Ep 244 - A Late Winter Walk to Remember

Some walks stay with us long after they end.

A quiet rainy walk through the late-winter woods becomes a meditation on healing, hope, and nature’s wisdom. On a misty morning, Mary Stone and her faithful companion, Jolee, head into the forest, where the rhythm of rain and the stillness of the trees create space for reflection.

Inspired by an earlier column, March Folklore of Hope, Mary reflects on weather sayings passed through generations, the promise of snowdrops pushing through winter’s frost, and the reminder that storms eventually give way to new growth.

Along the way, she recalls a lesson from her brother’s Tai Chi practice — the art of Pushing Hands, where strength comes not from resistance but from balance and redirection.

And in a meaningful moment at the end of the episode, Mary shares a breakthrough toward completing the manuscript for her forthcoming book, The Lesson of the Leaf. “

Sometimes the most memorable walks are the ones that help us see the path ahead more clearly.

Link to the Companion Blog Post: A Late Winter Walk to Remember & March Folklore of Hope

Related Episodes & Stories

🌱 Ep. 34 – Forest Bathing Helps Loneliness/ Willowwood Champion Trees 

🌱 Ep. 98 – Winter Flowers and Folklore

🌱 Ep 35 - Leaf Therapy, Essential Oaks

🌱 Ep 180 - Overview of The Lesson of the Leaf

Blog Post: Native vs. Invasive Plants: Who Decides What Belongs? To view Blaine Rothhuser’s stunning photo. 

 📖 Companion blog reflection: March Folklore of Hope

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I'd love to hear your garden and nature stories, as well as your thoughts on topics for future podcast episodes. You can email me at AskMaryStone@gmail.com.   

You can follow Garden Dilemmas on Facebook and Instagram #MaryElaineStone.

You can also listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and your favorite podcast app.

Thank you for sharing the Garden of Life,
 Mary Stone
Columnist & Garden Designer

More about the Podcast and Column:

 Welcome to Garden Dilemmas, Delights, and Discoveries.

 It's not only about gardens; it's about nature's inspirations, about grasping the glories of the world around us, gathering what we learned from Mother Nature, and carrying these lessons into our garden of life. So, let's jump in, in the spirit of learning from each other. We have lots to talk about.

Thanks for tuning in, Mary Stone 
Garden Dilemmas? AskMaryStone.com
Direct Link to Podcast Page

Transcript

Ep 244 - A Late Winter Walk to Remember

Sun, Mar 08, 2026 9:55AM • 15:01

SPEAKERS

Mary Stone

Mary Stone  00:00

Mary, Hello, fellow lovers of all things green. I'm Mary Stone, and welcome to garden dilemmas, delights, and discoveries. It's not only about gardens. It's about nature's inspirations, about grasping the glories of the world around us, gathering what we learn from Mother Nature, and carrying these lessons into our garden of life. So let's jump in, the spirit of learning from each other, we have lots to talk about.

00:26

Hello there, kind listeners. I am sitting on the screen porch, and you may hear the brook in front of the home is racing because of all the snow melt and the rains that we've had as of late. There's a soft mist hanging in the air today, and most of the snow cover has melted away. A few days ago, I enjoyed the final shush on cross-country skis in the backyard, chasing what may be the last of the snow, or maybe not quite the last, since spring doesn't officially arrive until March 21 this year, so winter has some time to show its snowy face again. Maybe I should keep to myself that I hope that is the case, because so many are snow-weary after the winter we've had.

01:11

I want to thank those who reached back after our last chat, Native versus  Invasive- Who decides? I hope you had a chance to click through to the companion blog post and see Blaine Rothauser's remarkable portrait of the marmorated brown stink bug. Yes, it's the bug that invades our home each fall and leaves behind that less-than-lovely scent, he wrote. But head on, you must admit, it's cool, and it surely is. I'm going to put a link to that blog post in the show notes, because you just can't miss that photo. 

01:42

So on to this week's story, it is themed around how some walks stay with you long after they end, and it starts like this: Hello, fellow lovers of all things green. It warmed into the 50s on Sunday, and Jolee and I wandered through the woods in snowshoes through patches of fallen leaves. The landscape is in that in-between stage now mud season a messy time, especially for those of us with canine kids. Then the rain came on Tuesday, but rain rarely keeps us from walking. We walk in all kinds of weather. The only exceptions are thunder and lightning, and when the roads are salted, which isn't kind to doggy feet, but we still walk; we just stay among the trees. Being in nature is a daily routine, a way to stay grounded. Highly recommended. Don't you agree?

02:37

As Jolee and I stepped into the woods, it felt quiet, except for the steady rhythm of raindrops on the branches, on the carpet of soggy leaves and patches of snow. Walking in nature has a way of opening quiet spaces inside us, places where thoughts and feelings we've been carrying finally have room to breathe.

03:00

As the journey unfolded, I found myself shedding a few tears. You see, I've been navigating a painful separation journey, something I've mentioned before, but haven't spoken about in much detail. After many years together, my life partner has parted ways. It's been hard to grasp how a person who shared so much of life with you can suddenly become an adversary. I don't want to share the details of the challenge, but I do want to share how I'm learning to process it, because walking amongst the trees has a way of helping. We spoke about that in episode 34 Forest Bathing Helps Loneliness. I'll put a link in the show notes. 

03:47

There's something about the rain that invites honesty from the heart, the quiet rhythm of the raindrops, the feeling of the forest canopy embracing you from above, supporting whatever your heart is carrying. As the rain touched my face that morning, I had the distinct feeling that God was sharing tears of understanding with me, Amazing Grace. Sometimes rain feels like that, not just weather, but grace, cleansing, a nourishing of the earth so that new life can grow. Perhaps our tears work in the same way.

04:27

And beside me was Jolee, my faithful companion. Dogs don't require explanations. They loyally walk beside you, present in the moment, accepting whatever their day holds. We can learn so much from dogs. A side note, though, Jolie sometimes puts on the brakes in the rain, her way of saying, I'd rather not. Thank you very much, but then she'll get in the groove. That day, she walked steadily by my side with no resistance, no brakes on. As if she knew I needed her to help me. She has adjusted well to our new routine of just the two of us, though she loved her papa very much and so did I.

05:12

The forest holds many reminders of how life works. Storms pass; roots hold new growth follows disturbance. Those truths are evident in nature, but sometimes harder to remember in our own lives. As I walked that rainy morning, I found myself thinking about a long-ago column written during another unsettling time in the thick of the pandemic. The column was titled March folklore of hope. At that time, the world felt upside down. Fear was both real and amplified by the constant feed of alarming headlines. Today, the news again carries stories of conflict and war. It's easy to feel overwhelmed by worry, and perhaps that is why March folklore has endured for generations. People have always looked at Nature's signs this time of year for reassurance that change is coming, that winter never holds the landscape forever. March is a month of thresholds, winter loosening its grip, while spring quietly gathers momentum beneath the soil.

06:25

Many are familiar with the folklore that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. My mom used to say it in reverse. If it comes in like a lamb, it goes out like a lion. It makes sense, right? Upon researching the history of the 19th-century English proverb. It seems the saying is not necessarily reversed. Maybe it was simply an Emma Stone original. My dear mom was fluent in idioms. Still, it seems logical that the expression could work both ways. Think back on all the snowy Easters we've experienced after a mild start to March.

07:02

As I sit with you today, the world outside feels wrapped in a fog. The air above the melting snow is warming, or perhaps more positively, a mist is in the air, which reminds me of another old saying, so many mists in March, you see so many frosts in May, will be. Uh oh. That was one of my mom's favorites.

07:27

These bits of weather folklore are fun to consider, though we know we really have no control over nature's plans. We can, however, control how we spread love and kindness to foster hope. In like a lion, out like a lamb suggests a balance in weather and perhaps in life as well. After something difficult often comes growth. Love stands opposite fear. Hope lives in the promise of change and new beginnings.

08:00

Soon the snowdrops will emerge, those lovely, little nodding, white flowers that magically push through the last layer of winter's frosting. Their presence reminds us that life continues below the surface, even when it's unseen. They are among the first flowers each year, as we spoke about in episode 98, Winter Flowers and Folklore. Again, I'll put a link in the show notes. 

As I continued my rainy walk that morning, I reflected on the legal challenges currently unfolding in my life, and something my brother once showed me through his practice of Tai Chi.

08:37 Tai Chi is an ancient martial art with slow self-defense movements that evolved from observing animals in nature. My brother embraced tai chi for its meditative principles rooted in the balance of all living things. His demonstration of pushing hands was my favorite, with legs widely spaced and firmly grounded. He would stand hands against hands with a partner. Their upper bodies flowed back and forth together in cadence like the ocean tides. Bill's hands slowly yielded to his partner's push, then moved forward to redirect the energy, rather than resisting force with force.

09:19

Watching Bill demonstrate this always struck me as a powerful metaphor for life. Sometimes resistance only creates more force. Sometimes the wiser path is to remain grounded and redirect the energy, rather than engage the conflict head-on. That idea has helped me recently. When someone carries anger about things that didn't go the way they hoped in their lives, that anger often spills onto others. Being on the receiving end of that can be very difficult. The challenge is not to absorb that anger and become paralyzed by the hurt, work in progress for me, but to redirect it and remain rooted in our own values, like trees in a storm.

10:10

As I continued my rainy walk, tiny spritzes of rain brushed my face. I like to think of them as Angel kisses, gentle reminders that life has its own unfolding rhythm. Every winter when my field work slows and garden installations pause, I set expectations for what I hope to accomplish during the quieter months, sometimes something interrupts those plans. This year, it has been the time and emotional energy required to navigate legal matters and personal change. But as the old saying goes, this too shall pass, and that comforts me. I hope it comforts you during hard times,

10:52

Trusting the outcome, trusting that things will unfold as they are meant to, is not always easy, but nature gives us examples of that trust. Consider the acorn. A single acorn falls to the ground and sprouts into an oak tree that grows strong and tall, producing 1000s of acorns along the way. Those acorns feed wildlife. Some become future forests. If you wish to plant just one thing to support nature, plant an oak tree. It nurtures hundreds of species and becomes a pillar of life in the landscape. That little acorn grows into something vast and sustaining. Perhaps the challenging experiences we move through in life are similar. We don't always understand their purpose in the moment, but they shape who we become, and sometimes they allow us to nourish others along the way.

11:51

As I finished my rainy walk that morning, the mist thickened where the drifts of snow gathered among the trees; it felt as though I was walking inside a cloud, and yet, even in the fog, I knew something important. Spring is coming - new beginnings. The snowdrops will emerge, and the woods and the meadows will green again. And whatever storms we face in our gardens, in the world, or in our personal lives, they are part of the seasons we pass through. The forest reminds us that life continues to grow through every one of them. Garden Dilemmas? AskMaryStone.com.

12:35

You know, as I'm sharing this with you, I realize this is the end of my book. This is the end of The Lesson of the Leaf. Not that the story ever will really end, but I want to thank you for inspiring me to bring it to a close. I am working on the self-published version. You will be the first to know when it's ready for you to see. But most important, I want to thank you for visiting with me today and all through these weeks together, I'm getting a little teary because the growth I've experienced and the comfort has been remarkable, and just goes to show everything has a purpose, and there is a reason for every season I can't thank you enough for allowing me to share these few tears for helping me grow, and I hope my sharing helps you grow too in the Garden of Life.

13:30

So here is Jolee. She's staring at me from the inside of the house. Come on, Jolee, my faithful companion, always by my side, and to think I once feared dogs. Jolee.

13:45

So, thank you so kindly for visiting with me as you do each week, but I have to say I may have to switch to an every-other-week cycle for a little bit of time. As much as I love visiting with you each week, it's becoming hard to keep up with other things that I have to tend to. But keep those conversations coming. I always enjoy hearing from you by email at Ask Mary stone@gmail.com or on the social links. So, I look forward to next time on the screen porch, and until next time, keep listening to the quiet wisdom of nature and the garden within and walk in every kind of weather, because every bit of weather is beautiful. A Walk to Remember. Thanks so much. Have a beautiful day. 

14:29

You can follow Garden Dilemmas on Facebook, online at GardenDilemmas.com, and on Instagram at the hashtag Mary Elaine Stone. Garden Dilemmas, Delights, and Discoveries is produced by Alex Bartling. Thanks for coming by. I look forward to chatting again from my screen porch and always remember to embrace the unexpected in this garden of life. Have a great day.