NAI Blog

After the NAI workshop in Hartford, I took a few days to visit family and friends living in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. One afternoon I had a chance to go for a walk in those wintery New England woods with bare trees and crisp air—and that all-too-elusive solitude that is so refreshing. There is something uniquely relaxing in immersing yourself in nature during this time of dormancy. Nature is resting at the end of a busy year, and that restful state just seeps into you.

I used to delight in grabbing cross-country skis, or binoculars, or a favorite steelhead rod and heading out into the woods, wetlands or to a secluded stretch of stream for a little of that winter solitude. I know it’s not wise to wander off into the outdoors alone-but I was never alone. There was always a gray squirrel, a junco, a coyote to keep me company. Moreover, there’s a lot to be said for the company of one’s self. Those hours of winter solitude were the occasions of enlightening internal conversations, sorting out dilemmas and challenges, gathering one’s thoughts to help make sense of the realities that awaited.

As a teenager, my father ran trap lines in the Maine woods in the early 1920s. I asked him what that experience was like. His immediate response was “COLD!” But then he also said it was an excuse to go for a long walk in the woods every day and get to know the winter wildlife intimately. Then he’d be quiet for a minute, and I could tell he was re-living some of those memories for a moment. I have a hunch those days in the woods helped him get to know himself more intimately as well.

As an interpreter, I have to remind myself that my audience may crave some of that solitude as well. In fact, our audience research has turned up a category of visitors that we call “spiritual pilgrims,” people that seek individual, reflective, contemplative experiences with nature. The best opportunity we can provide the spiritual pilgrims is to point them toward places where they can find solitude—and then leave them alone to enjoy a very personal, individual experience. I’ll admit, it’s really hard to refrain from pointing out a few animals, telling some stories, striking up a conversation. Interpretation through silence is a rarified form of the art we practice.

While those spiritual pilgrims may not participate in interpretive programs or interact with us very often, they may be some of our most ardent fans. This group often comes already equipped with a deep emotional connection with the resource we interpret. They have an appreciation for the resource and may be very active supporters and protectors of that resource. We need to maintain a relationship with this visitor audience, but also give them space to connect in their own way.

I hope that in this winter season you are wrapped in the warmth of friends, family, home and hearth. However, I hope you also have an opportunity to leave those things behind for brief spells and experience some of that precious winter solitude.