It has been nearly a year since I took my three-week trip to Northern California and Oregon to connect with nature, family and friends. My journey in September and October 2013 included peaceful solitary time in nature, getting soggy in the season’s first rainstorm, and a bit of drama, the natural one of the wettest September in Oregon history and the human one of being in a national park when the federal government shut down. So here begins a belated series of posts including stories and photos about my travels from last year.

At a time of a difficult transition in my life, I was irresistibly pulled toward a solitary camping retreat for my birthday and the fall equinox, and knew where I needed to spend time to reflect and recharge—the old-growth redwood forest of the North Coast. I headed to Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, home to some of the world’s oldest and tallest trees in the remaining 3% of pristine redwood forest. After a long period of recovery from my knee replacement and being restricted from hiking, arriving at the campground felt like coming home.

Picking the ideal campsite was important for a six-day stay and the campground was largely empty when I arrived. I lucked into Site 44, surrounded by a canopy of trees and shrubs to minimize the moisture that would inevitably be all over everything and act as a windbreak. The best feature of this site was the private creekside spot accessible down a short path through the trees, where I would be able to watch the daily show of bats feeding over the water at nightfall.

This was the kitchen, living room and bedroom. The sign on the table reminds campers to properly store food and remove crumbs to keep wildlife wild.

 My campsite’s bonus room

There is something about the company of such enormous trees that always inspires slowing down and being introspective. On my arrival day, I was drawn to an open area in the campground for a walking meditation beside two giant redwoods. I naturally slowed down so much that I barely moved with each step, focusing on the feel of the earth beneath me, conscious of deep roots, and feeling my awareness widen.

We are always of this earth, we just forget it. So began my personal journey of remembering and restoring. For more from Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, see Part 2.