Tag: nature and healing

The Consolations of Nature

Whenever the cares of life seem to be pressing the very air from my lungs, I go outside and breathe. No matter how stressed or frustrated or flustered I am, a dip into the natural world always makes me feel at least a bit better. Often, I take a little turn around the garden and look for new arrivals (whilst averting my eyes from the weeds), or I take Hermione out to play. At the weekends, I’ll venture further to the coast or the Downs. Whatever the landscape, Nature provides a healing balm to life’s scratches.

Late autumn flowers always lift the spirits
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Gifts

Nature doesn’t wait for any festival to bestow her gifts. She is generous in providing to anyone who takes a moment simply to appreciate her. This last week I have enjoyed all the usual joys of late autumn blooms, but there have been some more unusual sightings too: of a peacock butterfly that rested a few yards from where I was sitting; a rainbow arching into the sea by Beachy Head and a flock of starlings feeding on the tiny berries of my cabbage tree (palm).

Starling bird food! Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Whatever the weather

The blue skies above are a rare treat, but then, the benefits of Nature are available in all conditions. After a day of being enclosed in the house, there is no better tonic than a sea breeze to blow the blues away.

These last weeks, we seem to alternate from late summer, to high winds, to torrential rain in a matter of hours. As a friend said, ‘English weather always gives you something to talk about.’ Yet, all of these weather conditions have their charm. While sitting in the shed and supervising Hermione, the heavens opened and she ran in to join me for shelter. The rain battered the glass and the wind threatened to lift the shed off its foundations (Wizard of Oz style), but I would not have wished to be anywhere else. There are few things more comforting than being in the dry looking out at the rain and our proximity made our shelter all the more precious. Experiencing extreme weather is also a necessary reminder of all that we have to be grateful for. I never see a day like this and not think of those less fortunate who have nowhere to shelter in a storm.

Stormy weather is nothing if not dramatic Image: Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash

Investing in clothing that protects us from the elements is always a good idea. The Scandinavians know this and maintain their outdoor pursuits throughout the most adverse conditions. We once visited Copenhagen in mid February. It was so cold that even breathing was painful, yet, the streets were filled with cyclists and we passed several joggers on our walk around the city. They are wise these Danes. In addition to the usual benefits of exercise, doing it in the colder weather also enhances your mood and boosts your immune system – vital with the prevalence of germs and viruses from autumn onwards.

Unfortunately, long walks and normal exercise are no longer an option for me, but I can always make it to a bench or employ my scooter to take me further into the natural world. Even enjoying the garden from the window has its benefits and always fills me with joy. I love to watch the sun set in the evenings and the subtle shifts in colour as dusk ushers in the night. When I take Hermione out for her final toilet trip, I look up to see the moon and stars. If it is clear enough, I am rewarded with the most glorious skyscapes. Though brooding clouds with the moon peeping through thrill me also.

Moon and cloud. My favourite combination Image: Aron Visuals on Unsplash

With the recent harvest moon, my husband drove me down to the beach to see it round and fat and setting the sea alight with silver. Other days, I have watched it wax and wane, sometimes proudly holding its place in the sky and at others struggling to peek through the clouds.

And when you are unable to go outside, it’s good to know that even looking at pictures of nature will have a soothing effect. A Dutch study in 2015 found that contemplating natural images reduced stress. So if you find yourself in a windowless office, photos or posters of natural scenes will give you the boost you need.

Back to Nature

With our sophisticated lives and temperature controlled homes and buildings, it is easy to forget that we are the products of Nature. Our lives may be far from those of our ancestors, but we still need to reconnect with the earth from which we came and which sustains us. I love the image of Mother Earth. It is so warm and comforting to think of her this way. And good mother that she is, when we need her, she is always there and ready to soothe our souls.

Caveman TV

Some days, when I was very ill, fatigue swept over me like a giant wave leaving me stranded on the shore like an unfortunate starfish slowly drying in the sun.

On such days I could do nothing. Reading was exhausting. Even watching the television or listening to radio was more than I could cope with. At the beginning, I found it terrifying. What if I would never regain any energy? What if I could never properly wake up? Fear and frustration made a bad situation worse, but I was rescued by the view from my window. I was rescued by what my husband aptly named caveman TV. There is only one channel – but what a channel it is serving an absolutely endless array of beauty and action. A word of caution: it is addictive.

Sky TV

A room with a view Photo: Karen Costello-McFeat

At that time, I had a day bed located in the bay of my lounge window overlooking the rear garden. Lying down, I could not see the garden, of course, but I could see the sky. And what a magnificent sky it was. In normal life, we seldom look up except to perhaps check the weather, but now I had hours to really look – to study the colours, to follow the clouds as they shape shifted into innumerable forms. It was magnificent.

I am not alone in my love of this natural cinema. There is a Cloud Appreciation Society which publishes books with the most exquisite cloud formations, though I am happy with the most modest ones. And if I can’t convince you of the joy of cloud watching, I urge you to look at Gavin Pretor-Pinney’s TedTalk below:

Enter stage left

The clouds provided a pretty spectacular display that calmed my frayed nerves and made me feel my bed was less of a prison and more of a viewing platform. If the clouds were an ever changing backdrop, the birds were the actors that peopled the stage; their antics were as entrancing as any high-wire act.

Since I live close to the sea, the sky is always full of seagulls. Despite their (unjustified) bad reputation, these are magnificent creatures. Their aerial skills every bit as magnificent as their more celebrated cousin, the hawk.

Joining them in the sky are starlings, crows, wood pigeons and magpies. Each has its own style. Each their own personality. Each as unique as the clouds they pass over.

Natural healing

Periods of such lassitude are infrequent now, thankfully, but my craving for the garden has never waned. If anything, it has expanded with my ability to more fully immerse myself within it. Should a morning go by without a visit outside, I start to feel unsettled and fidgety. This is cured by a quick trip to the shed, if it is cold/wet, or a turn about the garden if the weather is more clement. Though I might pick the odd weed on my wanderings, I feel no particular need to do anything more than observe.

This quiet watching has proven incredibly therapeutic. I initially thought it might be because it reminded me of so many happy hours spent outside as a child. It transpires that the reason is more scientific. Studying nature is what our brains are designed to do. The very composition of trees and flowers align easily with the pattern seeking element of our minds and quite literally soothes them. The colours green and blue also require little effort for our brains to translate and thus wash over us without creating ripples of anxiety. Urban landscapes, in contrast, with their garish colours, unpredictable movement and linear forms do. All this explains why cities dwellers are more prone to aggressive behaviours than those living in countryside settings.

A place of tranquility Photo: Karen Costello-McFeat

Some enchanted evening

These last few weeks, we have spent increasing amounts of time outside and, with few obligations, allowed ourselves to simply sit and watch the events of the garden unfold. One evening, at the end of a particularly warm day, neither my husband nor I wished to return inside. Ever the pyromaniac, my husband lit the chimenea to ward off the evening chill.

The evening was, for both of us, one of our favourites in our long years together. It began prettily enough with a classic sunset composed of baby blue and pink clouds. Before the light had faded entirely, the new moon rose as fine and pale as an albino’s eyelash. The overture to the evening’s performance had begun.

As dusk fell, the birds’ evensong reached its crescendo. In the stillness of evening, each call was distinct. Then, gradually, gradually, their voices fell silent as they returned to the safety of the trees and shrubbery and settled in for the night. All we could hear was the gentle crackle of the fire.

Then, out of the deep blue sky, came a sudden rush of movement, wings beating furiously in an unfamiliar manner. Surely, we thought, the birds had all gone to bed. They had. These were their fellow creatures of the sky: bats.

For about a quarter of an hour, the tiny pipistrelle bats put on their aerial display. The Red Arrows have nothing on these little intrepid aviators who swooped in great circles to catch their supper of insects on the wing. We could only see them in silhouette and only very briefly so rapidly were they moving. Then as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone.

Mr Fox feels quite at home in the garden Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Their show over, Mr Fox made his entrance. He sauntered nonchalantly from the bottom of the garden, along the path and through the passage to the front of the house. He was terribly handsome in his thick, red coat and utterly indifferent to our presence. I imagined him giving us a nod, as if to say, ‘Lovely evening,’ before beginning his night’s adventures.

This was our last visitor. The sky was, by now, deep indigo with a smattering of stars sprinkled like freckles across her face. The solar lights blinked on; a modest mirroring of her beauty. The air turned cooler still and reluctant though we were, we stretched and headed for bed.

Why don’t you …?

When I was a child, I loved a programme called, ironically enough, Why Don’t You Just Switch Off Your Television Set And Go Out And Do Something Less Boring Instead?” In my mature years, I often do just that. I have discovered an immensely more interesting version of television – caveman TV. It is high definition, colour and surround sound, requires no electricity and has an infinite variety of programmes. It can be enjoyed in good health and poor and always, always brings joy. Which leaves only the question, Why don’t you …?