vashon island Archives «

Forest Bathing

September 8, 2020September 10, 2020
by Ashley Gossens

I laid on my back and let the rain drops hit my face. I watched tiny orbs of mist swirl in the air above and gather on leaves until gravity took over and they fell through the sky and ran down my face like tears. Tiny droplets clung to my eyelashes in defiance, they weren’t ready to join the others in their inevitable journey to the ground. I didn’t wipe them away. They created a lens through which my eyes followed the lines of branches of the hardwoods through the green and yellow leaves searching for patterns and fractals and recognition among them, reminding me of the forests I explored as a child.

It was a cool November day and I wasn’t alone there lying in that forest, my book club friends were there too. We were spending the weekend at Laura’s family’s property on Vashon Island, a lovely site with a beach, whimsical cabins hidden away, and an impressive grove of ancient big leaf maples. It was the perfect setting for a day of forest bathing.

We arrived to Vashon Island a day earlier and explored the little town of Vashon. We had a delicious brunch at The Hardware Store, a (you guessed it) hardware store turned restaurant, and couldn’t help but browse the Vashon Bookshop and the Herban Bloom flower shop. But as charming as the town was, we were ready to get our nature fix and headed to the property.

We all know how good being in nature can make us feel. We have known it for millennia. The sounds of the forest, the scent of the trees, the sunlight playing through the leaves, the fresh, clean air – these things give us a sense of comfort. They ease our stress and worry, help us to relax and to think more clearly. Being in nature can restore our mood, give us back our energy and vitality, refresh and rejuvenate us.“
Dr. Qing Li, Forest Bathing

A short trail led us down to the beach were we spent the rest of the evening exploring. We found deer bones in the creek draining to the shore and sand dollars, limpets, tiny snails, and seaweed. We hovered near to each other in silent awe as we watched one of the most beautiful sunsets. The water lapped on the shore and I felt a sense of calm settle in.

We ambled up in a light sprinkle to our little home for the night dubbed the “Pink Palace” due to the hue of its concrete construction. Laura indulged us with lentil soup for dinner along with homemade cider and mulled wine. We warmed by the wood stove while we shared stories and played games by candle light. We bunked up and read ourselves to sleep.

The next morning, after breakfast pastries from Snapdragon Bakery, we prepared for a day of forest bathing. It was raining so we took our time. Rebecca got out her watercolors and painted. Others read the book and I made a plan:

Listen: rain, breeze, water

Look: greens, fractals, patterns

Feel: bare feet, lay on the ground

Taste: fresh air, dirt

Smell: essential oils, dirt, plants

We left our cameras and phones behind and found an open spot in the nearby forest. I read a bit of the “How to Practice Shinrin-Yoku” chapter of the book to get us started. Then it was time for silence and exploration. There was no trail, no destination, no time line, just immersion in the moment and nature around us.

After laying on the ground with raindrops on my face, I got up to wander. I found slugs of many sizes, teeny tiny slugs that I’ve never noticed before, large ones resembling bananas, and medium sized ones with the most intricate patterns and “legs” that looked like delicate eyelashes. The more I looked, the more I found. Tiny mushrooms glissaded down a tree stump, licorice ferns emerged from the huge maples and skeletons of leaves were traced in lacy fractal patterns.

I wish we had better words to describe what we see, like the Japanese word komorebi – sunlight filtering through trees.

I pulled a licorice fern from the moss, wiped the dirt away from the roots and sniffed it. I bit into it just enough to find the taste of anise and loamy earth I was looking for. I picked some soaked sorrel, nibbled on them, and let the spice linger on my tongue while I walked barefoot through a blanket of wet leaves.

I walked along a small brook and listened to the water on its journey to the shore. I found a tree root crossing the water to a cedar tree. I climbed over and sat beneath the branches that were so big they almost touched the ground. I felt so cozy and comforted in this spot. I sniffed at the bark, searching for its essence, but only later got a whiff when doing a little sun salutation. Its like the smell is not of the tree itself, but rather of the tree and all of its surroundings here and now in just the right combination.

I sat for a while under the tree listening. The light rain like the Japanese word shito shito and kasa kasa, leaves rustling underfoot. I pondered a while about a question Dr. Li poses in the book, if there was one natural sound you could preserve forever, what would it be? I could have stayed there under that tree forever and pondered such things. But eventually the trance must be broken.

Laura called us over to the beach to watch a rainbow, yes a rainbow, across the water. We sipped hot tea and ate scones and chatted about what we observed and how we felt. We exchanged our little bottles of essential oils as if the whole experience could be bottled up which felt a little silly. I felt a lightness that lingered for many days and if I close my eyes and focus on each sense, I can grasp just a bit of that lightness again.

Shinrin-yoku is like a bridge. By opening our senses, it bridges the gap between us and the natural world.
Dr. Qing Li, Forest Bathing

Forest Bathing

by Dr. Qing Li

Forest bathing, or shinrin-yoku, was developed in Japan as a way to reduce anxiety, stress and blood pressure, strengthen the immune system, and improve cardiovascular function in the body. Dr. Qing Li is a doctor and chairman of the Japanese Society for forest medicine. He does a fantastic job of explaining the science as well as the steps to take to receive the benefits of the forest on the body. Forest bathing is an accessible way to connect with nature, even in the city or in the home and this book is essential to learn this important practice.

Non-Fiction // Published: 2018 // My Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Buy on Amazon

Buy on Bookshop

Book Ends

Read :: A beautiful poem by my friend Rebecca inspired by our outing

Watch :: Forest Bathing, A Simple Yet Powerful Nature Meditation

Try :: Take the POMS test before and after forest bathing to see how your mood is elevated

Go :: Best Places in the US to Try Forest Bathing

Book Club Archive

1 year ago: Mushroom Hunting (The Mushroom Hunters w/ Langdon Cook)

*This post contains affiliate links. However, I always encourage finding books at your local library or favorite indie book store.

Outdoor Life

Fall Harvest

November 9, 2017June 1, 2020
by Ashley Gossens

One thing I didn’t anticipate after having a baby is just how homesick I would be. Fall has a way of making me especially conscious of this. I crave homemade meals, the scent of decaying leaves, cobalt blue skies, and football games. But most of all, I crave family.

I miss getting together with aunts and uncles and cousins, eating delicious food and laughing until I almost pee my pants. I miss inevitably listening to the stories I’ve heard a million times, as familiar and exciting as a favorite song coming on the radio. There is an ease and comfort that wraps me up like a warm blanket and fills me up like chicken pot pie.

Since my husband and I moved to Seattle over a decade ago, we’ve grown our own little family. First with a dog, then a baby, but mostly with our friends. I do feel a deep connection to the Northwest and over the years our friendships have grown into family. I am eternally grateful for this and feel very lucky.

Here in the PNW, I feel my short thin roots reaching down and spreading but they are still searching for nourishment, grasping to take hold. Back on the east coast, I stand firm. My thick healthy roots spread far and deep. I need to nourish my Northwest roots. And so, with the help of a good friend, I did just that.

When my pal Laura offered to share her elderberry picking spots with me, I jumped at the chance. We headed east to Leavenworth in the late September smoky haze. Laura showed me where she went to camp growing up and where she and her dad would look for elderberries. We found some in her usual spots and then saw a jackpot of a bush along the road in someone’s property. The owners were outside and gave us their blessing to go pick all we wanted. We got bags and bags full.

I knew that the blue elderberries are poisonous to eat when raw, so I asked Laura what to do with them. She explained to boil them and put them through a sieve to get the juice. She gave me a tip that proved invaluable- freeze the berries on the the stems before you pick them all off. It worked brilliantly. She also gave me her dad’s recipe for elderberry jam and it is so delicious.

Sure, I could’ve researched online where and how to pick elderberries, but it is so much more enjoyable to get this information passed on from friends and family. These are the things that make roots grow. I kept telling Laura all day, I totally feel like a local now!

In October, Laura invited me to Vashon Island to pick apples and make cider with her husband’s extended family. They have deep roots on the island and I got to listen to the catching up, the familiar stories, and eat the delicious food.

No one here will ever replace my own family of course, but I so appreciate getting just some of that comfort and warmth I’ve been craving. And the harvest; the jam and cider, tastes that much better.

The Fish Ladder by Katharine Norbury
Norbury, who was adopted after being left as an infant at a convent, takes her daughter, Evie, along the banks of Welsh rivers to trace them to their source. Not knowing where her true roots lie, she seeks peace and familiarity, ultimately searching for a beginning and a sense of belonging. This book, filled with gorgeous descriptions, unpronounceably delightful Welsh locations, history, and fairy tales, quickly became a favorite of mine. It is truly the most beautiful book I’ve read in awhile.

Save