Best For:
Introspective nature lovers, overstimulated city dwellers, long-distance hikers seeking a deeper meaning, poetry lovers who find rhythm in the wind, modern adventurers trying to find reasons to disconnect, & people concerned with their screen time.
The Vault:
- Original Indie Poem with Poet’s Perspective & Reflection on the piece
- The Soundtrack of Silence: Why “noise” in the wilderness is the only antidote to the constant, demanding static of daily news & digital notifications that works for me.
- The “Glowing Rectangle” Effect: A look at how our tether to screens fuels anxiety & why replacing that artificial light with moonlight is a necessity.
- Midwest Trek Breakdown: Highlights from my June 2026 trip across Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, & Ohio. This includes navigating a tornado warning mid-hike at Turkey Run.
- Hiking as Survival, Not Sport: Exploring why I treat the trail as a mandatory discipline for mental health & why this is my favored vacation and weekly routine.
- Luna’s Trail Influence: How consistent time in nature dictates the energy levels & behavioral health of my dog, Luna, in our life and at home.
Silence The Sound, Sometimes:
Sometimes the best thing you can do… is to step away; for me this looks a lot like stepping into the wilderness.
Whether you prefer to day hike, backpack, thru-hike, bushwhack, or even just frolic through a nature walk, we all understand one thing: the noise out here is different. Silence isn’t always quiet, sometimes it just means noise that demands nothing but your wonder. This poem is about just that.
So let’s step away from the noise, notifications, and expectations. Let us figure out how to just exist for at least a few moments.
No schedule, no glowing rectangle, just the sound of the trees and the way the wind greets you after you put a few miles on trail.
This may look like running away, but remember things are not always what they seem. For a Moment – an original piece by Axton N. O. Mitchell written after his Midwest hiking trip in the summer of 2026 which exists as a reminder to who I am in nature when everything gets quiet.
For a Moment:
Somewhere out there,
someone is standing above
the tree-line
hearing the sounds of nature
replacing the chaos
of the daily
news.
We need more of that,
Glowing rectangle views
screaming
alarm bells
ringing,
Warnings of
false
connection
replaced
if only for
moments.
Voices through speakers silenced
Buzzing
Chirping
Trees scrape
their neighbors’ bark
gusts
before you feel the wind in your hair
you must hike through it.
Instead of headlights
shining bright
line of vision
lit up like the summer sky.
Moonlight greets them
unconcerned
with anything but, being.
Distance here
creates thoughts
no longer
bracing against
expected
impact.
For a
moment
nothing is
heavy.
Poet’s Note:
Reflections – The Mid-June Soundtrack:
I found the reason for writing my newest poem “For a Moment” in the quiet exhale that followed my last few treks. This trip was a whirlwind stretch in mid-June 2026. This was by far not just your average getaway; it was a pact made months ago with a friend. I’d agreed to give her a lift after unforeseen circumstances caused her to need a driver for two Illinois trips. My side of the bargain was simple: I’d drive, as long as we could hike on both trips and go camping during at least one of them.
The reality of those days was a jarring and beautiful image at the end of it all.
Tuesday in Indiana’s Turkey Run State Park, the air grew thick and strange; our phones erupted in unison. Blaring a frantic, digital warning to seek immediate shelter from an incoming tornado. We were at the midpoint with a few miles to go, caught between the beauty of the trail and the sheer volatility of nature.
Later that same night and into the early morning hours of Wednesday, after checking into our hotel, we pivoted to an Illinois spot known for 24/7 access. Shelbyville State Fish & Wildlife Area allows unrestricted, unmaintained hiking with no closing time. This level of authentic wilderness is a rare experience for me.
On Wednesday we moved from the Falls of the Ohio to the Big 4 Bridge. Then Thursday hit and we awoke back in Cadiz, Ohio. That morning my friend, her two children, and I drove to pick up my child in my hometown area of Belmont County, Ohio. We all then looped back through Piatt Park in Ohio.
I hit Salt Fork on my way home since I pass it directly, so I stopped for a solo wind-down. Hoping my brain would finally settle from the constant go of the last few days.
Then on Friday the early evening for me was spent at Hemlock Falls in Butler, Ohio, with Luna, my dog, leading the way. She isn’t just a companion; her energy levels and behavioral shifts on trail and in the following days are a mirror of my own.
Balancing these high-intensity, multi-state treks with the quiet, necessary solo miles and ensuring Luna gets her time is how I keep the noise at a bearable level. To me, the hike is not just about the distance covered; it’s about the silence I had to carve out of that noise.
Personal Perspective: Why I Choose the Trail:
I’m no stranger to the side-eyes, the teases, and the outright criticism regarding how I spend my time off.
People love to tell me that hiking isn’t a vacation, or that the way I spend my free time is anything but relaxing. When you look at the itinerary, my marathon run of Maryland, Highpoint, PA, Ohiopyle, and Cooper’s Rock in the spring, or the heavy-mileage stretches through the Blue Ridge Parkway, Asheville, Pisgah, and the New River Gorge, I can understand why it feels like labor to the uninitiated.
They’re missing the point. To me, “relaxing” isn’t sitting still; it’s the active shedding of everything that drags on my internal battery. When I’m “chilling” visually, the thoughts in my mind are nine times out of ten anything but chill, and while I do enjoy the beach, laying there all week would do nothing for me.
Actually, my stress levels would probably be through the roof after all the time I’d spend in my own head while you would probably have the time of your life.
For a Moment is a direct response to that overstimulation. It’s for the person standing in the tree-line, listening to the friction of bark against bark in the wind or the times when the sound of a chime from your incoming notification feels like a physical assault.
We are all being pelted by the modern “glowing rectangle” culture, always tethered to screens that offer nothing but the illusion of connection.
I’ve perfected the art of the escape because I’ve realized it’s a necessity for me in this new-aged always chaotic hellscape.
Whether it’s swapping high beams for the unfiltered light of the moon or learning how to let the weight of existence actually drop off my shoulders, I’ve made this a weekly discipline. If I’m not on the trail for a little bit of time one or two days a week, the anxiety of the daily grind starts to take over all of my space, and I’ve fought hard to clear.
I do love a yummy view; I don’t just hike to see the sights though. Hiking for me means a place to remember who I am when the alarm bells finally go quiet.
Whatever You Do:
Reader, wherever you are, if you’re waiting for the perfect window, the right gear, or a weekend free of obligations to finally step away, let this be your permission to stop waiting. The “weight of being” isn’t something you can just set down on the couch; it requires a deliberate shift in your environment.
Whether you are navigating a multi-state trek, an urban green-space to escape the rush, or just finding a local patch of woods to explore, the goal remains the same: reclaiming the quiet that your nervous system is starving for.
We often talk about hiking as a hobby, exercise, adventure, or a sport, but for some of us it is all that and more. I for one know I’m a part of a rapidly growing group of individuals who use these trails to trek through the triumph and trials of life. We also are able to recharge our social batteries after social, personal, and professional obligations. I feel this is necessary to me as a way to maintain self-care.
Caring for yourself is important. How will you do all you plan to if you’re not here to do it?
– Axton N. O. Mitchell
That space where the trees scrape together, where the wind drowns out the hum of the normal chaos of modern life, is where some of us find the version of ourselves that have yet to be worn down by anxieties and expectations.
The next time you feel the pressure building, look at your calendar. Try a new kind of vacation, day trip, or even passing moment.
Find your trail, pack your essentials, and go. You don’t need to conquer a mountain to experience the wonders of nature; you just need to put enough miles between you and the chaos to hear yourself think again.
Have you carved out your space yet?
Leave a comment below about the one trail or natural spot where you finally feel the silence take hold or, if you’re a person who thinks hiking isn’t your kind of vacation, tell me where you find your peace? I look forward to reading what you do instead and why it works, as well as the hiking trails you enjoy just the same.
Oh, before you go:
For those who read the hiking journals from my many outdoor escapes, the entries from this trip and from a few of the day treks before will be available here soon!
I am just a little behind the time I usually take to get them out, but can you blame me? The weather has been too nice for me to not take advantage of the offering.
TLDR:
This poetry deep-dive explores the necessity of disconnecting, while focusing on finding silence in nature. Reflect on the trip I recently took through Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, and Ohio.
Hiking is many things for me: mental health discipline, vacation, recharge, and adventure. Screens cause constant overstimulation; nature provides the only real reset that works for me.
I hike weekly to manage the good and the bad; if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine. You should practice self-care and make sure your recharging routine is good for you, not those judging you.
Plan Peace – Reads that Relate:
The Trek – Hiking is Vacation. Be Well – How Hiking Improves Mental Health.
Sustainable Hiking. Trail Etiquette. Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore.
Find out more about my Grief themed Hiking Journal & Where you can get yours here – Waterfall Confessions.
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