I really enjoy spring and summer. There’s something wonderful about the bursting forth of new life, the many shades of green, and the blooming flowers that turn so intently, yet gently to smile at the sun. Who can blame them after a long winter’s hibernation?

Green truly is my favourite colour. Growing up in Ireland, the Emerald Isle, may have left a greater imprint on my psyche than I imagined. Even now as I watch travel shows or movies that feature my homeland, there is something deep inside that calls out to me, an internal connection that can only come from deeply seeded memories of years gone by. Memories of times spent roaming among the purple heather on the Mountains of Mourne, walking along the shores of the Irish Sea and climbing the boulder sized rocks close to my grandparent’s home in the small fishing village of Annalong. Long days filled with picnics, swimming, sandcastle building and simply lazing at Tyrella Beach in County Down. And not to be forgotten, swimming lessons in the frigid waters of Pickie Pool in Bangor; the water was so cold it forced the breath out of my young lungs, propelling me to the safety and warmth of the edge of the pool where Mum crouched with a cup of hot cocoa. I just needed to reach her!

Green, as I sit writing this blog from my deck in Kelowna, BC, my eyes again get to feast on the many shades of green: cedar hedges, maple trees, manicured lawns, tree covered hills, grasses in patio containers, and of course herbs, ready and waiting to add an element of freshness to my morning smoothies (or to be eaten by my youngest grandkids before making it into the house).

I’m currently reading “The Heartbeat of Trees” by Peter Wohllenben. To be honest, it’s not the kind of book I traditionally read, but when you have grandkids who are committed to learning about and preserving our planet, they have a tendency to open your eyes and truly take in the beauty and creation around us. And to realise how much we need nature to live healthy lives.

Early in the book, the author speaks to how being in the forest, among those stately and life giving trees, can benefit our very health. He says:

“It’s a good idea to give your nose, palate, and gut a break every now and again by going out into the forest and spending a good long time there. Everything that flows over your senses when you are in the forest is exactly the kind of compound your body is made for. If you take along a snack of natural, minimally processed food without additives, then your time spent forest bathing will be even more beneficial.”

As you know, my blog, Probe and Ponder is all about travel and learning. Now, I don’t travel for the sole purpose of education, although that certainly is an amazing byproduct of travel. But I do want to be intentional about being aware of what’s around me, of utilizing my senses. What am I seeing, what am I hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling through touch?

Those who know me well will confirm that I can only fully see something when my sense of touch is involved (yes, even having to touch those sacred fresnos and statutes throughout Europe!). Needless to say, I was thrilled to read Wohllenben’s reflection on research regarding how touching helps us think. I get it!

So, as you head out on your travels this summer, let me share a suggestion from “The Heartbeat of Trees”.

“The next time you are walking outside, try touching a variety of objects. The feather lying by the side of the path is just waiting to be picked up. Even the slippery rock covered with algae offers unusual experiences of contact and motion.”   

In other words, experience the forest, the seaside, the mountains the way you did as a child. Or, perhaps, rather than getting frustrated with the slow, exploratory ways the little ones in your life go for a walk, take a moment to look at the tiny bug walking along the sidewalk, explore the many beautiful shells strewn across the beach, stop and smell the wildflowers on the mountain side, help them gather the ‘nature’ they encounter along the way and bask in the moment shared with those who have not yet lost their sense of wonder.