For The Littles - Walking with Winter Part I
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Autumn goodbye, Autumn goodbye,
You may no longer stay.
Winter arrived today.
Autumn goodbye, Autumn goodbye.
I wish I could remember which mother, in my sweet nest of amazing mamas, when my children were little, first shared this song with me, as it is forever ingrained in my heart. I don’t know where I learned it — I only know that I love it.
It has followed me on many long walks, year after year, sung softly at the turning points — Winter Solstice, Spring Equinox, Summer Solstice, and Fall Equinox. I can still hear my three sweet children’s voices singing this sweet song with such reverence.
It’s a simple song that honors letting go and welcomes what comes next — a gentle way to begin guiding our children into the natural rhythms of endings and beginnings.
Winter has arrived. The holidays are behind us, and we begin settling into our own deeply personal winter practices. This season doesn’t ask us to do more — it asks us to notice more, slow down, find our breath, calm our nervous system, and attune with the season at hand.
This can be done in so many ways. A short walk out into the Winter wonderland that surrounds your home can be enough. A visit to a sleeping garden, noticing how quiet, serene, and tucked in it feels energetically compared to its buzzing, Spring and Summer energy.
Walking with Winter
Get bundled up so you are comfortable and step outside together — even briefly. Approach this winter adventure without a predetermined destination.
Let your child lead you down the path that is calling to them. Let Winter lead, follow the ice and snow. Perhaps you have a pond on your property. What does it look like compared to Spring, Summer & even Fall?
Go slowly, take your time, and pause when something asks for more curiosity.
A patch of frost, an icecycle hanging from a tree branch.
The sound of a bird's wings as it lifts off into the chilly sky.
Notice how the air feels on your skin, how your nose, toes, eyes, and fingers respond to the cold.
You might wonder aloud with your child:
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What do you hear when the world is quiet? Perhaps, name a sound you are hearing and see if your child participates in noticing the sounds around them.
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What colors are still here?
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Where do you think the animals have gone?
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What do you think Winter is holding beneath the cold?
There’s no need to rush the questions or even answer them. Let them arrive naturally in the moment, model genuine curiosity, and allow that curiosity to be enough — guiding you and your child to deeply take in the winter environment around you.
My favorite part of these outdoor adventures, when my three boys were little, was noticing what they noticed before I did. It’s incredible the observations that arise when we give our children space, encouragement, and gentle guidance to be present with the natural world.
Gathering With Intention
Our family had quite a basket collection for our adventures — although pockets and hoodie hoods work just as well. As we walk, we gather with a different kind of listening.
This is a way of listening I learned long ago, after reading Perelandra, which speaks to communication with nature devas and plant spirits. It was a pivotal moment of understanding for me: that we don’t simply pick and take whatever we feel like.
Instead, we attune.
We attune to the energy of the plant, rock, mushroom, berry, or vegetable we feel drawn to. We greet it. We ask — quietly — if it wants to come home with us, if it is ready to be gathered.
If you pick up a rock and listen, you may feel an energetic yes or no. If you go to pluck a berry and it resists coming off the vine, you leave it. You take only what releases easily, what feels ready and willing.
It may sound a little woo or strange at first — and that’s okay. The more you practice this kind of listening, the more you begin to understand what I’m describing. It becomes less about belief and more about learning how to listen and tune in to different energy signatures.
We gather the bits and pieces of nature that call to us — the ones that seem to ask to come home. A fallen leaf. A smooth stone. A curl of bark loosened by time.
We pause.
We listen.
We ask permission.
Not everything we notice is meant to be gathered. Some things are meant to be greeted and left exactly where they are.
What does come home with us is brought back with care — placed on our nature table altar (more on this in Part II of this Blog Series coming next week). This becomes a beautiful way of remembering the walk, honoring the seasons, and keeping the magic of nature alive in your home year-round, fostering a deep respect for the natural world that your child will carry with them into adulthood.
When you return home, empty pockets, hoods, and baskets together. Lay out the treasure that was gathered and notice what each piece carries — texture, color, story. Did you know that an Oak Tree doesn't produce its first acorn until it is 50 years old? What learning and stories want to come through these treasures you gathered?
These small offerings help anchor the season indoors. They give children a place to return to, again and again, as winter unfolds.
A Creative Winter Treat
Red Ants on a Log with Snowfall
Celery becomes a forest log.
Nut or seed butter becomes the richness of the earth.
Goji berries scurry in — little red ants preparing for winter.
Coconut flakes drift down slowly, like the first snow.
Admire the small world you’ve made together into a delicious, healthy treat.
You might ask:
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What do ants do when it gets cold?
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Where does snow come from?
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What rests when the forest rests?
Food can be play.
Healthy foods can be fun.
Coming Next Week in Part II of This Blog Series
Next week, we’ll follow the trail a little further — co-creating a sacred space for the treasures that chose to come home with us. We’ll listen for who may wish to arrive, and what quiet stories are already gathering at the edges, waiting to be told.
For now, let the walk be the first spell cast, the beginning of our shared adventure.
Until next Monday. 🌲✨
Love & Bunnies,
The Rose Witch