Smelling the Atmosphere, Learning Nature’s Language

January 2026 Walk Journal

The snow purifies the air.

Pastor Sonya Marie Jones

1–2–26

Sometimes nature is louder than the audio I’m listening to.

Walter P o.p. Matthews IV

Happy New Year! It’s 2026, and I had planned on walking on the first day of the year, but God definitely laughs at our plans. When my body is tired or resisting, it’s probably not meant to be.

It was 5:00 in the morning, and it started to snow, so that would’ve been an excellent time to walk and bask in the winter wonderland, leaving a thin dusty covering on the pavement, the grass, and the trees.

Again, I wasn't feeling it, so I decided to relax on New Year’s Day. I then spontaneously watched an episode of Oprah’s podcast that really addressed spiritual hygiene and cleansing, and it was so appropriate for starting a fresh new year.

If I had walked, I would’ve missed the on-time gems of enlightenment that not only blessed me but also passed on the link to my Mother, and when she watched it, even pivoted her onto a new path of purpose.

She’s taught me from a baby to an adult, and she’s not too prideful to learn something new from me. That’s why she’s still growing like a tree planted by the water. Now I’m going to get into why I chose those two quotes, with the first one from my Mother, Sonya Rie.

The snow purifies the air

Pastor Sonya Marie Jones

When we were talking about the morning snow, when she said that, it made so much sense to me. Just stepping out on the rooftop and taking a deep exhale, I felt the purity in the cold air.

We’re currently in a time when there’s the typical fear-mongering about a “new” super flu. I’m so used to hearing people talk about flus and sickness when it’s cold outside.

Germs and sickness come from not washing your hands and, most likely, from closed, warm spaces. It’s nice to hear something innovative that makes sense for a change.

My Mother’s quote was the poetic foundation that I needed, which helped me write this journal. This innovative woman has been adding to my imagination and creativity since she took me to see Star Wars as a child.

Now on to my personal quote, which summarizes the theme of this walk journal.

Sometimes nature is louder than the audio I’m listening to.

Walter P.o.p. Matthews IV

I woke from a solid night of good rest underneath my projected earth on my ceiling. I was ready for a new day, but still uncertain whether I would walk because I had to take care of some business early.

When I stepped out onto my rooftop to check the weather, I looked at the clouds, smelled the cold air, and felt a green light in my spirit to take a walk. It’s a confirming feeling I didn't get on New Year's Day.

It’s like nature speaks a language that is becoming clearer to me. I have conversations in the sanctuary of stillness. When I’m in rhythm and harmony, I get all of the benefits of a creative flow state.

So I bundle up and head out on my first walk adventure of 2026. I feel so rested and energized and I walk a quiet neighborhood that’s still taking advantage of sleeping in on a holiday break.

I put in my earphones. Turn on my walk tracker. Then turn on the audio of one of my favorite content creators. Usually, I take all of the awe-inspiring pictures around me. It was something different this morning.

My focus kept shifting.

As I walked, I kept finding myself having to rewind what I was listening to. Why? My ideas drowned out what the speaker was saying. I couldn’t contain the army of lightbulbs that were lighting up in my head.

Then, for the first time on my walks, Mother Nature, aka My Outdoor Canvas, spoke to me in a clear, calm voice. She said to me, "You won’t be needing to listen to that. I have another channel for you today.”

So I took my earphones off. I then put them in the charging case and tuned into the frequency that was suggested to me. It was an abundant ambient soundscape. A serene symphony. A Sonic safe place. It was all I needed. It was more than enough for me.

The Twilight, The Horizon And Perspective 

A clear, cold January walk Journal Part 2

As I stand on the top of the hill in one of my favorite deserted-feeling neighborhoods, blocks

Seeing the horizon on a clear morning from the perspective 

Or being on top of a mountain 

Looking at the beautiful valley is awe-inspiring 

There’s nothing in this world more beautiful 

Than a sky at night or in the morning 

Free of clouds.

There are just fading stars and planets, gradually fading into the blue void, and I see a layer of orange covering the curvature of the Earth. I see why wealthy people choose homes in the hills with those views, where they can see as far as the eye can see. 

My Mother has a wealthy mindset because she chose homes twice that offered views that sparked both of our imaginations. The first time was my senior year of high school, when we moved to an apartment complex deep in the woods on the 3rd floor, and I remember how peaceful it was to look out the balcony window.

Watching the trees sway would put me in a state of euphoria. Then, years later, I moved into my first place, and she moved into a house in the same neighborhood I’m walking through right now. She can sit on her porch and look at the valley of f trees and homes in the neighborhood.

 The sunrise looks so epic coming up from the east. So standing here on this cold and crisp morning at the top of this hill overlooking a twilight morning of blue hues and bright orange, I had a moment of stillness. 

A moment of peace. A moment of vision. A moment of a dream of a grander way of living. I saw a new perspective. I saw a future me standing at the apex of my land in the hills. Looking at the valley of my past and remembering all of the steps of a path that brought me here. 

The Footsteps of Frozen Fresh Water

 An immersive snowy walk of living poetry, sound, and photography. A late January walk journal, Part 3

In everything you’re doing 

composing

Brianna Wiest 

Salt Water

When I stepped out into the snowy oasis on this serene

Saturday afternoon 

I couldn’t help but think, while in the midst of the snowflake covering my dark clothes, having me look like a walking universe, that there was so much layered art going on in real time. 

Why does walking in the snow feel so poetic to me? Is it this type of weather my flow state? So many ideas are activated when I take sacred snowy strolls. It does something that I can’t even explain to my soul. 

Maybe my connection is being that art student in high school, working on my first painting, which was a winter scene on a farm. I remember how immersed I became in the scene I was creating. 

So much so, I didn’t know where my world ended and that snowy painting began. I took so much pride in my teacher teaching me how to be detailed by putting snow on each branch. 

When my work was done, I wanted to dwell in the place I created. All of these years later, every time it snows, I feel like I’m reliving that experience. I just don’t have the paintbrush. Someone else does now.

There’s an artist creating this world on this living canvas. I have a ritual, too, when I take these types of walks. I listen to one of my favorite books in audio form.

It’s a book of prose and poetry by Brianna Wiest called Salt Water. Her words are the soundtrack, and this winter wonderland is the movie. That combination always seems to soothe me.

We are a symphony of vivid imagery and thoughtful sound. 

My footsteps provide 

The rhythm on this icy path on the ground. 

Looks like heaven’s salt is seasoning the earth.

I feel so alive in this moment. This is my flow state. 

My secret place. 

Snowy, serene scenes, saltwater, and a poet in motion

We are a trinity in a constant state of composing.