The sheer joy of bundling up in a coat with a knit cap, thermal gloves, wool socks and laced-up shoes envelopes me during the quiet days of December. At a time when the afternoon shadows grow long and the sky in the evening is stitched with the sparkle of Venus, Orion, Gemini  and a glowing moon, there is so much wonder at hand. It is a gift that awaits me regardless of whether I choose to receive it. How grateful I am for a strong body to stand on two feet, legs that enable me to amble down the path through our three acres of woods, ears that can hear the ruckus of blue jays in the underbrush, and eyes that can see the boughs of Virginia pine and winter berries that dot the landscape. On some days the smell of wood burning wafts from a chimney. The signs of the  late days of autumn are all around me and I love it. The daylight hours are fleeting. The winter solstice will soon be here.  Christmas is coming. 

On Christmas day after the gifts are opened, the wrappings have been cleared,  and good food is shared I’ll lace up my shoes and go for a walk. All is still. The roads are quiet. Some of my family may join me. They know how much I treasure a walk with them and how much I treasure the bonds that are formed by sharing steps in the natural world.  I believe relationships are enriched by walking.

Psychologist Mary Pipher taught me this truth years ago when she stressed that healing comes to those who walk together. Whether alone or with others I’ll enjoy this gift and all that it has to give me – the feeling of being alive, the wonder of the moments, the presence of beauty in the winter landscape and the way these walks seem to extend time. Such simple gifts to be sure, but gifts that give my life meaning and purpose.

I’m aware on these winter walks that the world seems magical whether I’m walking behind my house along Little Tuckahoe Creek, or circling Echo Lake in Henrico County, or meandering around the grounds of Maymont Park in Richmond. Perhaps, it’s the bite of cold air on my cheeks, or the crunch of the fallen leaves under my feet, or the fox that dashes across my path in the early morning hours. It’s a sensory overload – my heart beating, blood rushing through my veins, and the overwhelming feeling of being alive. These walks and days invite reflection and contemplation. Words of unformed poems float through my mind and prayers whirl around my head.

As naturalist John Muir aptly said, “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.” All of the burdens and the unanswered questions of the days past float away as I enjoy what is at hand in this moment. Walking seems to have a unique ability to sift through the worries and let what matters remain.  It is all a magnificent gift, and for this I am grateful. 

December has the clarity, the simplicity, and the silence you need for the best fresh start of your life.

~Vivian Swift