So Much Rain

It’s been raining. A lot. If you’re in southeast Queensland, you probably know exactly what I mean—we’re all getting a bit over it, to be honest. But despite the soggy conditions, I recently went on an overnight hike that turned out to be as memorable for the deep connections as it was for the weather…and the leeches.

Hitting the Trail

Our small group set out to tackle part of the Sunshine Coast Hinterland Great Walk. We chose a section of the northern loop, with plans to camp overnight at one of the designated campgrounds. Normally, this loop includes five river crossings—nothing too daunting. But with all the rain, we’d been warned the water might be up to chest height in some spots. Not keen to swim with our backpacks, we decided on a safer out-and-back route that included just one river crossing.

Even then, the river was knee-deep and flowing fast. The waterfalls roared so loudly we had to shout to be heard. And yet, in the midst of all this wild water and wind, something beautiful happened.

Connection Through Movement

We talked.

There’s something about walking in nature that opens people up. Maybe it’s the rhythm of movement or the sense of being part of something bigger. Conversations flowed easily among us—a group of near-strangers—and by the end of the day, we’d swapped stories, shared laughs, and even started planning future adventures together.

I’ve always found that being in nature helps people connect—not just with others, but with themselves. Moving through a forest, climbing a hill, or simply listening to the rain can clear the mental clutter and allow space for reflection. Sometimes, it even creates room for those difficult or deeply emotional conversations we might not otherwise have.

The Leeches Arrive

But back to the leeches.

They were everywhere. On the trail, under leaves, lurking at the campsite. During the hike itself, I was prepared—long pants, insect repellent, and socks pulled high. But once we stopped, it was a different story. They were on my groundsheet. Outside the tent. Waiting.

As night fell and the rain kept coming, I focused on setting up camp, cooking dinner in the drizzle, and carefully keeping everything leech-free inside the tent. After eating, I sealed every trace of food into dry bags, tied it up in a tree, and hoped no curious critters would decide my gear—or limbs—were worth investigating.

Thankfully, the strategy worked. I woke to a dry, peaceful tent—and a sunrise that made all the hassle worth it. Coffee in hand, watching the world wake up, I felt incredibly grateful.

From Anxiety to Curiosity

Still, the leeches stuck with me (figuratively, this time). I started wondering: Why do they bother me so much? And as I often encourage others to do, I turned to curiosity instead of fear. I looked them up. Here’s what I found:

Leeches are vital to aquatic ecosystems. They help break down decaying vegetation and animal remains, recycling nutrients back into the environment.

They’re indicators of healthy water systems—a high leech population often signals a thriving ecosystem.

They even contribute to sustainable farming by controlling pest populations, reducing the need for chemical pesticides.

And yes, they have medical uses too (if you’re game, look it up—but fair warning, the images aren’t for the squeamish!).

Reframing Fear Through Learning

Understanding their role made a difference. My anxiety lessened as I realized they aren’t just creepy nuisances—they’re part of a bigger, important picture. It reminded me of something I often share with others: when you feel fear, ask yourself if it’s coming from the unknown. Then try to learn more. Knowledge doesn’t erase fear entirely, but it can transform it into respect or even appreciation.

This is a useful exercise, especially in the face of climate anxiety. The more you learn, the more you’ll discover that there are positive actions happening—people working hard, solutions emerging. What you choose to focus on matters.

Want to Walk and Talk?

If this story resonates with you, and you’d like to explore your thoughts and emotions while reconnecting with nature, I offer walk and talk sessions outdoors. Sometimes, a trail and a little conversation are all you need to find your footing again.

Feel free to reach out—I’d love to walk and talk with you.