You can enjoy nature even if you feel dead inside

one secret trick to neutralize your angst

The best time to visit New England is late September to early October. The air is crisp but not overly cold, all the apple cider in the stores tastes fresh and sweet, and the trees — oh the trees! — are the truest delight to behold. There’s a reason why people travel from across the country and the world to admire the forests during a New England autumn, or walk the streets in Boston around the Charles River during peak foliage. Those few weeks, you can’t help but be bombarded by an explosion of color wherever you go.

I spent nine years of my life in Massachusetts, nine autumns angsting about academics and the future against a backdrop of deep oranges, yellows, and red. During ninth and tenth grade, when I felt hopelessly chubby and ugly, I went on long, self-punishing runs throughout the nearby neighborhoods, running past perfectly maintained Victorian homes inhabited by wealthy and thin doctors, lawyers, and politicians who ran perfectly respectable lives. If I had moved my eyes two iotas or put down just a few of my defenses, I might’ve noticed the dark pinkish red of the beech leaves or the ruddy yellow of the maple, but instead I just felt out of place with my ratty t-shirts and emo music.

In college, I was thinner and could stand to look at myself, but the angst still ran deep. Other Harvard people had perfect lives and perfect families and perfect internships and perfect relationships. Meanwhile, I could only say that I had a life and a family and an internship and a relationship, and had recently found a dollar on the street, but that was nothing compared to being born, finding out that your parents were rich, and never needing to worry about the future. 

Boston Magazine

During the pandemic, I spent an autumn with friends at a lake house in rural Massachusetts. It was a better setup than I ever could have imagined. While people in cities stayed in cramped quarters, I had an abundance of space and idyllic views. I could swim in the lake every morning, hike through the woods while calling friends in the afternoon, or watch the sun set every evening. And in October, as the water became too cold to swim in, I could’ve kayaked across the lake. 

But of course I didn’t. I was a mess, so therefore I couldn’t stop and smell the roses. I had to wallow. Taking time in nature? Fuck no. I had a quarter-life crisis to indulge!