sharpe Road on your left.
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Maribeth Crandell has been a hiking guide in the Pacific NW for over 20 years. She's lived on Whidbey and Fidalgo Island for decades. As a frequent bus rider she easily makes connections between trails and transit. Archives by date
April 2024
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