Forest Bathing

With the beautiful spring weather, I’ve had the opportunity to spend a lot of time in nature of late—a day at Cowpens National Battlefield, the sight of a Revolutionary War battle, another day at South Mountain State Park where the views of the waterfalls are breathtaking, and yet another at Hershey Botanical Gardens just in time to see the colorful variety of tulips in bloom.

One of my favorite places is Vereen Memorial Gardens, a small forest reserve that sits on the northern border of the South Carolina coast, where my husband and I make a point of visiting whenever we’re at the beach. As well as hiking, the park is a popular place for bird-watching and fishing, dog-walking, or just enjoying the maritime woods.  

There is an endless Carolina blue sky the day Don and I head out along the wooden boardwalk that crosses to two small islands. In the salt marsh, we come upon a snowy egret standing tall in the pluff mud. Like a little boy, Don can’t resist trying to feed it, tossing in pieces of bread leftover from breakfast. The egret stares at us blankly, more interested in the fish it’s hoping to catch.

On the first island, a path to the left leads to a wide observation deck along the Intracoastal Waterway where fishermen cast their lines. To the right, we walk along another boardwalk that parallels a narrow beach covered in brilliant white oyster shells. On this little island, pin oaks, pines, and shrubbery with tangled roots grow at odd angles. One tree in particular has been designated a ‘wishing tree’ where people write their wishes on the scattered oyster shells and hang them on the branches. “More adventures,” someone wrote; another person, “Good health and healing for everyone,” with a little heart drawn underneath.

Across a third boardwalk we begin the 2.3 mile outer-loop through the maritime woods, following the red markers attached to the trees. It’s an easy, short walk along sandy, mostly flat trails, but with the many side paths, the walk can be extended.

The scent of pine resin is strong, a gentle breeze cools our skin, squirrels forage in the brush—there is nothing like a walk in the woods to lift my spirits, and, it turns out, there is scientific evidence that being in nature is a natural mood enhancer. Shinrin-yoku, or “forest bathing” is a term that emerged in Japan in the 1980s, offering an eco-antidote for technology burnout while also inspiring people to reconnect with nature.

According to Qing Li, author of the book, Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness, “This is not exercise, or hiking, or jogging. It is simply being in nature, connecting with it through our senses of sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch. Shinrin-yoku is like a bridge. By opening our senses, it bridges the gap between us and the natural world.”

On some level, we’ve always known a walk in the woods is regenerative. A little research shows just twenty minutes of forest bathing has been known to lower blood pressure, heart rate, and put one in a relaxed mood. It can lead to a sense of well-being and happiness while also reducing stress.

We take a side trail that leads to the memorial garden, where a stone angel keeps watch over the Vereen family whose descendants are the people who have preserved the property. At one point, we hear hammering high up in the pines, and stop to observe several pileated woodpeckers with red crests and black and white feathers flitting about. The park is a designated wildlife sanctuary, and over the years, we have encountered snakes, deer, blue heron, and once, a cooper hawk.

Don and I reach the end of the red trail and cross the street to the blue trail, stopping to chat with a man carrying binoculars who points out an owl’s nest high up in an oak. We stand still for a while trying to catch a glimpse, but the owl stays hidden, resting for a nocturnal flight we assume. Around another bend, we come to Buckeye Pond, a swampy pond covered in green algae. In the crook of a tree out in the pond, we think we see a red cardinal, but, strangely, it turns out to be a small garden gnome. Geocaching, perhaps? That’s our best guess.   

We follow the blue markers up some wooden steps, around a bend to the last leg of the path, passing a gazebo with a view of the marsh, arriving back where we started an hour later. For a few minutes, we sit on a swinging bench overlooking the Intracoastal, breathing in the salty air and observing the fishing and leisure boats as they head out to sea. A renewed sense of well-being swells inside us, and as our forest bath ends, I’m reminded of the wish on the shell: good health and healing for everyone.

Indeed.