“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.” — John Muir

T o me, there’s nothing quite like a walk on the beach. There’s something that inexplicably draws me in, almost tidally, calming my mind and soul while at the same giving endless opportunity for our family to erupt in laughter as the sand tickles our toes and we dance and sing.

Strolling the beach is awesome to both your physical and mental health. At sunset, it becomes majestic, a magnificent golden-washed landscape like no other.

And yet, there’s something about a walk through the forest that the ocean’s side can’t provide – an ever-changing scenery.

I love the shore, for sure. But walking our home’s neighboring trails and woods provides a constantly varying landscape, bringing out our family’s ecstatically eager inner botanists as we let our imaginations run wild and forage the forest floors for nature’s bounty.

It’s a complete contrast from the coast’s static skyline, but walking among the trees provides a unique experience entirely of its own.

In the woods, there are hundreds of science lessons at our feet. The rugged trails make for a fantastic workout, the hike gives us a refresher tutorial in geography, making the experience an educational family adventure.

Last weekend, our family did just this as we explored trails deep within the woods, observing, laughing and learning all the way.

The month of March, meteorogically the most indecisive of the year, actually seems the most appropriate time to take a hike.

It’s that perfect weather that’s past winter’s frigid peak and before summer’s heat that provides a comfortable walking temperature.

Plus, it’s not quite invasionof ticks season yet.

Walking in the woods in March truly provides that happy middle, “just right,” as the proverbial Goldilocksian theory goes.

It’s the time of year in which we can be delightfully treated to all four seasons.

This has less to do with a Frankie Valli record deal and more to do with finding elements from the four corners of the year.

Within the span of our rugged, 2-hour trek, we were treated to nature’s best as the miles passed.

We experienced a seasonal hodge-podge as we journeyed on.

Our family spied piles of fallen brown leaves left over from autumn, dotted whispers of spring buds, summery green grass poking through trees long-fallen and dead, and numerous patches of frozen creeks and ponds that reminded us winter still lingered.

Our family dog cocked her confused head when our older son tossed branches toward a quarry that, rather than splash- ing through, ricocheted off solid ice.

Our younger son pointed at narrow frozen creeks down small banks that gushed streams of water and natural debris far beneath their clear surface.

We made fascinating backyard discoveries that brimmed of history, ranging from old rock quarries that formed hidden ponds, to winding trails that covered over old railroads.

We came across strange landscapes that looked more akin to Dr. Seuss-style vistas than our own local woods, with bent over trees ensnared with the branches of others, tightly coiled by tall yellow grass which stretched up from the ground. Tall cliffs and moss-covered rocks jutted from the ground dramatically along the trails, and every turn gave us a different view, a new appreciation for the great outdoors.

We were alone in our thoughts and in the woods, but we were completely surrounded by ever-changing scenery on our well-maintained trail.

We followed trail markers along the way, making a game of it.

Our boys took long naps after our adventure, and they woke up eager to go on another outing soon.

Hiking and happy trails are no walk on the beach, and perhaps it’s for this very reason they create a perfect thrill – and fabulous workout – for us all.

I once read that it’s impossible to walk in the woods and be in a bad mood at the same time.

This seems pretty accurate.

We are by no means trailblazers, and we certainly didn’t take any roads less traveled while out hiking with our kiddos and dog.

But we did learn that you don’t have to go far beyond your backyard to have a true adventure and to be inspired.

— Michelle Cote is the art director of the Journal Tribune. She enjoys cooking, baking, and living room dance-offs with her husband, two boys and a dog. She can be reached at mcote@journaltribune.com.