Winter Solstice Walk

Thomas Doty – Storyteller

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Winter Solstice on the ridge. A native moon called Split Both Ways. A smidgen more light after a dark, dark night. A time for stories in the light of a winter fire. In the dim morning, Bear is napping. Coyote is sluggish. Clouds press low. My homeland is an interior landscape. My own. I walk into the woods and watch for what spark of the dawn I can see. As I wait, I listen to the stories of my thoughts. Each word booms in the muffled morning. Each silence echoes. Sudden as a heartbeat, the forest draws a breath. And another. And another.