Four walls and a roof. Most animals have their variations of this concept. A physical manifestation of functional protection, security from the unforgiving elements. And while I am 100% thankful for having a roof over my head, I can't help but long for the greatness of natural earth. Most of us go outside daily, but few of us concrete dwellers truly venture "outdoors." For many, there is a disconnect.

Like we've been separated from our mother at birth.

It's as if the concrete we walk upon is a buffer, separating us from the compounded experience of our ancestors.   

My infatuation with nature began as a child. I didn't choose it. I was born into it- via summer backpacking and camping trips with the family. Descending down a 1500 foot granite cliff to fish and swim in a glacial lake twas something I took for granted as a kid. I thought everyone had that experience. but the older I got, the more I realized most of my peers had no conception of "nature."

These days, every chance I get, I trek beyond the concrete jungle.  There's something exhilarating about leaving everyone you know and escaping to a place that resembles the world as it did before people got a chance to manipulate it. Whether in observation of endangered elk in Point Reyes, in awe of the countless sea lions of Half Moon Bay, in wonder of the lush green canopies of the coastal redwoods or in silence with the granite domes of the  high Sierras, it's here that I realize the term "sensory overload" is not synonymous with loud music, bright flashing neon colors, or a choreographed light display. The term is just as applicable to a slow sherbet sorbet-colored sunset, the soothing sound of the seascape's rising tides, or the vast haze of a Milky Way unimpeded by light pollution.

A weekend in natural surroundings is like a time spent with that best friend you don't live in the same city with; a visit highly anticipatory, grounding, familiar, and cathartic. Nature has the acute ability to slow time to a crawl and render any unpleasant thoughts obsolete in its presence.

All this said, the immense pull of modern life is extremely tough to resist. And during those work related stints where immersion in nature isn't an option, I try to lose myself in the rolodex memories I've built up over the years. FreshCoastin' on the Pacific Coast Highway, face in the breeze, free of any societal cares.

Cliche or not... This is what dreams are made of.

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Writer: Trackademicks //  Photograher: Donalrey 

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