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One of the most captivating aspects of #Naturism in autumn is the way the #environment transforms around me. The sensory experience becomes more vivid, as every sense is heightened by the changing season. Without the barrier of clothing, I feel every nuance of the season — the crispness of the air, the warmth of the sun when it breaks through cloud cover, & the texture of leaves underfoot. (1/11)
Unlike the intense heat of summer, autumn air is invigorating. The coolness against my bare skin awakens my #body, sharpening my #awareness & enhancing #mindfulness. The sensation can be both calming & energising, reminding me that my #body is adaptable & resilient. Adjusting to the change in temperature is part of the allure — my skin becomes attuned to subtle shifts in the weather, making each day a fresh #experience. (2/11)
I would describe the feeling as therapeutic. Walking along a #bush track, with the air tinged by the earthy scent of fallen leaves, brings a sense of #connection to the #natural #world that feels intimate & grounding. It’s a stark contrast to #Naturism in summer, where heat can sometimes be overwhelming. (3/11)
Autumn brings with it a rich tapestry of textures. Gone are the scorching sands & dry grass of summer. Instead, leaves of every colour blanket the ground, providing a soft, crunchy surface to walk on. Moss becomes moist & vibrant, & the #earth itself feels cooler & more compact. (4/11)
Walking barefoot in autumn is an experience all its own. The sensation of stepping on leaves — sometimes brittle & crackling, other times soft & damp — connects me directly with the changing landscape. In my practice of #HadakaShizenyoku I walk slowly & #mindfully, appreciating how the ground feels beneath my feet as I move through the #bush or along the beach. (5/11)
Autumn is quieter than summer, with fewer insects buzzing & less human activity outdoors. Instead, there’s a soothing rustle as the wind stirs the branches, & leaves flutter to the ground. Birds, preparing for migration, call out intermittently, adding to the season’s reflective atmosphere. (6/11)
When I’m immersed in #Nature without clothing, every sound feels closer & more distinct. The lack of fabric to muffle the #environment makes even the smallest sounds more noticeable — like a twig snapping underfoot or a gust rustling through dried leaves. This heightened #awareness fosters a deeper sense of presence & #peace. (7/11)
Perhaps one of the most distinct aspects of #Naturism in autumn is the scent of the season. The air carries the unmistakable aroma of fallen leaves, damp earth, & occasionally wood smoke from distant fires. There’s a richness to the air that feels comforting & nostalgic. The Smell Consciousness practice (鼻識, Bishiki) of #HadakaShizenyoku sharpens my sense of smell, connecting me to #Nature’s #impermanence. (8/11)
The scent of wet earth, salty air, crushed leaves, or sun-warmed skin becomes a gateway to #mindfulness. Without the barrier of clothing, my skin breathes in the scents of the #environment. Whether it’s the faint sweetness of ripe #bush fruits or the musky smell of the undergrowth, the olfactory experience of #Naturism is unparalleled. (9/11)
One of the surprises my new students tell me about #Naturism in autumn is how warm the sun can still feel despite cooler air temperatures. Finding a sunlit spot shielded from the wind can create a pocket of warmth, perfect for soaking up the light. The sun’s angle is lower, casting a softer, golden glow that enhances the vivid colours of the changing foliage. (10/11)
Sunbathing in autumn becomes a more deliberate act — finding the right spot, positioning myself to catch the most light, & simply savouring the contrast between cool air & warm sun. This balance between warmth & chill creates a uniquely invigorating experience. (11/11)