Michigan Forest Life - June 18, 2025

Greetings Friends,

The cuckoo in the corner of the Treehouse just completed its fifth chirp - 5:00 am. I sit on a

porch high above the ground with white pine branches above and below.

A gentle breeze touches my face and bare feet. I feel it on the back of my hands. Pine scent drifts through the air and I remember the thick blanket of pollen swept from every surface yesterday. Dust. An olive-green powder. It covered the porch, the railings, the grill, the chairs, the window sills, the door handle. Every treehouse surface was covered in pollen. Though there is too much other green around to notice, every part of the forest below is also covered in pine pollen. The wind so thoroughly casts out pine pollen dust at this time of year that pollen makes its connection without the assistance of insects.

Morning is coming. Birds all around sing enthusiastically to the forest. I imagine they debate a

painting that is appearing on the eastern horizon (Photo 1).

"The sky is such a lovely purple this morning," Phoebe chirps.

"You know that is pink, not purple," Cardinal responds. "Well, maybe it is turning into purple...just a little."

"Both of you are missing the fact that most of the sky is gray right now. Come over to this branch and have a look." Junco lifts its wing toward the eastern sky. "I might concede a hint of blue in that gray."

A crow calls from the top of the tallest pine, "None of you can see the orange that is coming. Just wait a bit. Not a chirp of your argument will matter. It is all changing. I see a better color coming. Get ready."

"Right," a second crow calls from another far-off pine. "Caw. Caw...Get ready!"

All the birds sing happily as the sky changes. And then, the colorful sunrise evaporates into a light gray morning sky.

I go back inside the Treehouse. Every window is open. Forest air drifts through. The Treehouse is part of the forest. A light rain sprinkles on the metal roof. Where did that come from?

Some might say I am practicing the art of forest bathing, what Japanese call shinrin-yoku.

Immersing oneself in the calming, sensory experience of the forest and letting the natural power of trees engage with pathways that link the body and mind. For me, this is something that happens naturally, automatically. Perhaps it is what subconsciously draws me to the wilds.

People now study the benefits of the forest experience in a scientific way. Shinrin-yoku. But

science is only validation. Engaging with nature, particularly the forest, is something your body may naturally tell you to do. You only need to listen. The benefits may be subtle at first but they are there.

Step into the forest for an hour (Photo 2). Do it calmly. Quietly. Listen. Look. Smell. Let your

senses guide you. What will you see that inspires wonder? Perhaps an unusual fungi (Photo 3, 4). Maybe a large nest (Photo 5). Perhaps an unexpected animal.

Disconnect from your electronic tether and let nature take over.

I wish you the drumming of rain on a forest shelter roof, pine pollen thick enough to write your

name with your finger, and a sunrise serenade.

Until next time,

Dan