Bathing in nature
More and more research is pointing to time in nature being good for us. Why is that? Not sure, but Catherine Knight has some really interesting theories.
Like many of us these days, Catherine Knight often works from home. When she does and she feels like a break, it’s a short walk to a riverside track through replanted native bush and a remnant stand of kohekohe. Birdsong filters through the silence.
“Everyone should have a place nearby like that,” she says.
The observation is both personal and professional. Dr Catherine Knight is a Senior Associate at the Institute for Governance and Policy Studies, Victoria University of Wellington, and Honorary Research Associate at the School of People, Environment and Planning, Massey University.
In her book Nature and Wellbeing in Aotearoa New Zealand: Exploring the connection, Catherine argues for the restoration of “neighbourhood nature” – places that all New Zealanders can freely access, irrespective of socioeconomic or other factors. Places like her riverside track.
More and more research is pointing to time in nature being good for us. Did you know trees give off antimicrobial volatile organic compounds called phytoncides, and studies suggest that breathing in these compounds has beneficial effects for our bodies?
In Japan, forest bathing (shinrin-yoku) has long been a health practice, being added to the national health programme in 1982. And just like sushi and karaoke, it has caught on the world over.
Catherine feels our experience of pandemic lockdowns has increased awareness of the connection between nature and wellness. Stuck at home, people had more time to just breathe and to enjoy their neighbourhood green spaces.
Or not. Because this also highlighted the inequities around access to that experience.
“We shouldn’t have to get into a car and drive for several hours to be able to get to a national park or whatever to enjoy nature. We need green spaces within walking distance of where we live,” Catherine says.
“We like to think of ourserlves as a nation of outdoors people. But there’s a whole swathe of New Zealanders who have never been camping, never been on a day hike – we need to be careful about making generalisations.”
Lessening the distance between people and nature is the aim of what’s called ‘biophilic urban design’. This means designing cities in a way that they incorporate the principles of nature. Catherine cites Singapore, with its greeneries and inner-city parks, as the No.1 example of this – “There’s a hospital there built inside a forest.”
In her book, Catherine examines the various theories advanced to explain why we feel better in nature. There’s been a few, from Edward Osborne Wilson’s concept of biophilia (Nature triggers evolutionary memories of simpler times) to the idea that it is all in the familiar fractal patterns we see all around us in nature.
Or it could be as simple as the physical activity that time in nature usually involves. Or the absence in such places of the noise, air pollution and ‘always on’ nature of modern life.
Catherine’s not sure any of the theories adequately explain the phenomenon and that we don’t exactly know what the mechanisms are. But that’s OK, she says. Just because we can’t explain it doesn’t mean it’s not real. The trap of Western science is the perceived need to categorise everything and put it in a box and label it.
Her own theory is that the answer is a mix of all the above – “When we are in these places we are mindful, unplugged and using our senses to enjoy being there.”