What Nature Means During a Pandemic
The OSU Extension Master Naturalist Program asked its Master Naturalists and trainees what nature means to them in an unprecedented time of a global pandemic. On March 23rd, 2020, Governor Kate Brown issued a Stay At Home order to keep Oregonians and their communities safe and "flatten the curve" of the COVID-19 virus's spread.
With this order, many who would normally seek the rejuvenating qualities of nature through hiking, wildlife and wildflower viewing, and other outdoor recreational activities are now being asked to stay close to home and not venture out onto public trails and public lands without a 6-foot separation. Local, County and State Parks are all closed due to this order.
How does nature resonate with Master Naturalists when they, as with all of us, are asked to change their lives to keep everyone healthy? We asked them to share their thoughts. This page contains video and written reflections. Scroll through this page to see both.
Video Reflections on What Nature Means to Master Naturalists
Lecia Schall
Donna Acord
Carol Miles
Eleanor Burke
Pat and Bobbie Allaire
Jack Shorr
Liz Schotman
Maidie Kenney
Barbara Casteel
Sharon Roberts
Beverly Drottar
Written Reflections on What Nature Means to Master Naturalists
- Marie Vandaveer
- Donna Hrynyshyn (Junction City)
- Natalie DaSilva
- Jeff Gottfried
- Gloria from Tigard, Oregon
- Carrie Gordon
- Anna Finch
- Troy Dunn
Nature is my relief and inspiration. While sheltering in place, I can enjoy the birds and squirrels in my own backyard, our stately Ponderosas, the beautiful skies and sunshine. We’ve never been ordered to stay home in my lifetime so it can feel like an unnatural constraint some days, but I relieve that weight by taking a walk outdoors or working in the yard or just sitting on my own front porch and taking in the view of the trees moving in the wind, the people walking by and smiling, saying “hi”. I feel like we are all in this together and are connected by our natural world of wonders. I take a deep breath of fresh air and receive my inspiration, literally and completely.
Nature provides an escape from the stresses and strains of everyday life, especially in times of crisis. I can find a sense of peace, purpose and belonging when I am out in nature. Nature calms my soul. Without any of my usual obligations, I have been able to spend much more time outside in my yard working, reflecting and observing. I have tried to be much more mindful in my surroundings by paying closer attention and just being present in the moment.
In the spirit of mindfulness, I have tried to better use my senses while out in nature. Of course, it helps when you feel no sense of urgency to rush off to something else. Here are a few of my recent observations:
I’ve been seeing the cheery colors of the spring daffodils and fruit trees blossoming. The fleeting beauty of a rainbow appears over lush green hillsides, fields and pastures. I hear the pitter patter or pounding of rain as it helps hydrate and make the landscapes green. I love the sound of the chickadees at my feeder, the honking of migrating geese and the dive-bombing whistle of the rufous hummingbird zooming past my head. Can anything compare to the sweet fragrant smell of hyacinth and fruit trees in bloom? Or the earthy aroma of strolling in a Douglas-fir forest? As I weed and plant, I feel the life-giving soil between my fingers and the warmth of sunlight on my back. Finally, I’m not skilled enough to safely taste the bounty of the land this spring, but I look forward to the harvest of summer and fall. I wish you all health, happiness and the hope that nature will soothe your soul.
From my earliest memories, Nature has always brought me joy and wonder. As I’ve grown older, it has also brought me solace. In these scary times I’ve been reflecting on the tremendous rejuvenating power of Nature, and how Nature conveys a message of hope. The landscapes of places like Mt. Lassen and Mount St. Helens are beautiful and striking examples of both the destructive and regenerative powers of Nature. Today I choose to focus on regeneration. The story of Mount St. Helens is one of rebirth and recovery at a rate that no one expected. Flowers carpet the Plains of Abraham. More than 250 mountain goats thrive on the rocky slopes. A viewpoint toward the southern flank is nearly obscured by growing trees.
The photo is taken from the Hummocks Trail. The hummocks are pieces of the mountain that slide off in the gigantic landslide that began the 1980 eruption. The area now has oases of life; life that has sprung up, as the trail guide says, “with amazing speed”. Bare rock and ash have been transformed, and are now covered with grasses, trees, ferns, and wildflowers. There are abundant ponds. Birds, frogs, elk, and beaver can be found. The transformation of this landscape brings me hope.

A view of Mount St. Helens from Hummocks Trail.
I have been paying particular attention to the birds that hang out at my feeders and in my backyard. Three weeks ago I noticed that Anna’s Hummingbirds were hovering very close to the ground and placing their beaks into the cracks of the crumbling masonry that once secured bricks to the side of a walkway.
After noticing this odd phenomenon (no pollen down there!) for awhile , I sent a blurred photo and description of what I was seeing to birders. Everyone was fascinated. No one had a clue. My hypothesis: The Hummingbirds we’re collecting “salts/electrolytes” from the powdered cement that contains CaCO3 from limestone and other constituents including lime.
I resorted to a Google search and found a post that reported having observed hummingbirds feeding from a fire pit (collecting ash). I then found a scientific paper dealing with the subject of hummingbirds’ need for electrolytes from their environment.
This is a snippet of a video where I’ve captured the behavior.
Here is a research paper that discusses this behavior.
What Nature Means to Me in the Time of the Covid-19 Pandemic
The first week of the pandemic, I was snowshoeing on Mt. Hood. While on the trail one day, I was hit with symptoms. I headed home and have spent the last two weeks moving through what my doctor thinks probably is Covid-19, but without testing, we’ll never know. During this time, nature has meant a great deal to me. During the peak of my illness, we had the gift of fine weather, and I spent much of the time on my deck watching the emergence of bees, the birds hopping about, and the trees, shrubs, and flowering plants slowly unfurling, blooming, promising a better tomorrow. So what does nature mean to me? It is comfort, a reminder of the interconnectedness of life, that I am but one small piece but an important piece. Just as one species in the web of life is important, so too is my role in the bigger picture. Whether it’s isolating because I am sick, whether I plant a native in my garden, or whether I share my enthusiasm for nature with a child or an adult. As I reflect on the importance of nature, I see that it’s about the joy and comfort it brings me, but it’s also about being part of something bigger. I’m not alone, even if I’m sitting by myself on my deck in the sun or watching the rain fall on the awakening plants. May you all find peace in nature now and going forward in your life.
The past month has been a whirlwind of change. The first Saturday of March, I worked my volunteer day for Friends of the Crook County Library, as we watched and listened to concerns about Coronavirus transmission routes being discussed. By the next week, we were discussing and starting to participate in social distancing. WOW!! Only a few days later, sheltering in place, washing hands frequently and social distancing were at the top of our priority list.
How did that effect me? As a retiree, sheltering in place has allowed me to fully focus on those activities I enjoy. Monday and Tuesday morning tea time is spent collecting data (ie bird watching) for Project Feeder Watch. No interruptions pulling me away to a meeting or exercise. My daily walks take me up to Barnes Butte or out to the wetlands. My new digital camera is my new best friend, along with my binoculars!
I’ve been learning new weaving techniques and playing with a color challenge which includes processing fiber and spinning yarn.
It’s all good. I’ve been checking in on family and friends, near and far, via phone calls. Exploring ways I can help out in our community by dropping off food or donating to various support agencies.
My 90 year old mom pointed out that our country has survived other tough times - The Depression, WWII - with focus and diligence, we can survive this.
Wishing you all good health!
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Photo by Carrie Gordon
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Photo by Carrie Gordon
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Photo by Carrie Gordon
Nature means everything to me! I have always loved nature since I was a child and have been fortunate to hike and explore a lot of beautiful places around the world. Since partaking in the Virginia and now Oregon Master Naturalist programs I have a deeper respect and understanding of ecology and how we as volunteers can help bring awareness to others about nature through volunteering like community science projects! I know it is tough now with everything going on but even looking at a picture of some trees lifts my spirits and when I am fortunate to go hiking in the woods, I know it is helping my mental, emotional, and physical health! Nature is resilient and so are we.
Anna Finch - Oregon Master Naturalist Trainee
It’s been almost three weeks since I left my apartment complex. Just one quick trip around the block to make sure my car battery kept a charge. I walk my dog when he needs out but otherwise I have been at home, alone, waiting for a global pandemic to pass.
This is of course our own fault. Humankind’s unrelenting misuse of nature’s resources is pitting our capacity for survival against its limits.
Our existence is entirely contingent on the natural world. We need a stable climate. We need stable ecosystems. We need biodiversity. We need healthy air, water, and soil. And we need to make major changes at every level or we’re all going to die.
It’s that simple. It’s that real. It’s that scary.
We can’t recycle our way out of this. We can’t wait for corporations to do the right thing or for money to stop controlling our politics.
Science tells us that our oceans will be dead in 30 years. We have ten years to address our climate crisis. Right now, if you don’t cover your face, wash your hands, and stay six feet away from other people, you could be gasping for your last breath in less than two weeks.
Nature means everything. We have to change.
Troy Dunn - OSU Master Naturalist Trainee and Master Gardener