Noticing: How To Take A Walk In The Woods : 13.7: Cosmos And Culture Refining our capacity to notice is an act of reverence that we can bring to everywhere and everywhen. It's an invitation, bringing the world's most basic presence into view, opening our horizons and restoring our spirits.

Noticing: How To Take A Walk In The Woods

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From NPR News, this is ALL THINGS CONSIDERED. I'm Robert Siegel.


And I'm Audie Cornish. Time now for some life advice from our resident physicist Adam Frank. Make friends with science, he says, and it will transform the ordinary, even the smallest of things, into the extraordinary. And Frank insists there's no better way to start that relationship than with a walk in the woods.

ADAM FRANK, BYLINE: I get it. I get it. Who has time? And really, where are the woods, anyway? It was Joseph Campbell, the great scholar of religion, who hit the core of our problem when he wrote: People say that all we're all seeking is a meaning for life. He continues: I don't think that's what we're really seeking. I think what we're seeking is an experience of being alive. Fine. But how can we experience being alive in the midst of the crushing urgencies that make up modern life? Well, it might seem strange, but one answer to that question is science, at least science with a lowercase s.

Science, you see, is all about noticing, and here's the good news. You don't need a particle accelerator or a well-equipped genetics lab in your basement to practice noticing. That would be science with a capital S. And you already are a scientist. You have been since you were a kid. That's because all kids do is notice. The to-do lists and world peace haven't taken yet over our brains. This is where a walk in the woods comes in handy. There, you can get away from it all, clear your head, smell the fresh air.

The problem, of course, is that even if we get ourselves into a park or a forest, we might be so lost in our heads that we miss what's right in front of us. Learning to take notice like a scientist grounds you in your surroundings. One trick is to count things. Scientists love to count stuff. How many trees are there on the sides of a steep hill compared with its crest? How many leaves are there on the stalks of the blue flower compared to the yellow one? How many different kinds of birdsong do you hear when you stop and listen?

Other things scientists love: shapes, colors, patterns. Do the big cattails have the same color as the small ones? Get your naturalist on and bring a notebook. Pretend you're Henry David Thoreau. Jot down your findings, make little drawings and always, always ask yourself those basic questions: why, how, when? Noticing is not a passive activity. Hoist yourself up into a tree. It's a great way to notice the tree and the branches and the roots. Sure, most of us won't be emulating John Muir riding out a Yosemite thunderstorm in the crest of a wildly swaying tree.

Still, we might climb a few low-hanging branches, forcing ourselves into questions like: How does a big limb give way to narrow branches? Or exactly where on the branch do the leaves start to grow? And, of course, how the hell do I get down from here? Refining our capacity to notice is an act of reverence that can stay with you even when you leave the woods, you know, behind the wheel of the car, washing the dishes, getting your kids ready for bed.

Being present for whatever happens when it's happening, that's the point. Because the startling spring green of those leaves today will be something different the next time you take a walk in the woods if you notice.

CORNISH: NPR blogger and physicist Adam Frank, all this year, he's exploring new ways of appreciating the science in our everyday lives.

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