5 Nature Escapes Near New Orleans

There are days in New Orleans when the city hums loud—brass bands echo down the block, kids chase each other past stoops, and you can hear the clink of ice in a highball glass even from the sidewalk. I love that part of this city. It makes me feel alive. But what makes me feel whole—what keeps me grounded and soft—is the other side of New Orleans. The quiet places. The green spaces. The trails and swamps and wide, wild skies.

If you're someone who needs a moment to exhale, to touch soil, to hear birdsong over sirens, this one’s for you. These are my favorite nature escapes in or around New Orleans—each one within reach, each one holding its own kind of magic.

1. Couturie Forest, City Park

Couturie Forest is my go-to when I don’t have much time but I need to reset. It’s tucked right into City Park, but once you step into the trees, the city falls away. The trail loops past a few small hills, a pond, and what we like to call New Orleans’ highest peak—Laborde Mountain, which is really just a modest bump, but it’s ours.

This forest is quiet in a personal way. It doesn’t demand anything from you. Sometimes I bring a notebook, sometimes I just walk slow and let my feet remember they’re part of the Earth. I’ve cried here. I’ve laughed here. I’ve walked out lighter every time.

The forest changes with the season, and that makes it feel alive. In the spring, new green pushes through the understory. In fall, the light turns warm and slants differently. I like to come early in the morning, when the sun peeks through the canopy like it's trying not to wake the trees.

Trail tips: It’s a short loop—maybe a mile or so—but you can wander into the surrounding park for a longer walk. Wear bug spray and shoes that can handle mud if it rained recently.

2. Bayou Sauvage National Wildlife Refuge

There’s a stillness at Bayou Sauvage that I haven’t found anywhere else. It’s only about 30 minutes from downtown, but it feels ancient. The kind of place where time doesn’t matter.

Boardwalk trails stretch over marshland, and if you move slowly, you’ll catch glimpses of egrets lifting off like feathers from the reeds. I’ve seen alligators sunning here, but they’re quiet and unbothered. This isn’t a space you conquer—it’s one you enter gently.

This is where I go when I need to feel small in the best way. When I’m holding too much, when the inbox is too full and my heart is too loud, I come here. The wind moves through the grass like breath. The sky opens up wide. And for a while, there’s room again—for wonder, for rest, for remembering that it’s all okay.

Trail tips: Stick to the Ridge Trail or the boardwalk areas near the visitor center. Bring water, sunscreen, and binoculars if you like birding. It’s a good idea to check conditions ahead of time—sometimes it floods.

3. Audubon Park & Bird Island

Audubon Park is where I go when I want nature and comfort. The 1.8-mile loop is smooth and shaded, lined with ancient live oaks whose branches swoop down like they’re trying to touch you.

It’s a familiar, steady place. There’s something comforting about seeing the same trees in every season. The same couples walking hand in hand. The same elder on the same bench, always waving.

But tucked within Audubon is Bird Island—a small sanctuary in the lagoon where hundreds of birds roost. If you stop on the bridge around dusk, you’ll see them flutter in and settle for the night. It’s a quiet, overlooked kind of sacred. I usually pause there, just long enough to feel part of something—small and connected at once.

This loop got me through some hard seasons. When I couldn’t make big decisions, I could at least walk. When I felt disconnected, I could at least feel the sun on my skin and notice the way light played on the water.

Trail tips: Go early or late to avoid crowds. There’s water nearby and restrooms if needed. I often walk it barefoot for grounding.

4. Jean Lafitte National Historical Park & Preserve – Barataria Unit

This one is a bit of a drive—maybe 35 minutes from the city—but it’s worth every mile. Barataria Preserve is lush, wild, and unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been.

The boardwalk trails take you deep into the swamp. Cypresses rise from black water, knees poking up like sentinels. Spanish moss drapes from branches like lace. And everywhere, there’s movement—dragonflies, frogs, the occasional splash of something unseen.

The air here smells like history and earth. It’s thick with stories. I come here when I need perspective—when my mind’s been looping the same worries or I just feel heavy. This place doesn’t offer clarity in words. It gives it through scale. It reminds me there’s a whole world moving outside of me—and that I can rejoin it.

Trail tips: The Palmetto Trail and Bayou Coquille Trail are the easiest and most beautiful. Wear sunscreen and closed shoes. The bugs can be intense, but so is the peace.

5. Fontainebleau State Park

Across the lake in Mandeville, this one feels like a vacation day. It’s wide and open and full of places to rest.

There’s a sandy beach, calm lake water, and big oak trees with limbs you can lie under or climb. The trails wind through forest and along the edge of Lake Pontchartrain. You can rent cabins here, or just come for the afternoon with a book and a blanket.

What I love most about Fontainebleau is the way it invites slowness. It’s okay to do nothing here. To sit and watch the clouds shift. To snack. To nap.

One time I came here alone, I sat by the lake and watched the sun melt down. No one asked anything of me. That day didn’t fix anything, but it helped me remember how to breathe.

Trail tips: There’s a great nature trail loop and plenty of picnic spots. Bring a hammock if you have one. And stay for sunset.

Final Thoughts: Nature as a Way Back to Yourself

Sometimes I think the best parts of New Orleans aren’t the places everyone talks about. They’re the ones that ask nothing of you but your presence.

Each of these trails and parks has helped me come home to myself in a different way. They've held my grief, my joy, my transitions. They’ve reminded me that beauty isn’t always loud—and that quiet doesn’t mean empty.

If you’re someone who needs rest, slowness, beauty, or just a reason to lace up your sneakers—these places are waiting. Bring your water bottle. Bring your dog. Bring your feelings. Let the trees hold them for a while.

And if you’re visiting New Orleans or dreaming of making it your home, know this: there’s wildness here. There’s peace. There’s color and stillness and sky. There’s room for you.

If you ever want help finding a home that keeps you close to nature and community—I’d love to help.

With softness and sunlight,
Kayla

@kaylalovesnola | kaylalovesnola.com