Nature and the Mind

A natural place that never fails to lift my mood is the Ugam valley in the Western Tien Shan mountains, roughly two hours’ drive from Tashkent. I try to go at least four or five times a year, usually with one or two close friends, and almost always in spring or early autumn, when the weather is mild. The valley has a fast, clear river running through it, surrounded by steep slopes covered in juniper and wild walnut trees, with snow-capped peaks behind. What we do there is deliberately simple. We walk along the river for a few hours, stop to make tea on a small camping stove, and often just sit on the rocks listening to the water. There’s usually no phone signal, which I’ve come to appreciate. I think it affects me so positively for several reasons. Most obviously, there’s the physical aspect — fresh air, exercise and a break from the noise and pollution of the city. But more importantly, there’s a psychological shift. The scale of the mountains puts everyday worries into perspective; problems that felt urgent in the office suddenly seem trivial. The sound of running water is also strangely calming; I’ve read that natural sounds lower stress hormones, and I can certainly feel it. Finally, the absence of a signal forces me to be fully present — to have proper conversations and to notice small things, like the changing light on the slopes. I usually come back feeling as if someone has reset my mind, and that feeling often lasts for days.

Joy → odat → faoliyat → nega (jismoniy, psixologik, sezgi, raqamsiz) → davomiy ta’sir.