Summer has come, but our three boys seem to have forgotten what outdoors is for. Whatever happened to spider collecting, mud pies and skidding the length of the paddling pool? Are they too old? Am I too old? I yearn for the days of clearing collections of sticks, slugs and dead flowerheads from the kitchen doorway.

A weekend in a cabin in Hampshire's Blackwood Forest offers hope – but the boys' initial reaction is depressingly urban. They're most excited about the fact you can order pizza through the TV, and as we uncrumple sweatily from the car, Ben (aged nine) shoots ahead through the door and yells, "It's got underfloor heating!"

Then Joe (seven) bursts into the kitchen and shrieks, "It's got a microwave! You're the best parents ever!" We're delighted, obviously, but also a little confused, not least because it is forecast to be the hottest weekend of the year.

The boys peel off their clothes and vault into the cabin's generously dimensioned hot tub; Joe puts the jets on and reassures us that's not him farting. We order the legendary pizza ("through the TV, mum!") and settle down to one of 70-odd films also offered by the mystical screen. As yet, all that nature out there has barely got a second glance.

Admittedly, you could never call this camping. Forest Holidays leases land from the Forestry Commission on which to build deluxe, eco-friendly wooden cabins – some with connecting treehouses. The Blackwood Forest location only opened in the spring; we are hidden in a 270-hectare forest of towering beech trees accompanied by tawny owls, roe deer and a glorious feeling of tranquility.

Countless studies have shown the positive effect that trees have on our mental wellbeing. In one, carried out in a hospital intensive care unit, researchers found that just looking at pictures of trees and water could reduce patient anxiety and the need for pain medication. Another study found that children living in greener environments had better attention spans and a greater ability to delay gratification. After carrying out my own studies, while lying in the hot tub staring up into the rustling green tree canopy, I can exclusively confirm these findings: I was calmer, happier and easily capable of delaying getting up to look for chocolate in the kitchen. It's all down to the trees, honestly.

After a sleep deeper than any I've experienced in a tent, we head for the Forest Retreat, ostensibly just to collect freshly baked chocolate croissants for breakfast. But while we oldies pause for coffee, the woods and sunlit meadow around us cast their spell, and the boys are suddenly off, transformed into brave explorers. From between the trees, we glimpse occasional flashes as they holler after one another.

A quarter of an hour later, Joe and Ben rematerialise beside the table, eyes like saucers. "We found snakes! Three!" Around the meadow, they show us mats that have been laid down in the long grass; when you carefully lift them ("I saw it on Deadly 60," says Sam, 11, in his most casual voice), lying curled up underneath are tiny coiled bodies. Snakes? Adders? The boys insist they've seen adders, glass snakes and grass snakes, but the cycle-hire man tells me quietly that they're most likely to be slow worms. "This is a conservation area for them."

We spend the morning pedalling along tracks through the sunlight-dappled forest. Joe roars off whooping like a banshee, and is only ever spotted when – as if the cycling wasn't enough – he stops to test out one of the "natural" exercise machines that line the route, before pedalling frantically away again. But after an initial burst, Ben drops back to my side: "I like the chat," he says as we amble along. I am very happy.

The afternoon is spent shelter-building, compass-reading and fire-making with one of the lovely Forest Rangers, Colette Storer. I'm quite proud of what we come up with, but Joe, finally, looks a bit weary, and I want to conserve energy for our night nature walk, where, to general wild excitement, we will be using night-vision goggles to look for wildlife.

Our dreams of Terminator-style visuals are, however, a little overblown; despite much concentrated staring through our monoculars (make sure the infra-red button is on!), the forest remains frustratingly quiet. Sam loves it but after half an hour or so, Ben and Joe's attention wanes and the three of us head back to the cabin. We hear a tawny owl and spot a fox on the way, which turns out to be more than the night-time group see; the deer are not feeling it tonight.

After another wonderful night's sleep, we take a last stroll around the meadow, the boys still hunting feverishly for snakes. In philosophical mood, Ben asks, "Would you still be proud of us if we were serial killers?" Anxious to answer correctly, I tell him, "I would love you but not be proud of you." Ben smiles gently: "Don't worry mum, I'm not going to be a serial killer." Joe: "If I was a serial killer, I would kill cereal."

Sam gives up on the snakes for now and asks, "Can you click your heels, Ben?" He demonstrates and they all spring competitively into action, jumping and clicking. And I stand in the forest sunshine, surrounded by my lovely boys, leaping and surging as if they are about to take flight.

Forest Holidays

Forest Holidays is co-owned by the Forestry Commission, and a key part of its ethos is to preserve woodland for future generations. A weekend break in Blackwood Forest Forest, Hampshire, in a luxury three-bedroom Golden Oak cabin starts from £559; a week costs from £796. Book a break for August and save 20% by quoting "Guardian"; for September onwards the discount is 10%. Call 0845 130 8223 or visit www.forestholidays.co.uk/guardian