There was a small rock on the path in front of me as I traipsed around the back of Hurst. I aimed a kick at it. My foot caught the concrete, taking the weight out of my kick. The rock connected with the inside of my shoe and it rolled lamely under a car to my left. Annoyance snaked through my mind and I chided myself. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I strode on.
A cool breeze drifted over me as I approached the trees. The sun glittered down through the thinning foliage on what was an unusually warm October afternoon. The smell of earth hung in the air. I could see pockets of blue in between the green, glowing green, illuminated by sunlight. The occasional tweet of a bird in between the faint hum of insects interrupted the sound of woodland silence. I slowed my pace to try and take in my surroundings, hoping that that would help to relieve myself of the funk I’d been feeling that day. Brown leaves cascaded down to the ground, one floated down right in front of me and I caught it out of the air. I crunched it up and felt it disintegrate in my hand. I looked up at the leaves, still mostly green, hanging from the treetops way above my head. The remains of the crunched-up leaf in my hand fell away in the breeze. A daunting sense of inferiority swept over me. In comparison to the towering height of the trees, their age and size dwarfing mine, my own life felt miniscule and bug-like.
The quiet suddenly became loud. It filled my ears and my thoughts grew noisy. An internal resistance rejected the stillness around me. I closed my eyes and inhaled. The coolness of the air passed through my nostrils. I inhaled again and felt my chest heave. Once more, I took a slow deep breath. My shoulders relaxed. Another breath, and my hands unclenched as I let the air out through my mouth. My brow unfurrowed, and the quiet felt quiet once again. As I opened my eyes, the helplessness I had felt staring up at the height of the trees felt somewhat reassuring. The relatively minute scope of my stress, in spite of the profound grip it had had on me, was comforting. The metallic ding of a baseball bat followed by a lawnmower, and then a car engine, brought me back to where I really was. The stillness of the Forest no longer seemed intimidating, but tranquil.
The stillness that can be found in the Forest is a rarity on a campus like Drew’s. Such a small student body helps to foster activity and a sense of community, but there are days when we all feel like we need a quick escape from the movement and social proximity that Drew creates without having to stray too far from campus. The Forest is one of the only, if not the only, places removed enough from the stimulants of campus life that I feel I can go to to recharge and clear my head. Being among the greenery, among the sounds and smells of nature, helps to quell any stress and anxiety I may be experiencing. Knowing that by taking a short walk through the Forest I can find the solitude I need to remedy a foul mood gives me indispensable comfort on a bad day.
For students such as myself, the Forest can also serve as a home away from home. Drew has a significant portion of students who hail from locations far and wide, and as someone who spent their life outside of the Northeast, I can attest that adapting to an unfamiliar location is no easy task. However, the comforts of nature are universal and when seeking somewhere and something familiar in an unfamiliar place, the Forest is a welcome retreat.
Drew University would not be the same without the Forest. We are the University in the Forest, and any student will tell you that the natural beauty of campus is one of Drew’s most defining features. One thing that I will miss the most after I have graduated will be seeing the leaves undergo their color changes in the fall, and watching them slowly bloom back to life in the spring. The Forest has been a refuge for me, and I believe its therapeutic qualities are a necessary aid to the health of the students who live here. The University would not be the same without it.
Adam Smith is a senior majoring in media and communications and minoring in Spanish and political science.
