Nature has a special way of affecting everyone uniquely. To demonstrate this, we asked some of our staff around the office how time in nature has helped them in becoming themselves.
COLE BEDICS
The Tallapoosa River is a place that I like to go when I have the whole day to myself. I have not found any other place in the auburn area that gives me goose bumps just to think about, barring the iron bowl. I have on many occasions been moved to tears by the outstanding abundance and beauty that this river has to share. On an early fall morning I headed to the top of lake martin, where the river is stalled by the stagnant waters of the lake. I get out of my car at the boat ramp and walk up a sand bar until I hit moving water. After about a quarter mile wade I ran into a river feature known as Irwin Shoals. This is a place where the deep river widens into what can only be described as a complex of little streams which create islands of water lily and water willow, it could be pictured as a swiftly flowing river delta.
On this specific morning I found a persimmon tree on one of the islands and had my fill of its sweet and mild fruit. I was there to go fishing but there was no rush to catch a fish, rather I was filled with a sense of awe and peace at the absolute abundance of this treasures’ natural things. A softshell turtle popped his head out of a rapid, only to see me and return to his rock below the cascade of water. Blue herons stood in the distance, like me, they were stalking these waters for its rewards. Damsel flies of every single color bounced from plant to plant, landing on my still fishing rod perhaps to take a breath. Frogs, falcons, beavers, and bass were all there with me to view the divinity of this place. Feelings of awe and inspiration flowed by me like the current around my legs, never ceasing. I want to spend the rest of my life protecting places like this…
A Blue Heron Hangs out in the shade.
YARI
Being born and raised in Caracas, Venezuela, with El Ávila mountain as part of my everyday view, shaped my relationship with nature from a very young age. Seeing the mountain daily connected me to something bigger than myself and grounded me through my family, culture, and personal well-being. Nature became a constant presence in my life, one that offered calm, balance, and perspective, even during busy or uncertain moments.
Yari hugging the El Avila mountain range in Caracas, Venezuela.
I also love spending time in nature with my family and friends, using those moments to slow down and truly appreciate the people in my life. Being outdoors allows me to reflect on the support, love, and understanding I receive from those who help me grow and appreciate me for who I am. When life feels rushed or overwhelming, nature helps me reconnect not only with myself, but also with my roots, my memories, and the people who matter most to me.
CHLOE
Time in nature has played a huge role in helping me feel more grounded and present. When life feels busy or overwhelming, being outside slows everything down in a way nothing else can. Whether I’m walking through campus, sitting outdoors, or noticing different plants and animals, nature pulls me out of my head and back into my body. I especially love bringing a journal or sketchbook with me to write down how I’m feeling or to draw what I notice around me. This practice helps me focus on the here and now, rather than letting my mind spiral into overthinking or stress. Over time, these moments have shaped how I approach both my life and my creative work. Nature has taught me patience and balance, reminding me that not everything needs to be rushed or controlled.
LILLY
For me, nature has functioned as both a place of discovery and a reminder of who I am. A rush of cold water from a waterfall fills my sensations and reminds me that I’m alive. A silent morning among the trees allows my world to finally feel still. Most importantly, nature serves as a place of connection between all people and things that share the same love and value for nature as I have.
As the “tree huggers” of the family, I have formed many fond memories with my dad through our times in nature. As a kid, my dad would take my siblings and I “hunting”- though we mostly just ate snacks and talked much too loud for any animals to come near us- as it was the same past time that his father used to teach him how to be present and appreciate nature. Later in life, my dad and I would work on our land to plant clover for animals to eat, conduct controlled burns to encourage primary growth, and take care of the ecosystem that has been around for centuries before us. It was in nature, with my dad, where I gained my most valuable knowledge of the environment and life.
The “tree huggers” in action at Sequoia National Park
JEN MORSE
Nature provides a space where you can test your limits, grow your skills and abilities, connect with others and the environment, and find calm. However, it’s times when nature challenged me physically, mentally, and/or emotionally that influenced me the most. The bitter cold temperatures and the sweltering heat of wildland fires both made the simple task of taking a deep breath a challenge. From the tiniest black flies swarming and biting my face to the scream of a mountain lion just yards from my exposed sleeping bag, my mind had to tell my body to react the safest way… fight, or flight, or freeze? While exploring new habitats, such as a coral reef and a tropical jungle, sharks circling my family and a jaguar growling at us both pierced my heart and gut with a surge of fear and adrenaline. While these instances were some of my most intense and powerful experiences in nature, they were by no means the most difficult to manage.
When my family first moved to Alabama, I was unfamiliar with the natural environment here. My neighbors kept warning me about the snakes. Familiar with rattlesnakes, I respect them and appreciate that they are kind enough to warn you when you tread too close. But between the unfamiliar and silent snakes, limited access to public recreation lands, and few friends to recreate outdoors with, it made adapting to our new home difficult at times. I felt trapped in the safety of our yard.
My soul ached for connections to nature. Then my husband bought us the Birds of Alabama book, and I learned to identify and appreciate the many species that pass through our yard. Over time, I developed my understanding of this new habitat, developed new friendships, and was again immersed in the natural areas around me. But it’s still the times when nature presents discomfort or a challenge that are some of my favorites… seeking shelter in a powerful thunderstorm, negotiating the strength of the waves on the ocean, and even viewing snakes (at a distance).
Grosbeak visiting the yard.
AMY
Raised in a rural community in the Midwest, I’ve been intimately familiar with and attuned to the natural world for as long as I can remember. From helping my grandparents tend their gardens, tagging along with neighbors to feed their animals, hearing farmers talk endlessly about the weather, or spending my free time playing in the woods, streams, and caves surrounding my home, I’ve internalized the significant, yet tenuous, connections we have with our planetary home.
It’s this sense of being at home with nature that has allowed me to find peace, reassurance, and courage regardless of where I might find myself living. While simply observing the natural world on walks through my neighborhood or from my office window helps restore me, nothing feels more like home than spending time near a creek. For me, there’s something incredibly soothing about watching the water roll by, witnessing the tadpoles, frogs, and fish go about their lives, observing the birds fluttering from tree to tree, and feeling the cool moss under my feet that reassures me all is well; not too unlike the feeling I get when I walk through my mother’s front door and feel her embrace.
That’s why, for as long as I can remember, I seek solace there when life has me feeling a bit confused, lost, or pensive. When sitting in nature, where life is stripped to its essence within the present, I find a clarity and calm that I can carry with me as I re-enter our modern world. It’s as though I “listen to the river sing sweet songs to rock my soul” and once soothed, I have the strength, patience, and energy to carry on both the living of life and trying to do my part to make the world a bit better of a place.
