The Wonders of Nature
Finding inspiration—and peace—in the world around us
A HALF-REMEMBERED LINE ABOUT THE OCEAN comes to mind every time I go to the coast: “My soul rushes out to meet the horizon.” Although it resonated when I read it, I cannot for the life of me remember the book, author or even if I recall it accurately. Just that one little snippet floats into my head as soon as the breeze reveals the smell of salty air.
Still, it’s the most accurate description I’ve come across of how the ocean makes me feel, even if I’ve somewhat mangled it. For a long time, I would describe the sensation as if something were loosening in my chest, this subtle knot beneath my ribs I didn’t even realize I was carrying around until its sudden absence. It’s a feeling of lightness upon seeing a horizon I’ll never reach, offering endless freedom of movement, no barriers, nothing penning me in, inviting me out and out and out.
More than one person has told me this is exactly why the ocean frightens them—feeling insignificant in the face of unending water, a vast nothingness that will swallow you up. I get it. You won’t catch me taking in the view from anything even remotely resembling a cliff. The line between terrifying and awesome, in its true sense (to inspire awe), can be thin.
Growing up in a coastal town and spending summers exploring the islands and harbors of Maine with my family has irreversibly entwined the ocean with childhood nostalgia. I spent nights falling asleep to the lap of waves on the hull, and days with my dad at the helm, the place I always felt safest in the world. To me, it’s familiar and comforting, something that will forever feel like a part of home.
Connection to nature is important. Whatever it is you love most—oceans, lakes, mountains, forests—most of us find some feeling of peace when we venture outside.
One of the people instrumental in creating the national parks, John Muir, once said, “Keep close to Nature’s heart, and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”
We can’t all live on a mountaintop or on a boat in the ocean, but here in New Hampshire, Granite Staters are familiar with the restorative power of nature and understand the need to preserve it. The homeowners in this issue took special care to lessen their environmental impact, and each invites the outdoors in, taking full advantage of the natural world around them. They are all fortunate to have what brings them peace just steps away.
“When inside, it feels like we’re outside.
I can be in a snowstorm, but I’m not out in the snow,” says Julia Byers in the feature story “A Little Piece of Heaven” starting on page 78. The stunning windows of this remarkable home seemingly offer no barrier to the forest and lake beyond.
“We can see the lake from all the rooms in the house, and we can see everything grow” Byers continues. “The way the light comes in, it can seem like we’re in a treehouse. We’re surrounded by nature but also the house’s beautiful cedar wood walls, all so soft, calming and cozy.”
If you’re now thinking that sleeping in a treehouse sounds like the right idea, don’t miss the story on an actual treehouse (page 48). This charming luxury getaway spot on Lake Sunapee is available to rent, and offers all the benefits of camping without forgoing the finer comforts.
The theme of this issue is incorporating nature into homes, but I also hope it inspires you to leave your house behind and explore whatever part of our beautiful state speaks to you the most. And if you happen to know the name of the book I may or may not be misquoting, you can find me on the beach.
