FORESTBURGH, NY — A few months ago, I interviewed John Harvey, author of “Nature’s Pathways to Mindfulness.” At the time, I was intrigued by his in-depth research into the effect nature has on people. As a psychologist, John brought a bit more to the table, analyzing the ways in which nature’s beneficial effects have on our human well-being physically, emotionally, cognitively and even spiritually.

The end of the summer seemed to be a good time to experience just what the book and author cover, specifically the concept of a Sit Spot. The meaning of it is to pick a spot in nature and sit there for up to an hour and observe, using our full sensory awareness. The purpose of it exceeds the definition in that we as people are actually allowing ourselves to reap the benefits that the birds, butterflies, trees and so forth, have already discovered.

Covered from head to toe with warm-enough clothing (it is after all the Catskill Mountains) that is as comfortable as it is protective, we set out into the woods surrounding Lake Joseph in Forestburgh, a small town with more forest than people.

We left the car in an open area of grass after John unpacked the two stools for our eventual Sit Spot. We followed the first path, which didn’t seem too woodsy at first—until we veered away from the sign pointing toward the lake. We kept walking and approached a thicket that seemed appropriate for woods.

John pointed out various flora, such as the fireweed, which resembled more flower than weed in my opinion, especially as it glistened in the sunlight. 

I kept my eyes peeled for anything that breathed and moved—specifically a member of the local bear family, as I wondered just how fast I could climb a tree.

As my gaze went downwards to step over the brush, I noticed a pen that blended in with the blues and greens of the flora on the trail. I added it to my backpack just in case I needed an extra.

The lake was very far off in the distance and not visible; this was something we hadn’t expected. The trick was how to navigate our way toward the lake. Fortunately, John’s phone came equipped with all kinds of info as it guided us forward and left. Clearly, the phone didn’t realize how thick the forest would get, as we also had to climb over some boulders and through a thicket of mountain laurel as we advanced to our destination. 

Close to an hour had passed by the time we arrived and perched ourselves on a large rock that literally sat at the water’s edge. As John unfolded the stools, I thought maybe we were a bit hemmed in to what was our Sit Spot. Good balance was key for sitting on the three-legged stool and keeping a view of water, sky and forest—which were all the elements that we needed to observe nature.

Now came the fun part, during which we used our natural senses to bring us closer to our environment. We were listening for sounds, whether of lapping waves from the wind, inhaling the fragrances of trees and plants, or just feeling the cool breeze glide over our fingers.

We took  notes every 10 minutes per John’s direction. The sky was truly sky-blue above us with wisps of clouds passing by. 

Suddenly, we heard an unusual sound, a “Mew, mew, mew.” John affirmed that it was a catbird, and I was surprised that a bird took on a name for an animal that regarded birds as prey. There was a slight distraction by the obvious growl of a garden tractor that maybe didn’t want to be working that day. We ignored the noise and continued to tune in and hear more bird songs and calls in the distance. 

The leaves around us flickered in the breeze while a mini insect was seen crawling in the grass. We continued to hear the waves lapping along as the wind picked up; along with a leaf’s orange hue, it indicated that fall was on its way. Which way would the confused leaf blow now? I wasn’t sure, but thought that it would figure it out.

Just when you think there are no surprises, a tiny bird nestled on a plant branch on my left before taking flight. John heard its husky tchep-tchep call and thought it was probably a common yellowthroat. He also had his binoculars out to seize the moment of a bird on a top branch above us, which he identified as a kingfisher. I had a glimpse of it and wondered how a bird could have such a regal name.

With so much to observe, our one hour dissipated quickly. We were now going to exit the forest, or so I thought. I suddenly realized that without a breadcrumb trail to follow, where are we going? 

Interestingly, the earlier thoughts of worry I had about what we would encounter were now gone. It was easy to accept where we had been and believe nature would ensure our way out. 

That said, our journey away from the water was a bit complicated by an even thicker brush. Stepping over logs and shooing away the many branches blocking our path, we continued moving. Suddenly realizing we were back on a familiar welcoming path, we then saw the sign for the lake, and knew we were almost there.

And yes, the fireweeds were now in view, greeting us with what I thought was a sign: “We knew you could do this.”

We high-fived it when we noticed the car, and for a brief nostalgic moment, wondered when we could go back for another hour. There is a deep feeling of gratitude after being nurtured by nature while reflecting on one’s own personal experience.

I believe rereading this story on September 11 will keep me grounded, knowing nature will welcome me back when I need to ease my mind. Consider taking the time to be in or near nature, and discover how restorative and soothing it is, providing a sense of peace for all of us.

Learn more about John Harvey on Facebook at John Harvey Author.