I walked along the wooded path, holding my arms a breath away from my sides, my palms facing outward. The edges of the leaves of the mature undergrowth lightly brushed my sensitive skin, leaving behind a touch of morning moistness. I inhaled deeply, and focused my eyes just a few feet in front of me, moving leisurely forward with baby steps. I exhaled, and realized I could actually hear myself breathing. Amazing, the sound of my breath, always present but rarely noticed in the din of the external world. I stood a moment, taking in the quiet of the pine straw covered trail. A few feet ahead, a sharp incline began-—the path back up to the “real” world.

I started climbing, now using my hands to grab onto branches and small tree trunks. The pine straw had given way to slick, red clay mud. I carefully placed one foot after the other, and then pulled myself upward and forward. As I reached the top, I turned slightly, looked at the quiet haven below, and said a silent thank you to the spirits of this place. I turned back, parted the bushes that covered the trail opening, and stepped onto the grassy shoulder of The Silver Comet Trail. My bike was leaning against a tree on the other side of the asphalt strip that runs for sixty miles from Atlanta to the Alabama border. I took a step toward it, grateful it was still there, and jolted as a roller blader came barreling around the nearby curve at warp speed, shouting, “Hey, watch it!”

So much for peace and quiet. Horns being honked by commuters on the East-West Connector, just a few feet on the other side of a tree buffer, confirmed that I had indeed made my way back to everyday life. I exhaled, and then I smiled. I would be back. I always come back. The call of nature is in my bones.

I am one of the lucky ones. Nature has called to me since I was too small to see over a low hedge of early spring holly berry bushes. As I grew into a hurried adult, and became surrounded by the concrete metropolis that Atlanta has become, I found ways, even in the middle of a cement jungle, to get my nature fix.

If some of my suggestions (see sidebar) seem to be encouraging you to try something a bit off the beaten path, you are right! Get out in nature and FEEL it! Doing things in nature, like outdoor sports, is great, but it is not the same as simply spending time with nature. The benefits you receive from forming a sensory relationship with nature cover the gamut from physical to emotional to spiritual. And, there is another benefit we don’t think about very often. Being connected to nature is a two-way street. Nature needs you just as much as you need it. The natural world thrives on a soft-spoken kind word, a sign of recognition, and gratitude—just like you do.

Remember, there was a time when the tallest things in the skyline were trees. People used to pick flowers from fields rather than picking them up at grocery stores. No matter how thick the cement is that you walk on—or how high you sit in a glass tower during your workdays—remember, under it all is the soil and the rock and the core of the Earth.

Next time you walk down a sidewalk and see a tiny weed growing through a crack, pause, say thank you, and honor what sits beneath all the things man has built.

Karen Stone is a freelance and staff writer for several regional magazines and lives in Atlanta, GA. She is an avid lover of the outdoors. She is part of Fun Hikes, a Georgia based hiking group.

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