Why I Keep Going Back to the Woods

Every trip into the woods gives me something to bring home. Sometimes it's a photograph. Sometimes it's a story. Always, it's a reminder to pay attention.

One of the questions I occasionally get asked is whether I spend so much time outdoors because I'm looking for ideas for Journeys Of The Crew.

The answer is... sort of.

But probably not in the way most people imagine.

I'm rarely hiking through the woods searching for the next dramatic scene or the perfect plot twist.

Instead, I'm trying to remember what the outdoors actually feels like.

How quiet is a forest after a spring rain?

How far does the sound of a creek carry through the trees?

How quickly do muddy trails begin to dry once the sun comes out?

What does damp pine smell like on a cool morning?

How long does it take before your boots stop making that familiar squishing sound?

Those aren't details I can reliably invent while sitting behind a keyboard.

They're details I have to experience.

Many of those walks begin with a camera slung over my shoulder. Photography has given me a reason to return to the same places again and again, often under completely different conditions. The light changes. The weather changes. The seasons change.

And every once in a while, so does my perspective.

I've learned that the best photographs rarely belong to the person who moves the fastest. They belong to the person who slows down long enough to notice something everyone else walks past.

It turns out writing works much the same way.

Sometimes I'll walk the same trail I've explored dozens of times and notice a game trail I somehow missed before. Or the way a fallen tree quietly redirects the path around it. Or how the afternoon sun filters through a stand of cottonwoods differently than it did just a few weeks earlier.

None of those moments may ever appear exactly as they happened.

But together, they help build a world that feels honest.

That idea has quietly become one of the foundations of Journeys Of The Crew.

The greatest discoveries in these stories don't happen because the characters travel to the most remote places on Earth. They happen because they slow down enough to notice what has been there all along.

In many ways, writing these books has made me a better observer.

Or maybe it's the other way around.

Maybe years of wandering quiet trails with a camera taught me that every place has another story waiting for someone patient enough to find it.

That's one of the reasons I keep going back to the woods.

Sometimes I come home with a photograph I'm excited to share.

Other times I come home with nothing more than a small observation scribbled in a notebook.

I've learned not to be disappointed by either outcome.

Both remind me to pay attention.

And paying attention is where every good photograph, every memorable adventure, and every story in Journeys Of The Crew begins.

Continue the Journey

For a true story about what becomes visible when we slow down outdoors, read Learning to Notice.

For another example of the outdoors finding its way into the series, read The Campfire That Inspired a Scene.