An Invitation

to keep going outside

Today I spent most of the afternoon outside, in the woods and on the frozen lake. (My husband and daughter were at the local downhill ski place, but I prefer to ski under my own power and uphill when at all possible. 😉) After a couple loops in the new deep snow (which proved more of a workout than I wanted on a Sunday afternoon¹), I traded skis for snowshoes. Then I tromped around in the woods and back around the lake’s perimeter one more time. I could have driven to a trail that didn’t require multiple loops to keep moving for more than twenty minutes, I suppose…there are ample parks and natural areas with miles and miles of terrain to explore in the St. Croix Valley. But something kept me close to home today, exploring what I already know. And doing so reminded me that there’s always more to learn about the place where you live if you keep going outside.

What are the woods (or beach, or tundra, or prairie, or swamp…) like where you are right now? How does the air feel? Cold, warming up, pleasant, too hot for your liking? Arid or humid? What animals can you see when you sit still or wander? Where does your gaze travel when you let it fall where it wants to? What helps you reclaim that gaze if a tiny machine² that connects to the internet tries to convince you it wants your gaze? Where do you want your attention to go? How can you be gentle with yourself as you practice redirecting when your attention strays? What keeps you going out and exploring even familiar terrain? How does going outside help? What would help you go outside for five minutes, at a time of day when you rarely do, next week?

The recording below is a reading³ from the last invitation in Collisions of Earth and Sky—that invitation to keep going outside. There’s always something more to discover.

Have a great week, folks. Share your answers to one or two of the questions posed above in the comments if you feel so moved—I’d love to hear your perspective.

And don’t forget that on Tuesday, February 28, 2023 from 7:00 pm-8:00 pm CST I’ll be reading at Live! from North Woods and Waters.

1. Fresh powdery snow is great, but when it the temp reaches 32 degrees and it’s sunny, my trusty waxless skis start accumulating snow on the bottom and it feels kind of like I imagine it would feel to ski through cement.

2. I like to leave all devices, especially the ones that are really insistent and pretty unnecessary to enjoy a woodland outing, inside the house. I don’t always do this. But when I do, I’m always glad I did.

3. Neither the recording nor the image are verbatim from the book but you get the idea. I’ve never tried putting a voice recording into a substack post, so you’ll have to let me know if you can hear it…