In the midst of, or perhaps to stave off, sudden emotional turmoil, I did what I often do to gather, collect, and find myself: I headed out into nature.

I had just wrapped my arms around a tree when a phone call came, one I had been expecting. I answered, telling the caller which bridge I’d just crossed and added that I was currently hugging a tree.

“He’s sleeping and will probably not hug you back,” came the reply.

“That’s okay,” I said. I love that trees are living creatures with rhythms.

We set a meeting time and location and the call ended. I gave the tree one more gentle touch and walked away.

The next time out in nature that day, I was calmer, quieter in body though not quite in mind. We walked for hours and, among the sleeping trees, I began to feel better.

It was not lost on me that the fact that I’d been out hugging trees was treated as the most normal thing to do. The recognition warmed my heart and settled my mind, and by the time the walk ended, I was home.