Nature connection
Being more ‘present’ in the great outdoors by getting the social media monkey off your back.

I spend a lot of time in the natural environment both through work and leisure time but being ‘present’ in nature is something I’ve thought about only recently. For me it’s more about trying to observe and understand it in order to make my time away more enjoyable. To achieve this there’s a number of things I always pay close attention to when I’m out there;
The shape and angle of the trees tell me everything I need to know about the direction of the prevailing wind. The vegetation underfoot tells me how much water the ground will retain if gets wet. The sky tells me how cold its likely to be. The state of the trail tells me how many people passed through here and how recently they left and the animal spore tells me what creatures are here now.
My personal rule on trips like this is don’t stop working until you have shelter fire and food with all your gear stowed.
But winter nights in Scotland are long, cold and dark and camped out deep in the forest or beside the trail with all of the above completed there’s a huge temptation to post some pictures of my shelter, the fire, any new bits of kit I’m using and, with all night in front of me, there always seems to be plenty of time to get the shots just right and craft some well chosen words to accompany them.
Then, while I’m waiting for the ping that tells me that someone, somewhere has liked what I’m doing I can scroll through twitter facebook and pinterest; Prepper Dan from Ohio, showcasing his new wood smoker, the marguerita that Linzi in Glasgow is drinking right now, someone damning Trump, a photo of a crumbling chateau, protein shakes, a clip of Shalita doing her abs workout…
And slowly my connection to where I am and what I’m doing will be eroded by a stream of information, none of which adds anything to the experience. The fact that I’m also contributing to it only makes it worse and from that moment, technically, I’m no longer alone either.
Last week, setting out for an overnighter I got a message on my phone telling me my data allowance for this billing period was used up. I was annoyed because I’d have to wait until I got home to post any of the pictures I took.
However, some time later, having pitched my tarp shelter, I watched the moon slowly rising above the dark treetops and filling the clearing with pale light and deep shadow. I had to admit that if I’d been tapping away at my phone I’d have missed it and a good deal else.
Listening to an owl in the nearby copse of birch trees. Watching the ghostly chalk stripe of a plane’s vapour trail high in the freezing air above me. The distant bark of a fox, warning me, and other males, that this is his piece of the forest.
An hour after moon rise it was actually brighter than it had been at dusk so I decided to follow one of the more established deer tracks. It curved its way into the trees and I could see where they’d nibbled the lower branches and chewed the bark of some of the saplings. The trail lead to a broad marshy clearing which I decided not to cross. Without my phone to distract me I’d enjoyed it all so much more
Later that night, finally driven into my shelter by the cold. I decided to write up this experience in my notebook using a candle lantern I’d made from a jam jar and it was then that I discovered another connection.
Jotting down my thoughts as they came, instead for immediate consumption in 140 characters, I was reminded of all the adventurers, travellers, soldiers and explorers of fact and fiction that I’d read about since I was a kid.
From Ernest Shackleton in his tent on the ice floes of the Antarctic to Forrest Gump writing his letters to Jenny from the Jungles of Vietnam there’s a connection to people who documented their time in the natural world in the exact way I was doing it. I felt like I was in good company. There was no pinging from my phone, no one to respond to, no distractions and somehow the sense of nature connection was the better for it.










