Finding myself
As any advocate of shinrin-yoku will tell you, woodlands have a special magic. It is, of course, easy to dismiss things like forest bathing as quirky or eccentric, but when you feel the effects it can have on the body and mind, it isn’t so easy to discount it. And there is real science behind it too.
The Japanese are huge advocates of this practice, but you don’t have to do it in an organised way or even with other people. Many of us seek solace in nature. It is a way not only to reconnect with the natural world, or maybe disconnect from a busy one – the online world which can be so exhausting, time-consuming and addictive.
First impressions, grabbed with a mobile phone after the rain
If you go down to the woods today, in England at least, you won’t find any bears – as the children’s rhyme suggests – but it might just be the start of a surprise which you hadn’t anticipated. I discovered this for myself accidentally just recently.
There are times in our lives when we face difficulties, even crises. Changing something is a way to start dealing with these, although it’s not always easy.
My circumstances have changed. I no longer have a family around me or a family home as a sanctuary. The person I thought was my best friend is also no longer in my life. There’s more. It’s a long story, so I won’t bother you with it all. Needless to say these changes are hard and stressful.
These events didn’t all change quickly or suddenly, but in a way that made it harder. And it happened against a background of an excessive workload which left me precious little energy or time to think, let alone plan for a different future.
As I drove away from my home for the last time – the place where my Mum died and where the tree which is a memorial to a lost child lives – my mind was in a foggy whirl. I hadn’t even given a thought as to where I was going, just that I was leaving.
Tuning your eye into the little things and the changing light
The connection to my mother proved important. I headed south west to where she used to live and where I spent many of my school years. In Monty, my camper van, I arrived in the beech woods just up the road from my childhood home. These woods have a special place in my childhood memories.
In World War One, trenches were dug in this woodland for the troops to practice trench warfare, before going off to the front. At the age of 12 I didn’t fully comprehend this. All I knew was that they were a fabulous place for me and my friends to ride our bikes and test our abilities to stay on and upright
These woods are now protected by the Woodland Trust now. Perhaps they were then too. At 12, they were just there and a great place for adventures. You can only wonder what they’d be now if it wasn’t for organisations like this who conserve and preserve our natural environments and heritage, and in this case a little piece of history.
So I parked Monty, not knowing whether it would be for 5 minutes or much longer. Windows down, I just sat and listened. The rustle of the leaves, a distant dog bark and its owner calling it, magpies bickering… and is that a woodpecker sculping a tree trunk? I wanted more so I got out of Monty and perched on the trunk of a fallen tree. I don’t know how long I sat there for, but my overactive mind started to decompress.
Low directional sunlight makes the colours come alive
The beauty of beech woods linger through the year and even now, in late July, the foliage is still a vibrant green. In autumn they become an equally vibrant rusty terracotta colour. Even without leaves in mid-winter, it’s still a special place and dusted with snow it becomes Narnia.
Many people take trees, woodlands and forests for granted. They’re just there and they’re nice to walk in! Lately, though, we’ve started to understand the complexity of the world which trees create. Their interconnectivity, both with each other and the rest of nature, and their role in making this planet habitable. Ask an indigenous American or a rainforest dweller – this has never been lost to them. Respect for the environment is a cornerstone of their lives and an important medicine cabinet. We need to learn from them.
This is where the science comes in. Starting with petrichor. That’s the pleasant earthy smell in the woods, especially noticeable when it’s rained after a long dry spell. It’s released by the raindrops and is a combination of plant oils and geosmin, the product of a bacteria found in soil, some plants and fruits, and believe it or not, also in wine.
The interplay of light within the woodland captured in mindful moments
This ‘earthy scent’ is known to have an uplifting effect on human beings, probably tapping into innate responses from when we were hunter gatherers in search of water and sources of food. But I digress.
It may sound strange but as I sat there, it felt like the tension was draining out through my feet and evaporating into the scent-laden air with every breath. Time was detaching and becoming unimportant. Eventually, I have no idea when, I stood up and just walked, kicking the leaf-litter as I would have done as a young boy. And I walked and walked. Lost but starting to find myself.
Beauty in the simplest of things – a single twig
Over the next week I spent a lot of time in those woods. With each moment, minute, hour they changed me. How? Why? The obvious answers are the change of scene, the release of tension, the quiet and calm. And yes they are all factors, but the briefest of summer showers releasing the petrichor was also major player.
Besides being my profession, photography has for many years been my escape. When I’m low, creativity often escapes me, but these beech woods started to inspire me. So the camera came out and the desire to make something other than the ordinary woodland images sparked me.
For July, a surprising array of fungi
What approach would someone normally take to photographing woods? Wide angle lens? Mid-range zoom? Macro lens? Going for something different, I chose a 400mm lens. Counter-intuitive, perhaps, but it would challenge me and make me think.
The colours were mesmerising especially when back-lit. Mostly iridescent greens. So I decided to make these the focus of my photography. With a low sun to backlight them and a narrow depth of field – I would have used this anyway but low light in the woods made it essential – to throw backgrounds out of focus, it worked particularly well.
Playing with light and shadows
This lens would have been great for wildlife and there was plenty around in the woodland. It was mostly heard not seen though, and with so many dog walkers around, hiding during the daylight hours. Above the canopy I also heard the call of red kites. Late in the evening though, after dark, I could hear deer moving around and regular serenades by owls.
It’s really liberating doing photography with the sole purpose of just doing photography, just creating images. As a professional there is nearly always a commercial element to using a camera. It became a valuable part of my self-imposed therapy, regardless of whether the resulting images are any good. That you can judge for yourself. For me, that is not how I will assess these particular ones.
Finding myself in the woodlands through creative photography
My time in the woods helped me find a new perspective and certainly alleviated rather than just masked the pain. There were tearful moments, but all I had to do was wipe them away to see this beautiful and transformational place in all its natural glory, then breath it in.
All images © Chris Coe
Find out more about the Woodland Trust
Explore the life of trees – The Heartbeat of Trees by Peter Wohlleben on Audible
To understand the importance of trees and forests to the Earth’s survival – The Tree Line by Ben Lawrence on Audible
Read other features about Our Planet on Eye for the Light
