When people learn that I that lived in Switzerland for three years, they picture snowy Alps and pristine lakes. But my dad’s hometown where I lived wasn’t hanging on a mountain ledge or nestled in a deep valley. It wasn't in the Alps at all. Or the Pre-Alps. Or even the Jura Mountains. Nope, this village was in the Ajoie, the farthest possible away from the Alps. OK, so there were some hills, but it wasn’t mountainous by any stretch of the imagination.

My family moved from Western Washington, where the Cascade Mountains stood on one side, the Olympics on the other, and volcanic giants towered above it all. So when I arrived in the relatively flat countryside of Switzerland, I was very underwhelmed. “What is with this dinky landscape? Not nearly as pretty as the Pacific Northwest. The trees are so short here, and the forest seems tame. And where are Puget Sound and all the lakes?” I missed the breath-taking scenery of home.

But this same “dinky” landscape gave me two huge things the Pacific North West never did. First, a love for exploration. Whatever the countryside was, it was certainly walkable. Century-old trails crisscross the forests and fields, and pedestrian trespassing isn’t a problem. When I wanted to get out of the house, I’d set out on foot or take my bike and just wander. Each time I explored farther. I’d find a bridge, or a meadow, or a pond which I might never have known existed if I hadn’t turned right at the fork. But what about that left trail? The new accessibility of the outdoors in the Ajoie made me realize how fun exploring is.

The second thing the Ajoie taught me is that gentle beauty of the natural world is just as breath-taking. Learning this was a gradual process, but one day stood out, in particular, I glanced up and saw an orange stripe of November forest stretched between green fields and a wide blue sky. It blew me away. And I kept being blown away — the fuzz of the winter forest seen from a distance, the golden-green sunshine through Spring leaves, the organized rows of crops, giant heaps of harvested sugar beets, majestic cloud formations in the open sky. Even that blade of grass by the fence post… it was all beautiful. Had it really all been there before?

Eventually, we moved back to Washington. Of course now it's the Swiss countryside that I miss. It’s easy to bemoan Western Washington’s frightful suburbia or lack of ancient trails, but what I learned from those years in Switzerland is relevant anywhere: exploration is the best kind of fun, and the natural world is always beautiful.

Photo Credit: Marina Lind Schmitt