What's the purpose?

If, right this moment, I could be anywhere in the world, I might choose to be in a national park in an exotic country. But I’m at home, in front of my computer. And I just got back from taking a walk in my neighborhood.

My route is largely the same every time I do it, and I try to walk it at least every other day. Someone I regularly see on these walks asked me once why I don’t choose a different path. “I would be so bored,” she said.

Part of it is a practical matter. My route has a nice long flat stretch bookended by steep inclines. It’s great training for when I’m hiking in the wilderness. But the other part is philosophy: something is only boring if you let it be boring.

Repetition has allowed me to get to know a bit about the people who live in the neighborhood. If you see someone repeatedly, you’re more inclined to talk to them and to want to buy a Christmas present for their adorable dog.

But repetition has also allowed me to learn so much more about the environment that surrounds my home. I now know the sapsucker that raises a family in the elm tree in my yard in the summer spends part of the winter in a tree about a half-mile away. It moves when a great-horned owl shows up and returns when the owl leaves. I can note how quickly the decorative flowers grow and blossom in a particularly well-manicured yard. I can ponder the lifespan of trees as I watch old ones decay along the part of my route that runs along a greenbelt.

I live in a vibrant region. Any given day I could drive a half hour to a place where something is almost guaranteed to show off. However, more and more, I’m simply enjoying it here. In addition to working my legs and lungs, these walks teach humility, patience, and gratitude.

I don’t expect a life-changing experience every time I set out. Nothing is expected to perform for me. The neighborhood just gets to be. And I just get to be in it. I walk without needing to see something spectacular, without knowing when something worthwhile will appear. And I am thankful for when the outcome of a particular walk has been more than exercise.

What is the point of our time in nature? With nature photography we often venture out with our eyes on the prize — a spectacular photo — and are disappointed when we are not awarded one. But I am coming to appreciate the lack of pressure that results from venturing into nature without the burden of expectations. What seems to be a lack of purpose is actually a much grander purpose — forcing meaningful connections. And that’s when you get unexpectedly striking results.

Kevin’s new book, Five Minutes in Nature, collects images and stories about his experiences in the wilderness, curated to help you have deeper encounters of your own. Preview and order it here. Prints of his images are available through LivingWilderness.com. Learn about new work by joining his mailing list.)