When the dismal shades of winter paint the sky grey, to where the sun is all but blotted out, where the green of the living life lay dormant, ever sleeping, it is our lives that feel the burden of modern life most. For me, it’s part seasonal affective disorder, for lack of sunshine, but it’s also a deep seated sadness that sits heavy in my heart, for it was me that chose to stay cooped up indoors and away from the natural world. For there in the unspoiled wilderness am I free, at ease, decompressed and de-stressed, and reconnecting with where I was born from.
I tried forcing my way through the snow and into the woods, at least once a day, but I’ve failed as of late. I’ve cooped myself in, surrounded by a wall of books and a to-do list that never ends, and yet I feel the sadness of my spirit. I tried the specialty lamps that claim a cure from the winter blues, which improved the bottom line of my mood, and yet, still I feel a space, an empty and hungry place in my soul. So, the other day, when the snow melted and the temperature reached just above freezing, I packed a bag with some necessities, a tent, sleeping bag, blanket, and set off into the nearest forest.
I hiked for awhile, meditating as I walked, breathing in and relaxing my brain. I could feel the aches and pains and stresses work their way from my body with each inhalation. I took in the bare trees like skeletal fingers, I lapped up the fresh air and I let my soul breathe as well. I sat for a time, watching a family of squirrels chase each other in the trees, then after enough time, a sly orange fox revealed itself among the decaying leaves. He tramped off and out of sight before I started up again. A clearing soon offered itself up as a perfect little campsite, and I unpacked, clearing the ground first before setting up my tent. I layered my sleeping bag with a heavy farmhouse wool blanket and stashed my pack before setting out in search of firewood.
Something settled over me, or in me rather. Something powerful, something like belonging, as if this was the right place at the right time and that all was perfect. The trials and troubles of modern civilization can tax a person to the bone, and without meaningful time spent in nature, how can one reconnect? It’s so easy to lose your way in this fast-paced manic world we live in, and if you don’t take the time to slow down to appreciate the tiny things, the finer details, and the origins of life itself, then you can lose yourself in the madness, and you can lose track of what’s truly important. A lot of people lose track of reality and what’s truly real when being constantly surrounded by the city, and constantly bombarded by the schedule of the 9 to 5. It is the time I spend outdoors that heals me, that keeps me grounded, and sane.
I hiked for awhile, meditating as I walked, breathing in and relaxing my brain. I could feel the aches and pains and stresses work their way from my body with each inhalation. I took in the bare trees like skeletal fingers, I lapped up the fresh air and I let my soul breathe as well. I sat for a time, watching a family of squirrels chase each other in the trees, then after enough time, a sly orange fox revealed itself among the decaying leaves. He tramped off and out of sight before I started up again. A clearing soon offered itself up as a perfect little campsite, and I unpacked, clearing the ground first before setting up my tent. I layered my sleeping bag with a heavy farmhouse wool blanket and stashed my pack before setting out in search of firewood.
Something settled over me, or in me rather. Something powerful, something like belonging, as if this was the right place at the right time and that all was perfect. The trials and troubles of modern civilization can tax a person to the bone, and without meaningful time spent in nature, how can one reconnect? It’s so easy to lose your way in this fast-paced manic world we live in, and if you don’t take the time to slow down to appreciate the tiny things, the finer details, and the origins of life itself, then you can lose yourself in the madness, and you can lose track of what’s truly important. A lot of people lose track of reality and what’s truly real when being constantly surrounded by the city, and constantly bombarded by the schedule of the 9 to 5. It is the time I spend outdoors that heals me, that keeps me grounded, and sane.
In the above story, I feature the Farmhouse wool blanket by the fine folks of Woolly Mammoth Woolen Company, who specialize in a range of loom woven Marino wool blankets, as well as a range of weaved Merino wool blankets that are great for homes and exploring. Recently, I teamed up with Woolly Mammoth to try out their Farmhouse blanket, which has been a great asset for cold winter nights. The look and style of the Farmhouse checkered plaid is very attractive, much like a cozy flannel, but of course, it is much thicker, providing the user with a truly cozy experience. When you’re camping in cold weather, that cold tends to creep in and zap the life out of you, but when you’re layered, beneath a true wool blanket, your heat is trapped better than most other materials, helping you to outlast the cold and to survive. And sometimes they’ll make you sweat! I’m a big fan of Woolly Mammoth’s wool blankets, and will continue to use them for my cold weather adventures.
If you would like to find out more about Woolly Mammoth Woolen Company, click here.
Article written by Brandon Scott
(Top photo by user 141207866@N08 via Flickr)
If you would like to find out more about Woolly Mammoth Woolen Company, click here.
Article written by Brandon Scott
(Top photo by user 141207866@N08 via Flickr)
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