October 25th, Walking in the glow.

When I conceived of the idea of the Silent Walks, I was imagining a night like October 25th. Darkness makes the woods primordial. Our own lost contours were visual signs of the feeling of belonging: Whitman's dilation. Maybe the glowing colors of the trees in the fading twilight, and the luminosity of the river once we emerged on the bluff, and the return walk under the half moon, will be conveyed in these photographs, but the experience cannot. Consider these as documents of a memory we share but can never capture.

Note the glow-bracelet. That was important on the walk back.

The air seemed slightly colored, as if it took on all the gold and amber of the leaves overhead and underfoot. The aroma of fallen leaves and distant wood smoke filled the air. When we came out of the trees onto the bluff, I heard someone gasp and understood why--the unexpected brilliance of the evening sky reflected in the river. Lights sparkled from just below us all the way to the bridge. It was breath-taking.

Gilded domes in the forest canopy. The flat and luminous glow of October's twilight. I can forgive Maxfield Parrish.

My first Silent Walk exceeded all of my expectations...breezy, calm, meditative and incredibly inspiring and energizing!

We have to name this one, "The Glow Walk." From the glowing leaves to the glowing moon, to the flickering lights of our sleepy village, Newburgh and Beacon, to even our glow stick bracelets! The walk was the best one yet!

Red sun setting. Hearing animals and footsteps. Half moon in the sky. Darkness all around. Familiar trail. No fear.

Great sound.
(Sound recording to be posted shortly...)

At the end of the walk, we shared our thoughts and some apples. There was an awareness of the dark, but comfort in the group. The next walk is November 24, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Bring a flashlight and a friend.

Yellow tunnels

The next walk is this Sunday, October 25th at 6pm. It will be dusk, and the leaves will be both underfoot and overhead. Please come and bring a friend. This is meant to be shared.
We meet at the Storm King trail head on Mountain Rd.

September's Walk--green and gloaming

I needed this walk, almost had a thirst for the comfort of it.
Family, friends and new walkers arrived to participate, about 20 in all. The weather was perfectly appropriate--cool and a bit cloudy. Some leaves had changed, but it was still quite green. Here are the comments of those who chose to write and photographs from Thom Munterich.

We begin, youngest 9, oldest 77.

For me the Silent Walk combines the peace and tranquility of hiking alone with the comfort and safety of a group.

The silence prevented polite social chatter from overriding the energy of nature. It was just the thud of footsteps, pounding of hearts and the wonderment of the surroundings. An enlightening experience!

Thanks for the chance to step out of the 'real' world-with its endless nonsense and distractions--and into a better one.

Fourth time. New hiking shoes worked great. So many people, all trying to get the most out of it, all trying to absorb the surroundings as best they can.

A beautiful night--finally feeling like evening. Louder crickets-cooler breezes. Snakeskin on rock. Playing quietly with Max. A great way to spend a Saturday.

First Timer--It was easier to be quiet than I was afraid it would be! I was surprised. I only saw one live creature-a bird-when we were sitting. Very relaxing. I didn't want it to end!

Thanks for the opportunity to think for a while--I am so glad I came!

So cool. So beautiful.

Vines wrapped around a tree holding a gigantic broken branch precariously over the path.

Fourth time and I looked forward to the soft release, the unwinding of the day. Felt the peace well up inside and seep out. Then it all came in again--the voices in the neighborhood below, the boats, the snake skin, the clouds, the mountains and the river. Colors of dusk.

At times I felt alone, and for a moment, I felt that we were all one.

I saw a tree wrapped around another tree and I thought, "Cool, they're hugging." A couple minutes later I realized, "No, they're fighting."


Thanks to everyone who came out. The group makes the experience what it is.
Next walk is October 25, a Sunday! Please come and bring a friend.

One, two three, four...can I have a little more?

The next Silent Walk is this coming Saturday, September 26th. Finally a weekend for all those who can't make the week nights. The leaves are just starting to change. Hope to see you there and please bring a friend!
New to the walks? Find the "What When Where" post on July 2nd for all the details.

The August 27th walk

Some new, some returning walkers shared the experience. Here are their comments interspersed with photographs by Thom Munterich.

Today's Silent Walk on the Half Moon was bug free with low humidity. --Loud crunching footsteps almost in unison maybe due to dryer conditions. --Soften light with deeper shadows from the tree scape this time.

Last time I thought my daughter was the reason we walked at the back of the group, but today I realized it was me.

it is harder to be silent when i decide to be than when it just happens. enjoyed the sounds. loved the scenery.

The loudest part was my own thoughts. I don't deny myself much in life, so this verbal fasting felt very cathartic.

The walk was great! It made my sense of hearing feel like it was amplified by 100. It helped me let things disappear.

Ok, next time it's this nice out, I'm bringing my tent and staying! What a lovely evening and such a great group of people. The coolness of the air is a sign of the fall--yet no fall color in the trees. I look forward to September's walk.

Contrasts: Silent green shadows and crunching feet. No bird song. Step out from the greenness and into loud reminders of who we are: boats, trains, cars, buildings.

I allowed my senses to do the work. No thinking, just sights and sounds.


This was the most awesome night yet. Could have stayed at the lookout for hours. Amazing how green everything still is.

I didn't know what to expect. I came to support Jackie on her art path. I enjoyed the silence, especially walking with many and not having to "do" conversation. After a bit, the chatter in my mind settled down, and I thought about how much this relates to yoga. Last winter I had a minor operation on my foot, so the act of walking is deeply appreciated here. Take away something we take for granted and its significance becomes profound. The best part was sitting on the bluff, looking at the beautiful valley we live in. I've been here for 18 years from West Texas. We didn't have these privileges. We're really lucky to have such a unique view, friends, and experiences to share. Thanks!

It was hard at first to keep silent. I am an environmental educator, so that part of me wanted to blurt out, "that's a such-and-such tree" or "that's a blah-blah bush," but as we had our rest on the rock overlooking the Hudson, my thoughts finally softened. The artist in me prevailed, and I was able to truly look and listen. My steps weren't as loud--as well as my thoughts. This walk was a blessing! Thanks!

The August walk was clear and vibrantly green. The light seemed just slightly darker than July, but the weather felt closer to fall--no humidity and no bugs. The view stretched all the way to the lower Catskills, with the river etched by the wakes of chugging boats. The pulse of all these different engines (boats, cars, trains) was the bass for the occasional hawk's cry and dog bark. I had to tear my eyes from the view, but loved the walk back. Like last time, one of the walkers cleaned up the littered bottles and glass. (The deer must get pretty wild out here...)
Thanks to everyone who made the time to participate!
You were a wonderful group.
Next walk: September 26!

The Third Silent Walk on the Half Moon is this coming Thursday, August 27th at 6pm. Join us!
Parking is limited, so please carpool.
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I am so pleased that the Silent Walks on the Half Moon were part of the re:Place exhibition at Georgia College and State University. Thanks to Michelle Hudson, Exhibition Curator and Shannon Morris, Museum Curator.

Henry David Thoreau on Walking

Here is a excerpt from Thoreau's well-known speech on walking. For the complete speech, click here.
I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who
understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks -- who had a
genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word is beautifully
derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the
Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte
Terre," to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a
Sainte-Terrer," a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander. They who never go to
the Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere
idlers and vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in
the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the
word from sans terre without land or a home, which, therefore, in
the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally
at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering.
He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant
of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than
the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the
shortest course to the sea.