I’ve been enjoying the walking adventures of Steve Fagin and his fellow hikers in the wilds of Connecticut as he describes them in The Day. We live in uncertain times during this pandemic, and a walk in the woods seems like a good idea.

It also reminded me of some of the stories I’ve heard from veterans about things they did to deal with the aftermath of war. In one situation, a young man, age 19, remembered returning from Vietnam to his family in upstate Michigan in 1969 and being greeted at the front door of his parents’ home by a throng of happy family members. Their relief that he had made it home from the war bubbled all around him in a din of hugs, delighted chatter and the occasional slap on the back with words like: “Good job, old man. Glad you’re back!”

He sat down to a meal of all his favorite foods prepared by his mother but found he could only stare into his plate and eat. He couldn’t meet the eyes of all the caring people around him or answer their questions about what it was like to go to war.

Within two days he stuffed a few clothes, a sleeping bag, a canteen of water and some freeze-dried food into his old backpack from high school and headed out into the woods behind his house. As much as he loved his family, he couldn’t relax and pretend to participate in conversation. He had come back to normal life, but nothing felt normal anymore.

He said his choice, to head into wilderness, was a wise decision. He needed to re-find himself.

What he did had no label back then, but therapists today refer to his need to head for the woods as “green exercise” or “ecotherapy.”

The impulse to heal oneself in a natural environment is not a new idea. Back in 1948, Earl Shaffer returned from WWII and told a friend he was going to “walk off the war” and became the first person to walk the entire distance of the 2,180-mile Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine. He also became one of the first to describe using the challenge of nature to restore himself from the fatigue of war, the horrific experience of being constantly in high alert.

In 2012, USMC Captain Sean Gobin returned from active duty in Afghanistan and spearheaded the Warrior Hike “Walk off the War” program, providing supplies and services along the way so that veterans today could experience the benefits of walking the entire Appalachian Mountain trail as Earl did.

Since then Warrior Hike has partnered with the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, the Continental Divide Trail Coalition and the Pacific Crest Trail Association to offer a variety of hiking experiences for combat veterans.

A state of high alert is necessary to survive in battle, and that condition combined with the terrifying ordeal of witnessing physical harm, galvanize into body memories that are not easy to switch off after leaving a war zone. Researchers say that these emotional memories become embossed in the mind and body through the impact of stress hormones on delicate brain receptors. Our present pandemic has the trappings of war — with an unseen, insidious assailant.

How does something as simple as seeking outdoor recreation and activities help? The benefit of “returning to nature” sounds like a cliché but in fact nature offers a salve that can cure even deep psychological wounds. A visit to, or a view of, a natural environment seems to restore quietness to the mind.

Some speculate that stress accumulates when we deal with continuous challenges and we gradually lose our focus of attention because we have too many things to keep track of. If we are moving at our own pace, step-by-step through a natural landscape, with little or no human interaction, we regain our attention and enter a state of “soft fascination,” a relaxed present-centeredness where thoughts can come and go.

This appears to help the mind recover from the fatigue of being continuously alert and fearful and invites introspection, the observation of our own conscious inner thoughts and emotions. One former combat veteran said, “Hiking is peaceful and it helped me realize what I have, even if I feel like I might never be the same again.”

It seems that self-compassion is easier to find in nature. A walk in the woods or on a beach offers the space to calm down and appreciate yourself and all your complexities. If you’re in search of the perfect place to find yourself, visit theday.com/hiking.

Ruth W. Crocker lives in Mystic. She can be reached at ruthwcrocker@gmail.com, or visit ruthwcrocker.com.