For cleansing the mind, heading afield alone is the perfect remedy

I always find solitude when hunting, my great escape from the non-stop expectations and interruptions of modern life. The deeper the woods, the deeper the thoughts, and there’s humble satisfaction in getting lost in both. “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately.” So wrote famed philosopher Henry David Thoreau in his book Walden, recounting his two years of seeking to live closer to nature. More than 170 years later, his words remain relevant for those of us striving to spend more time soul-searching in the great outdoors. And for me, that means hunting on my own.

My deer-hunting season is my three-month commitment to solo sitting, hours of peaceful bathing in nature, either perched high in a treestand or grounded by a moss-covered stump. This is where I make time for my relationship with the natural world, and with a rifle across my lap or bow in hand, it gets my undivided attention. Time stands still when I’m watching for birds overhead or over-analyzing every rustle coming from the forest floor.

Quality me-time in the woods opens the mental vault, especially on matters that need more time for self-reflection than a busy life can otherwise afford. Such important thoughts deserve an outdoor point of view to sort them out. And when I’m alone in the woods, my mind plays highlight reels of key people in my life, such as my grandfather, who served in the Second World War and also put his time in the deer woods. I think of my dad, too, and everything I learned from him.

When my sons Charlie and Jack are also on their stands, the warmth of the rising sun on my back matches the warmth in my heart when I think about the experiences they’re collecting from their own solitary deer watches. And later when we return home, I look forward to sharing our observations, all made in the quiet confidence of hunting alone.