Down south in Gainesville, Florida, emergency physicians Giuliano De Portu, MD, FACEP, and Henry Young II, MD, are surrounded by rivers, lakes, and swamps that are inhabited by local and migratory birds. When they aren’t working in the emergency department (ED), they love to explore the outdoors, cameras in hand, capturing stunning portraits of the birds and other wildlife they encounter.

Photo by Giuliano De Portu, MD, FACEP

Dr. De Portu was a full-time photojournalist before going to medical school when he was 33, but he had never photographed wildlife until the pandemic started. He and Dr. Young were both residents when they discovered their shared interest in photography and started exploring nature with their cameras as a way to destress.

“Taking time off from the ED during the pandemic was a must for me,” Dr. De Portu said. “… I can go on a peaceful walk, take some photographs and connect with art and nature. It also really brings happiness to be able to share my work, and it clears my mind.”

Dr. De Portu is not the only one finding joy and clarity in the great outdoors. In this photo essay, emergency physicians and medical students reflect on their favorite moments in Mother Nature.

Photo by Taylor Haston, DO

I think it is important to remember how strong we are as emergency physicians, feeling everything there is to feel on that front line, while also remembering how strong we are as human beings. We stand tall, chin up with eyes wide open in order to even be aware of our surroundings. This naturally leads to countless opportunities that make it easier for us to recognize just how much exists in this big, beautiful world that has the ability to spark happiness and leaves us truly feeling alive. Perhaps then, the most challenging part is remembering how that spark of happiness felt. We must hold tight to that memory and feed that spark often so it does not extinguish.

Thankfully, the wilderness gives us millions of potential sparks each and every day. Tiny details and inexplicable miracles we see in the sky, the landscapes and mountains that leave us in awe, the rhythmic vibration felt when a herd of elephants cross a riverbed together in the evening that makes us think it was actually a well-choreographed dance, and the simple act of the ocean greeting the sand at sunrise that triggers the smell of saltwater and reminds you of the vastness of the ocean and how beautifully complex its marine life is, just below the surface. This is the wilderness.

These feelings and experiences are our life fuel. They pick us up, they keep us going, they ground us and they keep us feeling as “normal” as possible during very abnormal times. They keep us childlike in the best way, they pique our curiosities and help connect us with others as well as ourselves. The wilderness gives us hope and strength, and gives us a reason to keep fighting through hard times and hard shifts; it ultimately brings us back “home.” —Taylor Haston, DO, chair, ACEP Wilderness Medicine Section

Photo by Michael Pajor, MD, PGY-II

This past summer, my brother and I went canoeing in the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota. We were 60 miles from the nearest town, 55 miles from the nearest cell service and five miles away from any other human. The only sounds audible were the waves on the lake and the calls of an occasional loon flying by. The following quote from The Power of Silence by Robert Cardinal Sarah echoed true: “Silence is not an absence. On the contrary, it is the manifestation of a presence, the most intense of all presences. … The real questions of life are posed in silence. Our blood flows through our veins without making any noise, and we can hear our heartbeats only in silence.” —Michael Pajor, MD, PGY-II, Washington University School of Medicine, St. Louis

Photo by Brian Hilands, DO, PGY-III

Wellness and mental health come from achieving balance in life. In the emergency department, having to make critical decisions on patients’ life-threatening conditions places you on one extreme of the spectrum. The wilderness is my way of finding the antidote to this stress and the harmony needed to feel balanced. The outdoors allows me to reset and to just be. It gives me the opportunity to connect to a cosmic perspective and to be at peace with existing in the world. Because of this, I can proceed without self-criticism and be okay with the flow of nature and life itself. Once I find this harmony, I am refreshed and grounded and am better able to treat my patients holistically. —Brian Hilands, DO, PGY-III,

Inspira Health Network, New Jersey

Photo by Jeannie Kuang-Nguyen, MS4

During lockdown, I began exploring film photography and the city I grew up in. I started spending more time in nature, hiking and hanging from trees. These past years have been tough on us. We live in a society that is fast-paced; society often goes on without us. We are told that time is precious and limited, so we should make the most of it and accomplish as much as we can. But in doing so, many of us lose sight of the importance of being present. So, this past year, I learned the importance of slowing down. —Jeannie Kuang-Nguyen, MS4, University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences, Little Rock

I was in the mountains of the Peruvian Andes, two days into the Salkantay Trek. We had woken early that morning to begin the short day hike up to Humantay Lake, and I was thinking about my grandmother. Thousands of miles away from my family, it was difficult to comprehend that this fierce, independent, fiery woman, who had made a life out of saying no to gender roles and yes to adventure, was no longer here.

Photo by Sophie Karwoska Kligler, MS4

As we came over the crest of the mountain and the lagoon opened up in front of us, bounded on either side by the towering peaks of Salkantay and Humantay, I was struck by the sensation of togetherness. My grandmother had been here, in this exact spot, decades earlier—I had grown up admiring the photos on her wall. She had climbed these same hills, scrambled over these same boulders, stopped and stared at this same stunning view. Though we were not together at the moment her soul left her body, we were here together now, across time, linked by the permanence of this wonderful wilderness and our love for it. I built a small cairn next to the lake, one of many along the rocky bank, and I left it there as a crude statue to my grandmother and to the power of this place to connect our spirits. Whatever happened, wherever I might be in whatever time, we were always here together. —Sophie Karwoska Kligler, MS4, Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York

Photo by Amy Ondeyka, MD, FACEP

I think one overlooked treatment for burnout is animals. My dog, Sawyer, has the uncanny ability to wipe the slate clean after a horrible shift. He is a constant reminder to live in the moment and enjoy life to the fullest. We should be so lucky to have even an ounce of that attitude. —Amy Ondeyka, MD, FACEP,

Inspira Health Network, Vineland, New Jersey

Photo by Megan Barthels, MS4

Exploring the outdoors serves as a lens to focus the chaos in life for me; it allows me to return my focus to what is important in life. Similarly to this picture (above), where the landscape goes for miles and miles but the rocks allow you to focus in on one specific area to explore, I find that spending time in the outdoors allows me to break away from many of the excess thoughts and worries that plague me on certain days and focus on the things in life that bring me joy and peace. Like the rocks in the picture, the outdoors center my attention on the things that I value. —Megan Barthels, MS4, Medical College of Wisconsin-Green Bay

Photo by Adrian A. Palmer, MS4

I always forget how happy I am when I’m outside. It can feel hard to plan, to pack, to get moving. But once I’m out, that always changes. My worries melt away as I give myself permission to be here and in this moment. Being out in nature and seeing the beauty of the world just reminds me of how lucky we are to be here and how full of wonder the world is.

—Adrian A. Palmer, MS4, Marian University College of Osteopathic Medicine, Indianapolis