The turn out was surprisingly low for such perfect weather, but a few people did show up to participate. Like the October walk (the other side of the winter solstice) we started out in twilight. Having a bit of light made such a difference. Unlike October when the air seemed filled with the glow of yellow leaves, the pervading color in February was blue--the snow, the shadows and the light, punctuated by glowing electric white and yellow. These two walks--October and February, have had the most magical light. The deepening shadows give rise to our own instinctual relationship to the darkness-fear and safety. The most defenseless animals come out at night because darkness offers protection that balances the risk of predators. In our woods, especially after so many walks at night, I enjoy the dark. We walk as a group-quite similar to a small herd--and the company is calming. Now after so many months, strangers who have shared multiple walks are connected in friendly, informal ways that are blossoming into friendships. For most, the self-conscious nervousness of the first experience gives way to a dilated permeance.
This is community; this is communion.
The following are comments made by the participants along with documentary photographs and recordings. They act as reminders and footnotes of an experience, but nothing beats actually taking the walk.
Please join us next month on March 23rd.
"The whirling call of an owl and the yip of what might have been a coyote made this walk extra special for me. The mist over the river made the boat lights glow. It was so peaceful watching them slowly float up river. The twilight and the snow offered plenty of light, yet I kept noticing the silhouettes of the tree branches. Glad there was no ice!"
"I am at home wherever I am." --Rumi
I did not want it to end. (I'm bringing a snowball home for the dogs.)
"Perfect night for a silent walk. Light going in and snow continued to light the way as dark settled in around us. Good sounds and tasty chocolate covered pretzels at the end!"
A word of appreciation for Barbara Gioia--Many people have faithfully attended several Silent Walks, and we love you all! It's not easy to fit these events into work/home/kids' schedules. We would like to give special recognition to Barbara Gioia (pictured above right) who has attended almost every Silent Walk. We will remember your comment about the chocolate covered pretzels.
Dog and deer tracks are everywhere.
"Not surprisingly, I feel invisible and insignificant. I actually felt terrified but also relieved. The woods were quite calm but little noises that crept towards me were not recognizable and alien."
"Today had to be the perfect day for a silent walk in the woods. Soft snow on the ground. No wind. Warm temperatures. I could have stayed all night."
Walking up to the view in the snow.
The sounds drift up from the river and the village.
Evidence of the presence of Thom Munterich, the Silent Walk's photographer.
Please join us for our next Silent Walk on March 23rd. Questions can be directed to Jackie Skrzynski.
