Forest Bathing
As we drive closer to the Blue Mountains during this holiday season, concrete cityscapes melt into expansive fields, and the relentless hum of urban life gives way to the symphony of lush Australian bushland. It feels cathartic, like exhaling a breath held far too long.
The Trail
The trail begins inconspicuously from the lookout, the dirt path soft underfoot with a carpet of damp fallen leaves. The bark of towering gum trees curls and peels away, revealing smooth, pale trunks beneath. Sunlight dances through the canopy, casting shifting patterns on the ground. There’s a faint shimmer in the distance, the effect of eucalyptus oil rising into the warming air, as if the light itself were playing tricks like in the Sahara desert. The illusion makes me wonder: Is this a real place or a scene from a simulation? Even here, in the coolness of the mountains, the promise of a hot day lingers.
Despite the heat creeping in, a soft breeze threads its way through the trees. It’s a welcome reprieve as we descend large, time-worn stone steps. The act of walking becomes meditative, each step grounding and rejuvenating—a deep breath for the soul.
The Sound
If you listen carefully, the bush hums with life. Cicadas dominate in rhythmic waves, their collective song rising and falling in a mesmerising drone. Native birds flit between the branches overhead, their calls ranging from melodic trills to sharp cries which echo through the forest. A lyrebird emerges momentarily, scratching through the undergrowth with no regard for the humans nearby.
Nearby, the gentle murmur of a hidden creek threads through the bush. As we venture further, the stream transforms into a dignified waterfall, its waters tumbling into a serene rock pool below. Swimmers wade and laugh, their laughter blending seamlessly with the natural acoustics. Overhead, a kookaburra’s iconic laugh slices through the air, its echo bouncing playfully between the trees. The sounds shift constantly, a reminder that this forest is alive and ever-changing
The Colour
The colours of the bush feel richer here, as though painted fresh for our viewing. Greens dominate but never repeat—the deep jade of tree ferns, the dusty olive of shrubs lining the path, and the silvery sheen of eucalyptus leaves that sway in the breeze. The greens are far from uniform. The path surprises us with vibrant pops of colour from wildflowers dotting the trail—yellow wattles, red bottlebrush, and delicate purple beauties.
Higher up, the sandstone cliffs come into view. Under the mid-morning sun, their amber and rose hues radiate warmth, their rugged faces streaked with ribbons of white and orange. Below them, the forest stretches endlessly, a verdant sea interrupted only by distant trails and glimmers of water. Despite the occasional sighting of other hikers, the mountains make you feel wonderfully, liberatingly alone.
The Feel
The bush is textured and bumpy. The bark of a gum tree is rough under my fingers, its grooves telling stories of years spent weathering storms and sun. Moss clings to the fallen logs, velvety and cool to the touch, while the ground beneath my boots alternates between soft mulch and hard, compacted dirt.
Every so often, the trail leads through cool wind tunnels where scents shift dramatically. The tangy citrus of lemon-scented tea trees and the spicy sweetness of crushed eucalyptus leaves hang in the air, invigorating and grounding all at once. A spider’s web catches the sunlight, its delicate threads trembling as we pass.
The Air
The air here feels different—crisper, lighter, charged with the energy of mother nature. A breeze drifts through the valley, carrying with it the distant, damp scent of moss-covered rocks and hidden creeks — it tastes faintly of palo santo, cool and invigorating as you draw it in.
As I pause to drink from my water bottle, the coolness is a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating from the sandstone steps we’ve been climbing. The taste of the water, so ordinary elsewhere, seems heightened here, so pure and hydrating.
The Sky’s Changing Canvas
As the day unfolds, the sky above shifts from a brilliant blue to a softer, hazy hue. There’s only one white whispy cloud in the sky — its’ shadow crawling across the canopy below, adding a sense of timelessness to the landscape.
By late afternoon, the light turns golden, casting a warm glow over everything. The bush seems to hold its breath, the cicadas quieting slightly, the breeze softening. The sun moves higher, causing sweat to drop from our brows and intensifying the heat which create golden hues on the sandstone cliffs.
A Quiet Reflection
At a lookout, I pause for a moment to take it all in. Days like this are rare and memorable. The forest stretches as far as our eyes can see, a sea of green broken only by the occasional rocky opening. Time and all life’s stresses feels irrelevant here; the landscape, ancient and unchanging, holds a timelessness that puts our own fleeting presence into perspective.
It was healing to spend a day in the Mountains this Boxing Day 2024; it’s a sensory immersion, a chance to see, hear, feel, and breathe the world in its purest form with people that I love. Every rustle, scent, and glimmer of light etches itself into my memory—a reminder of how important it is to reset in a place of beauty that only mother nature can provide.
