A part of my naturism is the act of being nude and natural in a natural environment. How might the consciousness of a person who lived here take form? We have natural senses, more than our civilized living allows us. Nudity greatly helps to bring that out.
When I’m nude I see with my skin. I’m in the moment more. This is meditative, but a better sense of my surroundings is had. It is the skills of a hunter/gatherer. These are the places a mind can be in in a more silenced wood or desert, instead of alarm from traffic, sirens, and loud people and their distractions.
I’m out there not as just a nude, but a naturalist as well. I want to know what the beings of the natural world know and how they know it. I want to see wildlife, observe, smell, follow their lives by what they leave as clues in the greater puzzle.
There is also those often reported experiences of animals showing less, or no fear of the nude human. Be it smell, the look, the vibe, or what.
These skills can protect me from other people’s incursions just the same. If I am immersed in the trail experience, it follows that other humans would be a part of this practice of awareness. These days, so many of us are so oblivious to their noise, that they are so very easy to hear, follow tracks, etc.
If I want solitude, I may need these secret naturist’s tools and skills. If I don’t want to be harassed by law and textile sensibilities, I may need these secret naturist’s tools and skills. If I want to learn to know what it actually means to be natural, more than just naked, I must use these tools and skills. If I want to practice the art of the warrior leaving no sound or trace, I’ve got to “be” there with my intention. If I want it to be my choice to be seen, or not, I must use these tools and skills. If I am looking for the heightened spiritual sense found in naturism, the key to that door would be theses skills, and their practice.
As for birds, there is a Jay in Arizona that will, at times, loudly harass every step of the way. I’ve had them telling the whole world about my presence for a mile at a time. It lives mostly in the lower scrub oak communities along with all of the crackling crunching of stiff dry fallen leaves. There ain’t no Indian sneaking up on, or around, anybody, on those days.