Sports never particularly interested me as a kid. When prompted to go outside, I’d make up some excuse, not unlike my dog, who just hides under the bed. Part of it was my intense allergies that were aggravated by the Florida sun, but also an unwillingness to take part in the public humiliation rituals that were team sports. As a result, I got winded running the mile and loathed exercise. One thing that I could do, however, was walk. The nature of my hometown was, at times, the only thing I appreciated about it, and so I began to seek out that enjoyment. What started as pleasant walks became a profound love for hiking, despite the inherent flatness of my state, the thrill of finishing a difficult trail, or sitting on a stump with a notebook and pen atop a beautiful view, because inspiration struck just then, and those feelings are like no other. In hikes down to Hidden Lake in Montana and searches for urban folklore in New Hampshire with Outdoor Pursuits, reconnecting with nature has helped me find myself among the modern noise. Still, most adolescents don’t seem to find that enjoyment in being silently alone with nature— instead, they opt for activities on trimmed fields and hard courts. If we don’t take a leap in winding trails and star-filled nights, what is it that we’re losing?
An aspiring artist quite often runs into a recurring roadblock: a lack of inspiration. When we fall into routines, as the new term settles in, we struggle to find interesting things to incorporate into brush strokes or musical notes. We spend time searching for inspiration, for things that are outside of the mundane, trying to coalesce one-off phrases or metaphors into a thematic work. When I feel lost about the direction of my creative work at times, campus walks have offered me much to draw from. It doesn’t simply seem to be extravagant trips in the Whites or at Cotopaxi that help me put the pen to paper, but even night walks on Abbot Campus never leave me empty-handed. A cozy, yellow-lit bedroom atmosphere certainly can get the creativity going, but it is also routine, unlike experiencing unexpected bites of cold air and observing tacky spring decor on homes in town far. Though I’ve equally written what I’d call successful pieces in my room, there’s somewhat of a breath of inspiration that comes from being outside.
When you reach the summit of a trail that took numerous water breaks, de-layering, and leg cramps, it’s not the homework waiting in your backpack in the car that comes to mind. It’s not how worn out you feel, how cold it is outside, or the lack of cellular data on your phone. Even a mustard and provolone sandwich tastes perfect when you’re looking out at the mountains and skyline. Perhaps it’s called “Type-B” fun, but there’s also fun in moments when you’re tired and at full energy. In those moments, there’s still never a hurry for “what’s next” because everyone builds their own journey in nature. Moreso, the beauty of hiking and absorbing the sun is in the disconnect from the bubbling world, where we’re always optimizing productivity or working on some application. It doesn’t need to be backpacking through the Appalachians either: it could also entail biking through the woods, hide and seek, or cross-country skiing on the soccer fields in winter. The Andover community is largely students from sprawling urban areas, and the nature on campus is something new to take advantage of. What we take away from our adventures outdoors is the freedom that comes from seeing your breath vaporize in the cold and the satisfaction after an 8-mile day. That adventure is exactly what we’ve lost in the days when we roam only the places we know and keep to our laptops.
There’s magic in moments spent roaming the Sanctuary with a friend; words aren’t always shared, but looking up at the stars speaks volumes enough. Solace is found in listening to music on an early Saturday morning walk downtown, when the town is still lulled to sleep. The outdoors is all around us, in the calm paths we can choose to take, or that Outdoor Pursuits trip where your cabinmates turned into close friends. But all of the benefits of the trees, the sun, and the flowers are slipping from us as we continue to stick to our tasks and our beloved inside time. Seek out those moments chasing friends on the lawn, sharing a bike built for one, and catching inspiration on the dorm’s front stoop. Sometimes, watching the sunset in silence on a Friday afternoon is all the reminder we need that things do get better. So hurry up and open the door—the outdoors is calling after all.
