The Journal · On Attention
On the Edge of Time
A walk through memory, scent, and sacred noticing
This weekend, my daughter Emma and I took a walk through the wooded creek paths near my parents’ house—paths I’ve wandered since I was ten. That landscape is stitched into me. I used to play there for hours, making up stories and naming trees, founding a one-member club I called The Golden Explorers after finding a golden rod and scrawling its name with Sharpie. My mission? To appreciate and protect nature. I talked to trees. I listened. And I learned to see.
Each return brings a new layer of observancy. This time, Emma was with me. She found a roly-poly and named him Jeremy. I noticed a scent—sweet, elusive, threading through the air like a hidden song. There was nothing obviously blooming, nothing bright or showy. But it was there, perfuming the woods. I used my Picture This app to trace the scent back to a camouflaged bloom tucked into the brush—waxy-leaf privet. Subtle, but potent. Some bushes held more of it than others, but the scent lingered like memory.
We walked. No agenda. Just presence.
Emma found a tree I’d never noticed before—tall, spiked, and oddly regal. Its bark bristled with thorns like combed armor. According to the app, it was a Hercules’ club. I must have passed it a hundred times. She saw it.
It was a moment braided across time—me, at ten, walking these same paths, and now me, walking them with my daughter. Same woods. Same trees. Different season. Deeper joy.
At the end, I picked a few of those hidden blooms and arranged them in a little glass jar in my mom’s kitchen. The scent carried the walk with it—like a key turning in the lock of memory. I don’t know if I’ve ever noticed that smell so strongly before, but it stirred something ancient in me, something quiet and sacred.
It felt like I was walking on the edge of time.
🌿 Pocket Field Notes to Delight & Savor
🌬️ Three Notes from the Field
Sometimes wonder comes quietly, in a walk with no purpose.
The places we return to carry both memory and newness. Let your noticing evolve each time you revisit something old.
Our children often see what we miss. Let them lead sometimes.
📚 Two Books for the Basket
The Wild Robot by Peter Brown – A modern classic that explores nature, connection, and awakening joy.
Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney – A gentle, poetic invitation to make the world more beautiful, one bloom at a time.
🪻 One Thing to Carry
A Pocket of Beauty:
”Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” ~ Mary Oliver
With grace,
Kim