By Susan and Biff Andrews

On a recent trip to Shenandoah National Park, we learned a new term for an old practice: “rustication.”

It refers to the practice by city visitors in the 1880s and 1890s of visiting the country and spending time on a farm or in a lodge, sometimes farming with the family, sometimes hunting, sometimes just hiking or horseback riding through the forests.

Obviously these were wealthy city dwellers who needed a “fix” of country living, which brought to mind our own flights to the country in the past and explains why we were there last week.

Romans built country villas to escape summer heat — see Pompeii’s ruins for examples. Some were a day’s travel to the mountains, like Pompeii; some were to the seashore. This sounds like our society, although our rich folks travel to the Bahamas and the Alps.

Medieval Europeans had a different reason for rusticating — the Bubonic Plague or Black Death. One of the most famous works of literature of the time was Bocaccio’s “Decameron.” Ten young Florentines decamped to the country and told 10 stories each during the 1348 plague outbreak. It got them away from the rats and fleas and kept them amused.

Following the Renaissance came the Romantic Movement in Germany and England, which urged people to “let Nature be their teacher.” Wordsworth wrote in 1796: “One impulse from a vernal wood / May teach you more of Man / Of moral evil and of good / Than all the sages can.”

In other words, don’t just go to the country to escape filth, folk and factories; go for the moral influence. God didn’t build stone churches; He built trees. If you want to get close to God, go sit under a tree. Soak God in.

Shortly after the Romantics, came the American Transcendentalists, especially Emerson and Thoreau. The latter actually left society for two years to live alone in nature in a tiny cabin at Walden Pond, the ultimate rustification.

As he wrote in his journal, “I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits unless I spend four hours a day at least sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free of all worldly engagements.”

Which brings us back to the rusticators in Shenandoah — and Yellowstone and Yosemite and the Adirondacks — wealthy city folk who knew somehow that they had to get back to their origins at the turn of the century. Their instincts and efforts led to our national parks system.

Today we have ecotourism and agritourism. One is like being on a safari with a camera instead of a gun — respecting and admiring the wildlife, but leaving it alone, like my brother, who recently did a week’s kayaking trip in the Sea of Cortez — wonderful pictures followed.

The other involves urban or suburban folks who actually work the cattle, pigs, chickens, fields, grapes or whatever on a working farm. Agritourism is like a dude ranch experience where you actually work the cattle drive, as in “City Slickers.”

In both cases, the environment and wildlife are respected, unharmed and enjoyed.

So every fall, we Suffolk residents seem to feel the need to rusticate — not just to soak in Nature, but to experience a type of it we never see — the Blue Ridge Mountains. Once a year is plenty, but along with the foliage, worth the expense and time.

As history has progressed, we have learned to value and learn from our environment, not just exploit it. Maybe there’s hope.

Susan and Bradford “Biff” Andrews are retired teachers and master naturalists who have been outdoor people all their lives, exploring and enjoying the woods, swamps, rivers and beaches throughout the region for many years. Email them at b.andrews22@live.com.