Speaker 1: Welcome to Bedtime Stories for grown ups, in which nothing
Speaker 1: much happens, you feel good, and then you fall asleep.
Speaker 1: All stories are written and read by me, Catherine Nikolay,
Speaker 1: with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. We only have a
Speaker 1: couple stories left in this our first season of nothing
Speaker 1: much happens, so be sure to subscribe now so you
Speaker 1: don't miss a single episode of our next season, which
Speaker 1: will come out in the fall of this year. I
Speaker 1: have so many stories to tell you about kicking through
Speaker 1: fallen leaves and the feeling of cool autumn air on
Speaker 1: your face. Stories about putting out pumpkins on front stoops
Speaker 1: and baking pies on feeling the first snowflake of the
Speaker 1: season land on your cheek. If you enjoy our stories,
Speaker 1: please share them any way you can with any one
Speaker 1: who likes relaxing and good sleep, and follow us on
Speaker 1: Facebook and Instagram for some extra coziness. Now let me
Speaker 1: say a little about how to use this podcast. I
Speaker 1: am about to tell you a bedtime story to help
Speaker 1: you relax and to ease your mind and to sleep.
Speaker 1: The story is simple and not much happens in it,
Speaker 1: and that is the idea. Just let your mind follow
Speaker 1: along with the details of what you hear and the
Speaker 1: sound of my voice. I'll tell the story twice, and
Speaker 1: I'll go a little bit slower the second time through.
Speaker 1: If you find that you are still awake at the
Speaker 1: end of the second telling, not to worry. That's just fine.
Speaker 1: You could listen again or just walk yourself back through
Speaker 1: any of the details that you remember, and before you
Speaker 1: know it, you'll be slinking down into a deep and
Speaker 1: RESTful sleep. This is a kind of brain training, and
Speaker 1: the more you do it, the more your sleep will improve.
Speaker 1: So be patient if you are new to this. Now
Speaker 1: it's time to switch off the light, set aside anything
Speaker 1: you've been working on or playing with, and settle your
Speaker 1: body into the most comfortable position that you can find.
Speaker 1: Take a slow, deep breath in through your nose and
Speaker 1: out through your mouth. Nice, do that one more time.
Speaker 1: Breathe in and out. Good. Our story to night is
Speaker 1: called a walk in the woods, and it's a story
Speaker 1: about getting far out into nature and trading in your
Speaker 1: usual cares for the sights and the sounds of the countryside.
Speaker 1: It's also about the pleasures of wandering, worldly birds, falling
Speaker 1: to the forest floor, and being alone. Sometimes nothing will do,
Speaker 1: but getting yourself deep into the woods and walking, and
Speaker 1: that was what to day was for. It was a
Speaker 1: warm morning at the end of the summer, and I
Speaker 1: was driving out to my favorite trail in a state
Speaker 1: park near my home. I went two or three times
Speaker 1: a week and walked for an hour at least, sometimes
Speaker 1: having to force myself to turn around and head back
Speaker 1: so I wouldn't be late to work or some appointment.
Speaker 1: But to day I had no other plans and no
Speaker 1: place to be, so I would wander and walk to
Speaker 1: my heart's content. The park was quiet, and I rolled
Speaker 1: the windows down as I drove slowly over the winding
Speaker 1: road to the very back where the trail, my trail began.
Speaker 1: I saw only a few other cars and bikes on
Speaker 1: my way in and nodded to each in turn. There
Speaker 1: is a quiet camaraderie among the people who hike and
Speaker 1: bike in parks. We're glad that other people are enjoying
Speaker 1: the land, but we don't want to talk. Most of
Speaker 1: what were there for is peace and quiet. I parked
Speaker 1: my car and stepped out into the humid summer air.
Speaker 1: I took a few slow breaths and pulled the clean
Speaker 1: atmosphere deep into my lungs. There is a way that
Speaker 1: the woods smell in the summer time that stops you
Speaker 1: in your tracks and gives you such a feeling of
Speaker 1: bone deep rightness that you can only stand still and
Speaker 1: let it permeate through every layer of yourself. It's the
Speaker 1: smell of potent, dark green health and abundancy, and it
Speaker 1: was all around me already. I checked my pockets. I
Speaker 1: had some peppermint lip balm, my car key, a fully
Speaker 1: charged phone and ear buds, and a flask of water.
Speaker 1: Sometimes I didn't listen to anything when I walked, especially
Speaker 1: on days when I felt overstimulated to begin with. After all,
Speaker 1: the woods supply a soundtrack that is hard to compete with.
Speaker 1: But to day I had a new book to listen to,
Speaker 1: a long tangled mystery to dip my mind into, and
Speaker 1: wandering through the story while I wandered through the woods
Speaker 1: sounded like a superb treet. The trail started out as
Speaker 1: crushed stone with fields of high grasses on either side,
Speaker 1: and it took a few minutes walk to make it
Speaker 1: into the cover of the trees and loose sight of
Speaker 1: the car. There were grasshoppers jumping in a path, and
Speaker 1: a few birds with scarlet wings and shiny black bodies,
Speaker 1: skimming over the grasses into the trees. I took my time.
Speaker 1: I followed the path at my leisure, stopping to look
Speaker 1: at flowing creeks, running my hands over a knotted birl
Speaker 1: on a tree, and listening to woodpeckers high in the
Speaker 1: branches above me, and then picking up my pace again,
Speaker 1: and feeling the pleasant fatigue in my legs and the
Speaker 1: warmth in my body. The trail was sometimes flat and even,
Speaker 1: and surrounded by ferns and hostas. Then it rose high
Speaker 1: along a hillside, and I climbed, breathing hard and looking
Speaker 1: down into the patch of tree trunks on the forest floor.
Speaker 1: I watched the whirly birds of maple trees, catching bits
Speaker 1: of sunlight as they fell. Those winged seeds. They're called samaras.
Speaker 1: I said the word aloud, Samara. Then I walked on.
Speaker 1: I listened to my story overlaying the characters and scenescapes
Speaker 1: of the book on the woods around me. The trail
Speaker 1: has short cuts and loops, and smaller paths pathlets that
Speaker 1: lead off in different directions. I took some of them
Speaker 1: and saw new spots I hadn't seen before. Who was
Speaker 1: the last person to have stood here? I wondered, Has
Speaker 1: it been years? Decades? Am I the first? The light
Speaker 1: began to change, and I felt the cool breeze of
Speaker 1: a coming rain storm. I stopped my story and tucked
Speaker 1: my earbuds into my pocket. I didn't want to miss
Speaker 1: the sound of a rising wind pushing through the leaves.
Speaker 1: I felt light and cool, and nearly ran through the
Speaker 1: trails on soft packed dirt and pine needles, and listened
Speaker 1: as rain began to fall on the canopy above me.
Speaker 1: It poured on me as I burst out of the
Speaker 1: cover of the trees and made straight for my car.
Speaker 1: The cool rain soaked into me and made me laugh
Speaker 1: and shriek as I fumbled with my key. Then I
Speaker 1: tucked down into my car, and, wiping my glasses on
Speaker 1: my shirt, tittered to myself as the rain drummed down
Speaker 1: around me. I thought for a moment of warm, dry
Speaker 1: clothes at home, a long lunch with the company of
Speaker 1: my book, and stretching out on my sofa with the
Speaker 1: windows cracked and a cool cat's paw breeze moving around me,
Speaker 1: and I started for home. Sometimes nothing will do but
Speaker 1: getting yourself deep into the woods and walking, and that
Speaker 1: was what to day was for. It was a warm
Speaker 1: morning at the end of the summer, and I was
Speaker 1: driving out to my favorite trail, an a state park
Speaker 1: near my home. I went two or three times a
Speaker 1: week and walked for an hour at least, sometimes having
Speaker 1: to force myself to turn around and head back so
Speaker 1: I wouldn't be late to work or some appointment. But
Speaker 1: to day I had no other plans and no place
Speaker 1: to be, so I would wander and walk to my
Speaker 1: heart's content. The park was quiet, and I rolled the
Speaker 1: windows down as I drove over the winding road to
Speaker 1: the very back where the trail, my trail began. I
Speaker 1: saw only a few other cars and bikes on my
Speaker 1: way in and nodded to each in turn. There is
Speaker 1: a quiet camaraderie among the people who hike and bike
Speaker 1: and parks. We're glad that other people are enjoying the land,
Speaker 1: but we don't want to talk. Most of what we're
Speaker 1: there for is peace and quiet. I parked my car
Speaker 1: and stepped out into the humid summer air. I took
Speaker 1: a few slow breaths and pulled the clean atmosphere deep
Speaker 1: into my lungs. There is a way that the woods
Speaker 1: smell in the summertime that stops you in your tracks
Speaker 1: and gives you such a feeling of bone deep rightness
Speaker 1: that you can only stand still and let it permeate
Speaker 1: through every layer of yourself. It's the smell of potent,
Speaker 1: dark green health, an abundancy, and it was all around
Speaker 1: me already. I checked my pockets. I had some peppermint
Speaker 1: lip balm, my car key, a fully charged phone and
Speaker 1: ear buds, and a flask of water. Sometimes I didn't
Speaker 1: listen to anything when I walked, especially on days when
Speaker 1: I felt overstimulated to begin with. After all, the woods
Speaker 1: supply a soundtrack that's hard to compete with. But to
Speaker 1: day I had a new book to listen to, a
Speaker 1: long tangled mystery to dip my mind into, and wandering
Speaker 1: through the story while I wandered through the woods sounded
Speaker 1: like a superb treat. The trail started out as crushed
Speaker 1: stone with fields of high grasses on either side, and
Speaker 1: it took a few minutes walk to make it into
Speaker 1: the cover of the trees and lose sight of the car.
Speaker 1: There were grasshoppers jumping in the path and a few
Speaker 1: birds with scarlet wings and shiny black bodies skim over
Speaker 1: the grasses into the trees. I took my time. I
Speaker 1: followed the path at my leisure, stopping to look at
Speaker 1: flowing creeks, running my hands over a knotted birl on
Speaker 1: a tree, and listening to woodpeckers high in the branches
Speaker 1: above me, and then picking up my pace again, and
Speaker 1: feeling the pleasant fatigue in my legs and the warmth
Speaker 1: in my body. The trail was sometimes flat and even,
Speaker 1: and surrounded by ferns and hostas. Then it rose high
Speaker 1: along a hillside, and I climbed, breathing hard and looking
Speaker 1: down into a patch of tree trunks on the forest floor.
Speaker 1: I watched the whirly birds of maple trees, catching bits
Speaker 1: of sunlight as they fell. Those winged seeds. They're called samaras.
Speaker 1: I said the word aloud, Samara. Then I walked on.
Speaker 1: I listened to my story overlaying the characters and sceneescapes
Speaker 1: of the book on the woods around me. The trail
Speaker 1: has short cuts and loops and smaller paths pathlets that
Speaker 1: lead off in different directions. I took some of them
Speaker 1: and saw new spots I hadn't seen before, who was
Speaker 1: the last person to have stood here, I wondered, has
Speaker 1: it been years? Decades? Am I the first? The light
Speaker 1: began to change and I felt the cool breeze of
Speaker 1: coming rain storm. I stopped my story and tucked my
Speaker 1: ear buds into my pocket. I didn't want to miss
Speaker 1: the sound of a rising wind pushing through the leaves.
Speaker 1: I felt light and cool, and nearly ran through the
Speaker 1: trails on soft pack dirt and pine needles, and listened
Speaker 1: as rain began to fall on the canopy above me.
Speaker 1: It poured on me as I burst out of the
Speaker 1: cover of the trees and made straight for my car.
Speaker 1: The cool rain soaked into me and made me laugh
Speaker 1: and shriek as I fumbled with the key. Then I
Speaker 1: tucked down into my car, and, wiping my glasses on
Speaker 1: my shirt, tittered to myself as the rain drummed down
Speaker 1: around me. I thought for a moment of warm, dry
Speaker 1: clothes at home, a long lunch with a company of
Speaker 1: my book and stretching out on my sofa with the
Speaker 1: windows cracked and a cool cat's paw breeze moving around me,
Speaker 1: and I started for home. Sweet dreams