Encounters: Beneath the Beeches

This weekend, we went on a longer hike for the first time in quite a while. The twelve-kilometre trail led through a mixed forest, shaped above all by the presence of beech trees. Their tall, smooth trunks stood close together. Above us, the crowns formed a green canopy through which the light fell only here and there.

The path climbed steeply again and again. Without our hiking poles, some sections would have been considerably more difficult. Even so, our legs gradually grew heavy and our breathing quickened. Yet the farther we walked, the more everyday life receded into the distance.

I spend the entire week sitting in front of a computer. From morning until evening, my eyes are fixed on screens, messages, numbers and texts. The mind is working while the body remains almost still. Perhaps that is precisely why I need the contrast. I have to get outside, feel the earth beneath my feet again, breathe in the scent of the plants, hear the wind and become aware of my own breath.

For a long time, the forest has been one of the great places of longing for the German people. Even the Germanic peoples saw more in trees and sacred groves than mere resources. Such groves were special places where the visible world seemed to border on an invisible one. Later, the poets and painters of the Romantic era turned the forest into a symbol of homeland, freedom and inner life.

The beech is one of the defining trees of Central Europe. Beneath its broad, spreading crowns, a space of its own emerges. Sounds lose their sharpness. The light becomes softer. Even on a warm day, a pleasant coolness rests between the trunks. One does not simply walk through the forest. For a few hours, it takes one in.

In my book Beneath the Open Sky – Nature & Enjoyment, I explored in detail the effect of nature on body and mind. Numerous studies confirm what people have felt for a long time. Time spent in green surroundings can reduce stress, improve one’s mood and help the body settle into a state of calm. Yet while hiking, one does not think about studies. One simply senses that something is changing.

Perhaps it is the movement, the steady rhythm of each step or the absence of all those stimuli that reach us without pause in everyday life. Perhaps it is the rustling of the leaves, the cracking beneath our shoes or the view between the trunks. Most likely, everything works together.

When we finally left the forest, we were exhausted. Our feet hurt, our legs were tired and the twelve kilometres were clearly noticeable. Yet it was a different kind of tiredness from the one that follows a long day at the computer. Not emptiness, but a pleasant heaviness. We came home completely worn out, but happy.

The forest had cost us strength and at the same time given us new strength. Sometimes the body has to grow tired so that the mind can recover.

B.

Beneath the Open Sky – Nature & Enjoyment combines well-founded knowledge, current studies and cultural background with seasonal recipes and my own photography. The book is available on Amazon.