Last old man in the woods

Nature deficit disorder refers to the phrase coined by Richard Louv in his 2005 book Last Child in the Woods that human beings, especially children, are spending less time outdoors resulting in a wide range of behavioral problems. Wikipedia

This old man spent a good deal of time Saturday afternoon chasing after an energetic grandson at a local state park. It was good for both of us (and his grandmother) to be out enjoying a cool, windy afternoon climbing over rocks, roots, and fallen branches on a twisting, hilly dirt trail that led to a small waterfall.

I have long enjoyed giving both my children and grandchildren the opportunities to enjoy hiking, camping, and just playing in nature. Whether scuba diving with my daughter in Cozumel, hiking in Havaupai or Abel Tasman with my son, climbing Harney Peak or canoing Quetico with my eldest grandson, or exploring Effigy Mounds with his little brother, I believe our time outdoors was always a healthy thing. If my offspring retain (or regain) a love of being in nature, I will feel successful as a parental unit.

And while I fully subscribe to the benefits to children as outlined in Last Child in the Woods, I also think we adults benefit from getting outside and among trees and bugs and mud and such as well. Sleeping on the ground. Having a little dirt in your panacakes. More of us, especially those of us who spend an inordinate amount of time behind a computer screen, need to get out more into the elements and away from our phones and our iPads and our earbuds. Standing under a tree is good for the soul. It's good for the psyche. It's good for the bod.

When I retire in a few years, I hope to have good enough health to continue hiking and biking and snorkeling and other outdoor activities. None of these activities is horrendously expensive. I plan on week or month long hikes. I plan on cross state bicycle rides. I could even see spending a winter doing the pilgrimage of Camino de Santiago.

So, start now. Take a walk at lunch. Soon you will make noon hour a sacred time, a temporal space carved out for you. Take your kid to a state park. Ride a bike with a grandkids. I bet they will remember the time more than the expensive gadget you last gifted them.

Hope you have woods nearby.