I can only understand a place by walking it. When traveling I’ve got to get out of the car and strike out across open land, feel the ground under my feet and see what plants brush my legs, hear the birds or wind in the trees or the hiss of shifting sand, and I’ve learned more about the place than I ever could with just my eyes. As a species we’ve evolved to travel, and travel we have–from the savannah of East Africa to the Fertile Crescent, over snowy mountains and through swamps and jungles. We’ve discovered the world through the soles of our feet and to rediscover it we need only do the same thing: walk.
The kids understand this innately. CH explored Scotland on foot and, closer to home, Number Two can follow his nose like the best beagle.
I suppose I don’t take them out enough, give them the freedom to explore that I had as a kid. I spent entire days on foot in the forest with my brother and either there wasn’t as much concern for security then or my parents figured we could fend for ourselves, with our homemade crossbows and Buck knives. Now as an adult I feel refreshed and invigorated by walking in unexplored countryside. The pull of what’s around the next bend, over the next crest, it keeps me alive.
One time in my twenties I decided to pack a backpack with water, a chocolate bar, some nuts, and just head out in the direction that seemed most interesting. In suburban Maryland there are green stripes of wild land underneath power transmission lines, defining long paths to the open country right through residential areas and past shopping malls. You can walk in almost undisturbed wild land until you reach farmland. That’s what I did, covering mile after mile until my feet hurt. Following your instinct and just walking is to practice the most human of traits: exploration. It’s what we do, to read the landscape and natural world in search of safe and beautiful and healthy places.
Go search them out.
Writer, architect, father, husband.