• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content

Walks with Asha

Reflections, insights and observations inspired by walking with a dog named Asha

  • HOME
  • ABOUT
    • Meet Asha and Marilyn
    • The story behind the blog
    • Acknowledgments and gratitude
  • STORIES
  • FIELD NOTES
    • Spring 2022
    • Winter 2021/2022
    • Late Fall 2021
    • Early Fall 2021
    • Summer 2021
    • Spring 2021
    • Winter 2020/2021
    • Fall 2020
  • SUBSCRIBE
  • CONTACT

Field Notes: Late Fall 2021

early snow on beech leaves

I almost said

“How are you?” my friend Sarah asks as we walk along the river and across a hayfield with our dogs, Bean and Asha.

After a pause, I reply, “I almost said, ‘I’m better, thanks,’ but that implies something was wrong. There’s nothing wrong about the anger that has been churning within, uncomfortable though it has been. Today the churning is quieter.”

Letter to myself after reading Hafiz

(With thanks to Debora Seidman for the writing prompt.)

Why You Came Here

You, that came to birth in order to bring the mysteries back to life
All of you who came to life to bring the wonder back
Your voice, your song makes all the creatures very happy
So please start singing from your soul

– Hafiz

You came to experience and express wonder.
You came to sing from your soul.

You question whether this matters in a climate crisis that is so big and it feels like nothing will change, especially because humans in the Global North are so entrenched in their consumer ways.

What matters now is that you consider that expressing your anger is a form of singing from your soul. Your hurt soul. Music isn’t always harmonious and melodic. Clashing cymbals, pounding drums, the baritone notes of the euphonium you used to play can give your song life.

What matters now is that you explore this anger with the same gentleness, wonder and curiosity with which you explored the seed pod you found on your walk – turning the tan sphere around in your hand, touching the prickly exterior, peering into the loofah-like interior.

Your soul is angry.
Your heart is hurt, broken.

Sing about that on a mid-December day when it’s 54°F.

First snow

Finally! Oh, the joy of anticipation as I bundle up for our walk.

Asha and I are the first dog and human to leave our tracks in the snow along this section of the trail this morning. We smell and see evidence of furry four-leggeds and feathered two-leggeds and my heart smiles, then greets the tiny birch seeds scattered on this fresh canvas like familiar friends.

Later I slip on a rock, hidden beneath this white layer, and remember snow’s ability to both reveal and conceal.

You may also like

Fall 2020 – On a path; Treasure; November

Winter 2020/2021 – Circle in the snow; Snow: Beyond shoveling; Returning

Spring 2021 – A change within; How I spent the morning; Glide; The time it takes; A glimpse

Summer 2021 – Stretching lessons; No stepping stones; A red-feathered lesson in priorities

Early Fall 2021 – Second annual Gentian Day; Sitting with Tea and Tang; Eyes-closed listening; Not alone: Companions in the woods; Learning a new language: Then and now

Winter 2021/2022 – Breadcrumbs; But then, so when, and then; Winter visitors; My inner three-year-old meets ice; Tender hope, holy beauty

Spring 2022 – Wings; Pink joy of spring; Wondering: One walk, one afternoon; A new-to-us trail; Companions after a sleepless night

Get new stories delivered to your inbox.

You’ll receive the full story in your email along with links to listen or read online each time a new story is written and recorded. From time to time you’ll also receive selected Field Notes, short curated pieces from my journals.

 

You can read my privacy policy here.

 

Your voice helps me settle into storytime, which is one of the most loving, safe and calm places for me to be.

-Maggie Katz
West Stockbridge, Massachusetts

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Privacy Policy

Copyright © 2022 Marilyn Webster | Contact | All Rights Reserved | Privacy Policy | Acknowledgments