New Path

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Speaker 1 If you're hearing this, it means you've already made sleep a priority, and that's something worth applauding. You've carved out this quiet moment to wind down.

Speaker 1 And I have something that fits beautifully into that routine. It's called Moonbird.

Speaker 1 It's a small screen-free device that gently expands and contracts in your hand, guiding your breath with a calming rhythm. You don't have to count or focus, just hold it and breathe.

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Speaker 1 Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone

Speaker 1 in which

Speaker 1 nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 You feel good

Speaker 1 and then you fall asleep.

Speaker 1 I'm Catherine Nicolai.

Speaker 1 I write and read all the stories you'll hear on Nothing Much Happens.

Speaker 1 Audio Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim.

Speaker 1 We give to a different charity each week. And this week we are giving to Undies for Everyone.

Speaker 1 Undies for Everyone provides new underwear for children living in poverty or crisis. You can learn more about them in our show notes.

Speaker 1 A special thank you to our premium subscribers. You are making this show possible.

Speaker 1 I can keep creating. Our team is paid and working, and millions of folks who need this show but can't afford to contribute don't have to worry about it going away.

Speaker 1 So shines a good deed in a weary world.

Speaker 1 Your subscription, that daim a day,

Speaker 1 has a big ripple effect.

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Speaker 1 dozens of bonus episodes, and extra long apps,

Speaker 1 click subscribe on your player or go to nothingmuchhappens.com.

Speaker 1 The first month is on us.

Speaker 1 Now.

Speaker 1 This process

Speaker 1 of listening to a bedtime story to wind down and fall asleep. It works by giving your brain a small job to do.

Speaker 1 Your brain needs a bit of gentle engagement to move out of default mode

Speaker 1 and into task positive mode where sleep is possible. All you need to do is listen.

Speaker 1 With time and regular use, the conditioned effect will become more and more reliable. I'll read the story twice,

Speaker 1 and I'll go a little slower the second time through.

Speaker 1 If you wake later in the night, don't hesitate to turn an episode back on.

Speaker 1 Our story tonight is called New Path.

Speaker 1 And it's a story about a late summer stroll through high grasses and shaded glens.

Speaker 1 It's also about cone flowers and crushed stone,

Speaker 1 lifting the hair from the back of your neck to feel the breeze,

Speaker 1 an eagle's nest lined with moss,

Speaker 1 a cool creek to wash your hands in,

Speaker 1 and feeling welcomed and at home in the wild.

Speaker 1 So lights out,

Speaker 1 devices down. down.

Speaker 1 Find your favorite sleeping position and snuggle into it.

Speaker 1 The day is over now.

Speaker 1 Whatever happened

Speaker 1 is what happened.

Speaker 1 And now we are here

Speaker 1 with nothing to do but rest.

Speaker 1 Draw a deep breath in through your nose

Speaker 1 and sigh it out. out.

Speaker 1 Nice. Again, breathe in

Speaker 1 and let it go.

Speaker 1 Good.

Speaker 1 New path.

Speaker 1 I wasn't sure I had the energy today.

Speaker 1 We were at the tail end of summer,

Speaker 1 and the heat was wearing me down.

Speaker 1 The wide open sky,

Speaker 1 as beautiful and blue as she was,

Speaker 1 felt overexposed and bleached out.

Speaker 1 And I almost ended my walk as soon as I'd started it.

Speaker 1 But then I saw a post at the corner,

Speaker 1 the one across from the coffee cart on the south side of town,

Speaker 1 a post with a small sign beside a gravel path,

Speaker 1 and my curiosity got the better of me.

Speaker 1 What does that sign say?

Speaker 1 Where does that path go?

Speaker 1 A million adventures have started this way.

Speaker 1 So I turned my weary feet toward it

Speaker 1 and shaded my eyes with my hand to read.

Speaker 1 It was just a marker

Speaker 1 with an arrow pointing down the trail.

Speaker 1 Garden Path One, it said.

Speaker 1 Well,

Speaker 1 that begged the question,

Speaker 1 what would I find at Garden Path 2?

Speaker 1 And off I went.

Speaker 1 Down a small hill,

Speaker 1 and curving to the left,

Speaker 1 I followed along

Speaker 1 at a slow, ambling pace.

Speaker 1 I kept to one edge of the path

Speaker 1 where there was a bit of shade from a line of long,

Speaker 1 slim-trunked red-bud trees.

Speaker 1 Their heart-shaped leaves were still deep green,

Speaker 1 and I wanted to come back in a month to see them then

Speaker 1 on a breezy, crisp day

Speaker 1 when the cicadas had quieted down,

Speaker 1 and the air smelled of dry grass.

Speaker 1 All around me were wild, growing switchgrass,

Speaker 1 and purple cone flowers.

Speaker 1 The milkweed had begun to dry and crack open,

Speaker 1 and the thin flowers of the coriopsis waved in the wind

Speaker 1 that was barely there.

Speaker 1 Every so often I came upon another post,

Speaker 1 marking garden paths two,

Speaker 1 three,

Speaker 1 and four.

Speaker 1 I liked that they called what grew wild

Speaker 1 and native to the soil, a garden,

Speaker 1 and that while the signs didn't give much in the way of information,

Speaker 1 they did reassure me

Speaker 1 that I was going the right way.

Speaker 1 I was still on the path.

Speaker 1 The path curved now to the right

Speaker 1 and climbed slowly up toward a line of thick woods.

Speaker 1 I always like this moment.

Speaker 1 Not that it's one you get every day.

Speaker 1 Out on a walk somewhere you haven't been before.

Speaker 1 When you can't,

Speaker 1 from where you stand,

Speaker 1 quite make out where the path is taking you.

Speaker 1 What lies ahead.

Speaker 1 Was I headed into the woods?

Speaker 1 Or would it skirt the tree line

Speaker 1 and take me into a neighborhood

Speaker 1 or even a dead end

Speaker 1 where I'd have nothing to do

Speaker 1 but turn about

Speaker 1 and retrace my steps.

Speaker 1 I could feel the heat on the back of my neck as I made my way up the rise.

Speaker 1 My hair had come loose,

Speaker 1 and I caught it up,

Speaker 1 twisting it into a knot

Speaker 1 and clipping it in place on top of my head.

Speaker 1 The sudden coolness on my shoulders felt good.

Speaker 1 A boost

Speaker 1 to make it the last few paces to the top.

Speaker 1 Another post and sign.

Speaker 1 Another arrow.

Speaker 1 Forest one.

Speaker 1 Ah,

Speaker 1 so I was headed in

Speaker 1 under a canopy of a million leaves

Speaker 1 where the sound of chirping bugs suddenly disappeared

Speaker 1 and I only heard my footsteps

Speaker 1 now on wood chips

Speaker 1 rather than crushed stone.

Speaker 1 The smell of cedar and pine rushed at me

Speaker 1 and I thought of all the sap and needles,

Speaker 1 cones and seed pods quietly working through

Speaker 1 this shady network,

Speaker 1 dispersing

Speaker 1 and protecting genes and chromosomes,

Speaker 1 drinking from the soil

Speaker 1 and waving in the wind.

Speaker 1 Had I truly

Speaker 1 nearly missed taking this walk?

Speaker 1 My steps weren't draining my cup.

Speaker 1 They were filling it.

Speaker 1 I looked for bird nests in the branches.

Speaker 1 They were hard to spot,

Speaker 1 camouflaged by leaves.

Speaker 1 And it reminded me of an eagle's nest I'd seen on the beach a few weeks before.

Speaker 1 There was a stand of birch trees up on the cliff,

Speaker 1 pale and papery,

Speaker 1 above a lonely stretch of sand

Speaker 1 And in one

Speaker 1 was a nest as big around as my kitchen table.

Speaker 1 I gaped at it,

Speaker 1 then,

Speaker 1 even more agog,

Speaker 1 spotted the eagle,

Speaker 1 talons wrapped powerfully

Speaker 1 around a long branch,

Speaker 1 surveying the shoreline.

Speaker 1 I dread that Aries like this

Speaker 1 could weigh up to a ton

Speaker 1 that they were built with branches as big around as a forearm,

Speaker 1 and were lined with moss and corn

Speaker 1 If I were an eagle,

Speaker 1 that would be the coziest place I could imagine.

Speaker 1 After a few minutes, the eagle had tipped from the branch,

Speaker 1 spreading his wings to catch the updraft and soaring away.

Speaker 1 I wondered if that felt like riding down a hill on your bicycle.

Speaker 1 The rush of air around you on a clear head.

Speaker 1 In the dark of the woods,

Speaker 1 the white sign on the post stood out

Speaker 1 and I could see a patch of waving high grass

Speaker 1 through the tree trunks as I came closer.

Speaker 1 The patch was a wide, open field.

Speaker 1 And suddenly I wanted to be right in the middle of it.

Speaker 1 I raced down the path, into the meadow,

Speaker 1 and opened my arms,

Speaker 1 spinning in circles,

Speaker 1 and drinking in the joy I felt just being there.

Speaker 1 How had nearly the whole summer gone by

Speaker 1 without me finding myself

Speaker 1 out in a field,

Speaker 1 ringed by trees,

Speaker 1 breathing in

Speaker 1 the sweet,

Speaker 1 sun-dried, weedy smell.

Speaker 1 The sun was tilting toward the horizon,

Speaker 1 and a shaft of light cut through the crown of trees

Speaker 1 to light up a single corner of the field.

Speaker 1 The path came close to it,

Speaker 1 but never quite

Speaker 1 crossed into it

Speaker 1 And I loved the perspective it it gave me

Speaker 1 as I walked in the shade.

Speaker 1 The tall foxtail barley was ripe.

Speaker 1 The green of the stems

Speaker 1 had been replaced with a golden shade,

Speaker 1 shot through with a bit of silver,

Speaker 1 and the light struck it

Speaker 1 like in an art-house movie.

Speaker 1 Garden, forest,

Speaker 1 field.

Speaker 1 What else can a person need?

Speaker 1 When I heard the trickle,

Speaker 1 I smiled.

Speaker 1 Of course.

Speaker 1 A bit of water, please.

Speaker 1 That would be the wax seal

Speaker 1 on this perfect walk.

Speaker 1 A thin creek,

Speaker 1 just wide enough to be crossed in two strides,

Speaker 1 wound through the meadow.

Speaker 1 The sound was like rain on cobblestones,

Speaker 1 but so quiet I could barely hear it

Speaker 1 over the rippling grasses.

Speaker 1 I followed followed the water,

Speaker 1 watching where it washed over rocks and roots,

Speaker 1 and where the last post was driven into the ground,

Speaker 1 pointing me back to garden path one,

Speaker 1 back to where I started.

Speaker 1 I squatted down beside it.

Speaker 1 I slipped my ring from my finger and into my pocket

Speaker 1 and plunged both hands into the water.

Speaker 1 I'd read somewhere

Speaker 1 that you can cool yourself quickly

Speaker 1 by running cold water over your wrists

Speaker 1 since the veins there are close to the surface

Speaker 1 they can carry the coolness into your body.

Speaker 1 I didn't know if there was any truth to it,

Speaker 1 but it felt

Speaker 1 absolutely heavenly.

Speaker 1 I washed my hands in the running water,

Speaker 1 gliding them over one another,

Speaker 1 washing water up my forearms, and pressing my cool palms against the back of my neck.

Speaker 1 A few drops ran down my back, and I shivered

Speaker 1 and chuckled to myself.

Speaker 1 We marvel sometimes

Speaker 1 at how perfectly the world suits us,

Speaker 1 how the design on the moth's wings

Speaker 1 matches exactly

Speaker 1 some flower in its rainforest,

Speaker 1 how webs of life

Speaker 1 fit like puzzle pieces

Speaker 1 in their environments and among each other,

Speaker 1 how an hour with trees and grass and water

Speaker 1 can reset

Speaker 1 the human heart.

Speaker 1 But of course it does.

Speaker 1 We've all grown up together here.

Speaker 1 We are family.

Speaker 1 New path.

Speaker 1 I wasn't sure I had the energy today.

Speaker 1 We were at the tail end of summer,

Speaker 1 and the heat was wearing me down.

Speaker 1 The wide open sky,

Speaker 1 as beautiful and blue as she was,

Speaker 1 felt overexposed

Speaker 1 and bleached out,

Speaker 1 and I almost ended my walk

Speaker 1 as soon as I'd started it.

Speaker 1 But then

Speaker 1 I saw a post at the corner,

Speaker 1 the one across from the coffee cart

Speaker 1 on the south side of town,

Speaker 1 a post with a small sign beside a gravel path

Speaker 1 And my curiosity

Speaker 1 got the better of me

Speaker 1 What does that sign say?

Speaker 1 Where does that path go?

Speaker 1 A million adventures have started this way

Speaker 1 So I turned my weary feet toward it

Speaker 1 and shaded my eyes

Speaker 1 with my hand to read.

Speaker 1 It was just a marker

Speaker 1 with an arrow pointing down the trail.

Speaker 1 Garden Path One,

Speaker 1 it said.

Speaker 1 Well

Speaker 1 that begged the question

Speaker 1 What would I find

Speaker 1 at Garden Path Two?

Speaker 1 And off I went

Speaker 1 Down a small hill

Speaker 1 and curving to the left

Speaker 1 I followed along

Speaker 1 at a slow,

Speaker 1 ambling pace.

Speaker 1 I kept to one edge of the path

Speaker 1 where there was a bit of shade

Speaker 1 from a line of young, slim-trunked

Speaker 1 red-bud trees.

Speaker 1 Their heart-shaped leaves were still deep green,

Speaker 1 and I wanted to come back in a month

Speaker 1 to see them then

Speaker 1 on a breezy, cool day

Speaker 1 when the cicadas

Speaker 1 had quieted down

Speaker 1 and the air smelled of dry grass.

Speaker 1 All around me

Speaker 1 were wild growing switchgrass

Speaker 1 and purple cone flowers.

Speaker 1 The milkweed had begun to dry

Speaker 1 and crack open,

Speaker 1 and the thin flowers of the coriopsis waved in the wind

Speaker 1 that was barely there.

Speaker 1 Every so often

Speaker 1 I came upon another post

Speaker 1 marking garden paths two,

Speaker 1 three,

Speaker 1 and four.

Speaker 1 I liked that they called what grew wild and native

Speaker 1 to the soil

Speaker 1 a garden,

Speaker 1 and

Speaker 1 that

Speaker 1 while the signs didn't give much

Speaker 1 in the way of information,

Speaker 1 they did reassure me

Speaker 1 that I was going the right way.

Speaker 1 I was still on the path.

Speaker 1 It curved now to the right

Speaker 1 and climbed slowly up

Speaker 1 toward a line of thick woods.

Speaker 1 I always like this moment.

Speaker 1 Not that it's one you get every day.

Speaker 1 out on a walk somewhere you haven't been before

Speaker 1 when you can't

Speaker 1 from where you stand

Speaker 1 quite make out

Speaker 1 where the path is taking you

Speaker 1 what lies ahead

Speaker 1 was I headed into the woods

Speaker 1 Or would it skirt the tree line

Speaker 1 and take me into a neighborhood

Speaker 1 or even

Speaker 1 a dead end

Speaker 1 where I'd have nothing to do

Speaker 1 but turn about

Speaker 1 and retrace my steps.

Speaker 1 I could feel the heat on the back of my neck

Speaker 1 as I made my way

Speaker 1 up the rise.

Speaker 1 My hair had come loose,

Speaker 1 and I caught it up,

Speaker 1 twisting it into a knot,

Speaker 1 unclipping it in place

Speaker 1 on top of my head.

Speaker 1 The sudden coolness on my shoulders felt good.

Speaker 1 A boost

Speaker 1 to make it the last few paces to the top.

Speaker 1 Another post and sign.

Speaker 1 Another arrow.

Speaker 1 Forest one.

Speaker 1 So

Speaker 1 I was headed in

Speaker 1 under a canopy

Speaker 1 of a million leaves

Speaker 1 Where the sound of chirping bugs

Speaker 1 suddenly disappeared

Speaker 1 And I only heard my footsteps

Speaker 1 now on wood chips

Speaker 1 rather than crushed stone.

Speaker 1 The smell of cedar

Speaker 1 and pine

Speaker 1 rushed at me,

Speaker 1 and I thought of all the sap

Speaker 1 and needles,

Speaker 1 cones and seed pods

Speaker 1 quietly working

Speaker 1 through this

Speaker 1 shady network,

Speaker 1 dispersing

Speaker 1 and protecting genes

Speaker 1 and chromosomes,

Speaker 1 drinking from the soil

Speaker 1 and waving in the wind.

Speaker 1 Had I truly

Speaker 1 nearly missed taking this walk?

Speaker 1 My steps weren't draining my cup.

Speaker 1 They were filling it.

Speaker 1 I looked for birds' nests

Speaker 1 in the branches.

Speaker 1 They were hard to spot,

Speaker 1 camouflaged by leaves

Speaker 1 And it reminded me of an eagle's nest

Speaker 1 I'd seen on the beach

Speaker 1 a few weeks before.

Speaker 1 There was a stand of birch trees

Speaker 1 up on a cliff,

Speaker 1 pale and papery

Speaker 1 above a lonely stretch of sand

Speaker 1 and in one

Speaker 1 was a nest

Speaker 1 as big around

Speaker 1 as my kitchen table.

Speaker 1 I gaped at it

Speaker 1 then

Speaker 1 even more agog,

Speaker 1 spotted the eagle

Speaker 1 talons wrapped powerfully

Speaker 1 around a long branch,

Speaker 1 surveying the shoreline.

Speaker 1 I'd read that Aries like this one

Speaker 1 could weigh

Speaker 1 up to a ton,

Speaker 1 that they were built with branches

Speaker 1 as big around as a forearm

Speaker 1 and were lined with moss

Speaker 1 and corn stalks.

Speaker 1 If I were an eagle,

Speaker 1 that would be the coziest place

Speaker 1 I could imagine.

Speaker 1 After a few minutes,

Speaker 1 the eagle had tipped from the branch,

Speaker 1 spreading his wings

Speaker 1 to catch the updraft

Speaker 1 and soaring away

Speaker 1 I wondered if that felt like riding downhill

Speaker 1 on your bicycle

Speaker 1 The rush of air around you

Speaker 1 And a clear head

Speaker 1 In the dark of the woods

Speaker 1 The white sign on the post

Speaker 1 stood out,

Speaker 1 and I could see a patch

Speaker 1 of waving high grass

Speaker 1 through the tree trunks

Speaker 1 as I came closer.

Speaker 1 The patch was a wide open field.

Speaker 1 And suddenly

Speaker 1 I wanted to be right in the middle of it.

Speaker 1 I raced down the path

Speaker 1 into the meadow

Speaker 1 and opened my arms,

Speaker 1 spinning in circles,

Speaker 1 and and drinking in the joy I felt

Speaker 1 just being there

Speaker 1 How had nearly the whole summer gone by

Speaker 1 without me finding myself

Speaker 1 out in a field

Speaker 1 ringed by trees

Speaker 1 Breathing in

Speaker 1 the sweet,

Speaker 1 sun-dried,

Speaker 1 weedy smell.

Speaker 1 The sun was tilting toward the horizon,

Speaker 1 and a shaft of light

Speaker 1 cut through the crown of trees

Speaker 1 to light up a single corner of the field.

Speaker 1 The path came close to it,

Speaker 1 but never quite crossed into it.

Speaker 1 And I loved the perspective it gave me

Speaker 1 as I walked in the shade.

Speaker 1 The tall foxtail barley

Speaker 1 was ripe.

Speaker 1 The green of the stems

Speaker 1 had been replaced with a golden shade,

Speaker 1 shot through

Speaker 1 with a bit of silver,

Speaker 1 and the light struck it

Speaker 1 like in an art house movie.

Speaker 1 Garden,

Speaker 1 forest,

Speaker 1 field.

Speaker 1 What else could a person need?

Speaker 1 When I heard the trickle,

Speaker 1 I smiled.

Speaker 1 Of course,

Speaker 1 a bit of water, please.

Speaker 1 That would be the wax seal

Speaker 1 on this perfect walk,

Speaker 1 a thin creek,

Speaker 1 just wide enough to be crossed

Speaker 1 in two strides,

Speaker 1 wound through the meadow.

Speaker 1 The sound was like rain on cobblestones,

Speaker 1 but so quiet

Speaker 1 I could barely hear it

Speaker 1 over the rippling grasses.

Speaker 1 I followed the water,

Speaker 1 watching where it washed

Speaker 1 over rocks and roots,

Speaker 1 and where the last post

Speaker 1 was driven into the ground,

Speaker 1 pointing me back

Speaker 1 to Garden Path One

Speaker 1 Back to where I started.

Speaker 1 I squatted down beside it.

Speaker 1 I slipped my ring from my finger

Speaker 1 and into my pocket

Speaker 1 and plunged both hands

Speaker 1 into the water.

Speaker 1 I'd read somewhere that you can cool yourself quickly

Speaker 1 by running cold water over your wrists,

Speaker 1 since the veins there

Speaker 1 are close to the surface

Speaker 1 and they carry the coolness

Speaker 1 into your body.

Speaker 1 I didn't know if there was any truth to it,

Speaker 1 but it felt absolutely heavenly.

Speaker 1 I washed my hands in the running water,

Speaker 1 gliding them over one another,

Speaker 1 washing the water

Speaker 1 up my forearms

Speaker 1 and pressing my cool palms

Speaker 1 against the back of my neck.

Speaker 1 A few drops

Speaker 1 ran down my back,

Speaker 1 and I shivered

Speaker 1 and chuckled to myself

Speaker 1 we marvel sometimes

Speaker 1 at how perfectly the world suits us

Speaker 1 how the design on the moth's wings

Speaker 1 matches exactly

Speaker 1 some flower in its rainforest

Speaker 1 How webs of life

Speaker 1 fit like puzzle pieces

Speaker 1 in their environments and among each other.

Speaker 1 How an hour with trees and grass and water

Speaker 1 can reset the human heart.

Speaker 1 But

Speaker 1 of course it does.

Speaker 1 We've all grown up together here.

Speaker 1 We are family.

Speaker 1 Sweet dreams.