Go out into the woods, child, go out. Let your feet carry you on the worn path behind the house, down to the marshy shore of the lake.
Go out into the woods, child, go out. Wander into the dense tree cover, trail your hand over the bark of an adolescent maple tree, and find your shelter among the roots and branches.
Go out into the woods, child, go out. Splash through the puddles that pool at the base of the valley and listen to the call of the Sandhill crane in the fields as it stands at attention amidst the dying autumn crops.
Go out into the woods, child, go out. Lay down in the hay-field and let your gaze drift with the passing clouds as the leaves rustle their lullabies.
Go out into the woods, child, go out. Race through the blazing midday light, and once you are tired, pick up a stone and let your hand fit its shape to the smooth sun-warmed surface.
Go out into the woods, child, go out. Rest in the shade of an old oak tree and feel the wisdom and strength of deep roots and patience fill you up with something you didn’t know was missing.
Go out into the woods, child. Go out.
It happens every year in many parts of the world. The days get shorter, the gardens get tilled under, the lawnmower goes into storage. Heavy coats and hats and sweaters get pulled out of storage, and chili starts sounding good again. Frost appears in the morning grass where dew used to be, and you can see your breath when you walk around the block. And then it snows. Winter is coming.
Granted, not every place on the earth sees harsh winter weather, but plenty of places have their fair share of cold and wind and dark.Daylight in the northern hemisphere wanes as the winter solstice approaches, and sometimes if we aren’t careful, whole days can go by without feeling any sun – however cold it might be – on our faces. Cabin fever sets in, and we start to wait for spring.
But…..maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. What if we could embrace whatever Mother Nature decides to dole out and made getting outside a priority no matter how cold or wet or snowy or dark it gets? I think it’s worth it to give old man winter a little love. Because a whole season with no natural light and letting a little cold weather keep us inside? Every year? No way, man. No. Way. Life’s too good to spend it waiting for summer. Continue reading “5 Ways to Fall in Love With Winter”
Wake up to bird song, or waves or whispering pines. Open your eyes to the dawning of a new day, and wander toward voices when you are ready for company of the community.
Stretch your body, swim, kayak, run, hike. Let your body move how it wants to move as the light starts to fill the sky. Remember that you are a body and your body is you – you are partners in this life, not enemies. Continue reading “A Summer Day”
I live in Minnesota. You may have gleaned that bit of information from other blog posts on this site by now, but in case you are new here, the land of ten thousand lakes is the place I currently call home. Right now it’s May. A glorious month in a state that has a long winter and a spring that usually gets either a slow start or a false one. That’s what we had this year: a false start of a spring. It was almost 90 degrees for one day in April, with lots of days in the 60s and 70s to boot. Things started growing fast, buds popped out and flowers started hinting at blooming. We rejoiced, threw open the windows, got the boats ready, tilled up the fields….and then it got cold. The starter’s gun fired a second shot. A chilly few weeks of rain punctuated with a few nights in the low 30s made us a little nervous. But we covered things up and life went on, despite the curveball that climate change likes to throw now and then. We toed the line again, and and now it’s 75 degrees, we are running strong and the forecast for the next ten days looks just about perfect. Continue reading “Why to Love May in Minnesota”
There is something magical about watching the light of a new day spread its fingers across the sky as the horizon changes from black to dusky pink to tangerine orange to glowing yellow. Maybe it’s the ancient rhythm that persists despite increasing human impact. Maybe it’s the spectacular color show that sometimes comes with it. Maybe it’s the opportunity to live another day on an incredible planet. Maybe it’s witnessing something that is infinitely bigger than we are, but of which we are still a part. It’s probably all of those things and more. Living on a small lake with a view out the kitchen to the east has afforded me plenty of opportunity to reveal in the first new colors of the day. I am grateful for the daily opportunity to put myself in the way of beauty. After all, it’s going to show up whether I notice it or not. I think it’s better to notice.
As Cheryl Strayed once wrote, quoting her mother:
There is a sunrise and a sunset every day and you can choose to be there for it. You can put yourself in the way of beauty.
Continue reading “Sunrise”