The Gentle Solstice

 

     

     We gathered as the late afternoon of December 20th released its light into the soft hues of evening. The Silent Walk has often been at the end of an intense day, and it takes a few minutes for the buzzing of thoughts to slow down. The tenor of this evening was gentle--cold but no wind, clouds to catch the color, and the steady crunch of our careful steps along the path. 

      Sunday's flooding rain meant we had to reschedule the Walk to the day before the Solstice. While we lost some people, we were happy to welcome several first timers and many returning participants.

 Thank you to everyone who joined us! 

      Participants can share a few words (if they want) about the walk, and those words follow. The photographs are taken by Thom Munterich, and we thank him for his unobtrusive documentation. In combination, words and images suggest what it was like, but nothing compares to going on the walk. Please join us next time!

A perfect time to empty my mind and fill it with the beauty and peace of a silent walk.

Rush hour cares tumbling, rumbling. Water tumbling, rumbling. 

Time pauses. Life goes.

I felt disoriented seeing the sky below the land, a perfect reflection.

Enjoyed listening to my footfalls in the dark

The scary tree

Moonlight was very powerful.

White water ribbons dancing in the moonlight

Loved the symmetry. 

My favorite part is how the time slows.

The smallest shift of light, color, sound marks the moment. 

The cold air smells delicious, clean.

We ended the walk sharing some chocolate, oranges, and our thoughts. Did the holidays offer a lens through which to experience this night or was it the other way around?

My sincere thanks to

Black Rock Forest for supporting the Silent Walks! 

Special thanks to 

Brienne Chiadakis, Susanne Vondrak, and Aaron Culotta.

 Black Rock Forest is a research forest and biological field station. Their mission is to advance scientific understanding of the natural world through research, education, and conservation programs.

Please support their work by becoming a member!

      

 

Longest Day's Journey into Night

 

Elderberry flowers

    During the hours before a walk, I start craving the mental detox, the unknotting of threads that tangle my thoughts throughout the day. Sharing the experience of whatever happens along the path and at the water feels wonderful. Framed as art, we come together, each of us finding an opening to the sounds, smells, tastes, feel, light, and colors of this forest. 

  The evening of June 21st was breezy and clear. After the walk, we shared some chocolate and fruit, and participants wrote a few words for this blog if they chose. These follow with photographs and videos from the Silent Walk photographer, Thom Munterich. 

Many thanks to everyone who participated!

Click photo to enlarge.

One word to describe tonight-gratitude

pale beauty moth

Silence on the hike=all the senses kicking into high gear. 

A thousand shades of green, the smells and songs of the woods

wineberries in sepals

changing light-always wonderful

The diversity of the people matches the diversity of the leaves, the bark, the ground's texture beneath our feet. Our movements become one with the wholeness of nature, the complexity of our interdependence.

knapweed

I feel large and small. I feel calm and connected.

I want to follow the trails off the larger path.

Hearing the forest birds is lovely, different than other places--veery, wood thrush, phoebe, and a tanager. A meditative treat to listen to them talk instead of us.

remarkable

that heavenly cool breeze over the reservoir

sunset peeking through the trees--brilliant orange

the dry spillway looking like an ancient civilization

Beautiful tangerine sunset! I focused on a single dead tree, one flowering bush on the other side of the reservoir, and one lone bullfrog.

Day lingers into night

short video of Aleck Meadow June Solstice Silent Walk

I noticed I missed taking pictures more than talking...

...the wind noise, the tree leaves, birds chasing bugs across the water, straight trees, 

all the water captured by man

pink sky

crescent moon

the silence was just awesome

Nobody swam naked!

Note: Just before we started, we learned that June 21 is National Hike Naked Day.

dead ring-necked snake

The woods are full of life and death.

***

Sincere thanks to the staff at Black Rock Forest, 

especially Brienne Cliadakis, Susanne Vondrak, Aaron Culotta, and Matt Brady.  

This nearly 4000 acre forest is a living laboratory for field-based research and education that advances a scientific understanding of the natural world.  

Become a Friend of the Forest to support their great work!

The next BRF Silent Walk will be in December. Please join us!

Blue Light, Blood Moon

November's walk started in darkness as clocks were turned back just 2 days before. Honestly, walking in the dark is the best part of the Silent Walks. Plus the moon sailed high in the sky, casting the tree shadows across our path in sharp, striped relief. We offered glow bracelets to those who wanted, which are the little dots of green or blue in the photos. The clear air and wash of blue-gray moonlight felt like walking through an old movie where the night scene is actually filmed during the day, dark and bright at once.

The forest was in focus but tinted to monochrome, 

better to perceive the light.

What follows are the words offered by participants after the Walk finished. With the photographs, they intend to convey an idea of what the Walk was like. To be sure, they are markers of an experience, a way to jog the memory, but nothing compares to the full sensation of going on the Walk.

Amazing...so peaceful, so refreshing

 Gravity is much more present in the dark--feet connected to the earth, 

keeping me from falling.

With a closed mouth and an open mind, I felt 

companionship

refreshed

compassion

Thoughts rolling around like marbles in my head, 

left over from the day

 

*** 

What a profound experience to be walking in quiet community in the moonlight in this place. 

 This one was so special. When we humans are moving together, we vibrate differently. 

When we humans are silent we hear so many other voices both inside and outside ourselves. 

 I felt like the light and companionship were filling up my stores while preparing me for the dark and inward-turning season.

The moonlight and wind, dancing a tango across the water.

***

I felt the breeze a moment before

 the moonlight's sudden flash across the water, dazzled.

Diamond water, some kind of otherworld message--

felt love, universal peace

I had an excellent Silent Walk in the dark woods. 

The most amazing part I noticed was the reflection of the full moon on the reservoir water.

 The water came to life!

Thanking you from my heart.

***

As far in the woods as we were, the world never let go. 

The ambience of civilization moved across the sky,

danced with the wind, and road the darkness. 

The moonlight was very beautiful on the water. 

It really looked like something was happening out there!

The magic moon

Moonlight--like forest lamplight magic

Wind on the water,

Shadows from the moonlight.

***

The Silent Walks offer sincere thanks to Black Rock Forest,

 a living laboratory of research and education. Their work helps to preserve the Hudson Highlands environmental legacy. 

Please support Black Rock Forest by becoming a 

Friend of the Forest.

Special thanks to Brienne Cliadakis, Susanne Vondrak, Aaron Culotta, Matt Brady, and retiring executive director, Bill Schuster, PhD. 

***

My enduring gratitude to

 the Silent Walks photographer, Thom Munterich. 

***

    

A Nocturne for October

 

     How lucky we were having a Silent Walk on this perfect October night. We added this because we wanted a Silent Walk in the fall, different but consistent with the spring. The evening sounds and smells, and especially the moon rise, gave us a chance to recalibrate to forest time.

checking in

     The light was already fading as people arrived. We started in near total darkness, and witnessed a shy moon finally rise above the clouds. Walking tonight was moving through an impressionist's nocturne. Every edge was blurred, every color a soft glow. Pungent smells of decay, the constant rasp of katydids, and too many airplanes revealed the industry around us. We contain multitudes.

    The following are photographs taken by the Silent Walk photographer, Thom Munterich. Included with them are comments written by several of the participants. They offer a sense of the experience, but nothing compares to going on the walk.

 

Jupiter above us

Every time my head said, "Where am I?"

my feet said, "Right here."

Watching the moon clear the horizon made me weep involuntarily. The beauty had to be acknowledged. It was hard to turn away and continue walking.

 

 

With my eyes adjusted to the dark, when the moon rose...for a second it seemed as bright as the sun.

A curious beaver at Aleck Meadow quietly swam over to check us out, then slowly swam away, giving us a thin white wake to follow across the water's glass.  Not so the beaver at the Upper Reservoir, who startled me with each slap. Takes all kinds, I guess.

On the Silent Walk, I notice the transition between thinking and sensing. 

I noticed: How the air moves over the surface of the skin, the pockets of warmth, the smell of still water, how air thickens, the thin layers of fear and bravery when I walked by myself, how time moves differently in the woods. 

I was silent but never quiet.

 At first it was like watching a stage curtained, a slow reveal, a patient audience; and then it was like watching, waiting for a lover to disrobe, full of anticipation, and once revealed, you couldn't look away.

What hit me so hard at first-the various walks (of human history) and 

All the ways in which we walk 

To our death

To live/nomadic at first

For pleasure

In exhaustion

In unison

Alone 

Katydids made the walk different than the spring.

I liked the feeling of different textures underfoot.

Beautiful, peeking moon.

Magical walk in the dark! Can't believe how much you can see. The trees were silver!

 

 

Thanks once a again to Black Rock Forest for supporting The Silent Walks.  Special thanks to Brienne Cliadakis, Susanne Vondrak, Aaron Culotta, Angie Patterson and Matt Brady for all the ways your work has helped the forest and those (like me) who love it. 

Please support Black Rock Forest by becoming a member.

June: The Dark Walk

     The final Silent Walk of my residency at Black Rock Forest brought together the usual suspects of artists, nature-lovers, and the curious. At least 5 of the 23 were first time walkers, but we felt like old friends, chatting and laughing to get it out of our systems before starting. 

     We then walked together released from conversation, and like herd animals, only paid attention to each other's movements. The forest drew our focus.

     Along with the meditative calm one might expect, the walks require patience. To be still for so long takes self control, but offers a chance to notice the subtlety of the night--a turtle's head peeping up from the water, the circular flight of mayflies, the fading silhouette of trees on the far shore.  We are left with the memory of what we noticed, an aesthetic frame unique to each person.

     On this June night, the evening breeze kicked up texture on the water and carried bullfrog calls across the Upper Reservoir. Even though we missed the super moon, our late start meant we walked in the primordial thrill of near total darkness. Once finished, we drank a toast to Black Rock Forest, the end of the residency, and the Silent Walks. I am truly grateful for everyone who participated and for the pristine landscape we witnessed together.

     Participants have the option of writing brief thoughts about the walk, which are shared here along with photographs and videos taken by the Silent Walks photographer, Thom Munterich. Click on a photo to enlarge.

waiting for everyone to arrive

I loved seeing the last of the sunlight filter through the trees.

 

Since this was my third walk, I noticed some things I hadn't before, like the low water level, and the abundant greenery along the road.

 

toward Aleck Meadow

 

Last bits of sunlight on leaves as we started out,

Fallen, deteriorated trees with sharp branch remains pointing upward,

Sounds emanating from the woods across the lake,

A flight of fireflies on the walk back,

Champagne and chocolate.

chestnut oak (thanks, Angie)

the color of water

My favorite part tonight was all the sounds--birds on the way up and frogs and insects on the way down.   

 One thing that struck me was the abundance of birdsong that accompanied us on our walk as it was in stark contrast to our silence and much easier to hear and enjoy because of our silence. When we stopped, I watched the subtle color changes across the sky and hypnotic waves of water. As we walked back through the dusky light, I noticed the contrast of tree trunks that had changed from pale purple to deep purple as the sun disappeared.

I enjoyed listening to birds, bugs, frogs, wind, and the crunch of our feet.

 

My thoughts rising and falling like breath, getting lost in the movement of the water.

 

 The forest in the dark-so cool!

*** 

    I sincerely thank the staff of Black Rock Forest for their support, advice, and professionalism throughout my residency, especially Brienne Cliadakis, Suzanne Vondrak, Aaron Culotta, and Matt Brady.

Black Rock Forest is a living laboratory for field-based research and education, encompassing native terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems that are increasingly rare in the region. Interested in supporting the scientific understanding of the natural world through research, education and conservation? 

Become a Friend of the Forest.

 

***

 

 

 

One more thing....

 

Special thanks to Thom Munterich, the Silent Walks photographer and the oh-so-important "sweeper." He accomplished both tasks with his characteristic thoroughness and calm.