Despite living in rural Vermont—a place of great natural beauty and seasonal changes—I had slipped into a workaholic life that was keeping me indoors, except when I took Leo, my dog, for a walk. We’d be two miles up a hill before I even looked up from the gravel under my boots to notice the weather. That’s how hard it was not only to get outside, but also to get out of my head.
I decided to change that.
In December of 2023, I purchased 2024 page-a-day diary, which I titled Every Day Outdoors.
As a writer, I’d learned that setting specific, measurable, and achievable goals is a sure way to motivate myself to do something that initially seems impossible. I also know that writing is how I make sense of the world. I challenged myself to go outdoors every day and pay attention, so I would have something to write when I returned to my desk.
I started in January 2024: I went outside every day, knowing I had to find something noteworthy to write down when I came back in. I became more observant, even on the short walk from the house to the studio where I write.
“At six am, the waning Gibbous moon in the west, and Venus shining in the southeast. Clear and cold, about 18. I love this early morning arrival at the studio.” This is the first sentence of the entry for 1/1/24, which continues to fill the entire page.
The entry for 4/15/25 is short.
“Four seasons of weather in a single day.”
From October 24 to November 4, and from November 7 to November 8, the pages are blank. These must be days I was in the woods from before dawn until noon, deer hunting with my bow. The blank pages tell me I didn’t see any deer. It’s easy to be outdoors in any weather during hunting season, and harder other times when it’s cold, rainy, hot, or humid, and even when the weather’s nice but I think I have too much indoor work to do. That’s when Leo sets me straight.
Leo outside the writing studio, waiting patiently for me to join him outside.
Leo insists Tim and I start the day with him, patrolling the lower hayfield before breakfast. I’ve already put in an hour or two in the studio by the time Leo and Tim fetch me to walk.
This daily walk has allowed us to observe the seasons minutely. There’s a week when we see the work of the orb weavers, whose classic webs hang in the tall grass; another week, when a different spider has spread dense, flat webs hovering above short grass like newly laundered handkerchiefs laid out to dry.
This year, we’ve watched a brood of turkeys grow from chicks to poults. We’ve witnessed the beech trees stoically weather an infestation of tiny insects that disfigured the leaves on their lowest branches. Weeks after the insects departed, the beeches remain as healthy as ever. Whatever organism used these trees to reproduce knows better than to kill its host. Nature in balance is like that.
I’m more than halfway through my 2025 day-by-day diary titled Every Day Outdoors. The need for poetry is as necessary as the need to be outdoors.
What gets you outdoors? What do you see?
Reviving Artemis: The Making of a Huntress can be preordered now for 11/4/25 delivery.