Hi there,
I'm so glad you've joined me for this bedtime story.
I find spending time in nature to be so nourishing for the soul.
I hope this story can provide a little bit of that while you settle in for sleep.
I wrote this story with sleepfulness in mind.
About a collection of lakes that all share the same name.
And as I weave the tail of these legs.
I'll be inviting your mind and body to settle for sleep.
All you have to do is listen.
Effortlessly.
Releasing the day.
As we drift from one peaceful lake to another.
My name is Susan Guttridge and I'm so grateful that you've chosen a story to lull yourself into sleep.
And that you chose me to narrate it for you.
Before you settle in for your story.
It can be helpful to give the day a little attention so that parts of it won't keep popping back into your thoughts.
Demanding your attention when you'd rather be sleeping.
So I invite you to scan through your day in a moment.
Beginning from when you woke up.
All the way to this moment.
Acknowledging anything that's lingering.
Go ahead now,
Scan through the events of your day.
Without pausing too long on any one moment.
Without sprinkling in judgment.
Just scanning through the events of your day.
Until you arrive back at this moment.
Laying in bed.
Preparing for sleep.
If you notice there are any parts still sitting with you.
Any bits of the day that feel unfinished.
Anything tugging at your mind.
Or sitting a little heavily.
If it's okay,
Just acknowledge what still lingers.
And then put an action plan around it.
So for example,
If you find yourself thinking about something from your day that feels unfinished.
What's one small step you might take tomorrow to move it forward?
Sometimes our thoughts start to nag at us at night.
As if the mind is trying to make sure we don't forget.
In doing so.
These thoughts get in the way of rest.
If that's happening to you now.
You could even take a moment to.
.
.
Just jot it down,
A quick night note on a piece of paper.
Or in your phone.
This small act reassures your mind.
I have written it down.
I won't forget.
I can release that thought now.
This is my time to sleep.
You can pause this track if you need some more time to do that.
I'll be here waiting when you're finished.
Alright.
So now with the day placed gently aside.
It's finished now.
Tomorrow is a new day.
There is nothing more you need to do.
This is your time for rest.
Taking in a deep breath.
And slightly longer,
Exhale out.
Just at your own pace.
And I find the breath to be such a beautiful somatic way to mark.
Our transition from one activity to another.
For us together here now.
We're marking the end of the day.
And the beginning of your rest.
Take a moment to get comfortable Give your body a stretch.
Relax your head ever more slightly deeper onto your pillow.
Your jaws unclenched.
Your brow unfurrows.
Allow your shoulders to soften your hands relax comfortably where they're resting.
Feel yourself sink ever so slightly more into your bed.
Adjust your sheets or blankets just right.
Like a soft reassuring hug around you and when it's okay.
Allow your eyes to drift closed.
If you find your mind wanders away from this story while you're listening,
Just remind yourself with a gentle,
There I go again.
And return to my voice to your breath.
And picture in your mind's eye the lakes unfolding around you.
This is your time to sleep.
You've done enough for today.
Your only task now is to listen.
Comfortably in your bed Letting your imagination follow my voice picturing the beautiful lakes that found their way into this story.
Intentionally.
Peacefully.
And then to drift off to sleep.
And on that note.
.
.
Let's begin our story.
I am a bit of a warm weather adventurer.
I love exploring mountain roads.
Forest Service Road.
And remote mountain lakes.
And as much as I love the journey,
Driving those mountain roads and getting a little mud on my jeans.
I also love arriving at the lake.
Sitting on the shore.
Or being out on the water paddle boarding.
There's something so peaceful about being on the water.
Standing or sitting on my board.
The water quiet all around.
Gliding slowly across the surface of a lake.
It brings a kind of calm that's hard to find anywhere else.
About 10 years ago,
I started keeping a list of the places I'd heard about.
Sparked my interest to visit.
Mountain meadows full of flowers.
Little lakes tucked away in forests.
Or resting high in the mountains.
Of lakes where I found myself thinking.
I'd paddle there.
I add lakes to my list.
I mark them off as I explore them.
And add notes and photos about the adventure.
So every now and then when someone in conversation mentions a place I've never heard of,
And my curiosity grows.
I add the name to the list.
And then later during a quiet moment Research it.
To see if it's somewhere I might be able to access.
Somewhere I might be able to paddle.
Not long ago.
A friend mentioned a lake in British Columbia called No Name Lake.
And something about that name stayed with me.
Because.
.
.
How could you have a lake without a name?
I couldn't help but find myself wondering.
Why would a place not have a name?
How did that happen?
What is the story that lies behind this vague name?
Where is this lake?
And,
Of course.
Can I paddle there?
I'm sure you can guess what I did the moment I got home.
Yes,
I sat down at my computer.
And began learning all about no-name lights.
As I began looking into it.
This lake near the town of 100 Mile House.
In the heart of the Cariboo region of British Columbia.
My search revealed something more unexpected.
There wasn't just one.
But many lakes sharing this same simple name.
NONAMELY I have found myself drawn in.
Curious about each one.
So for tonight's story.
.
.
I'll share a little bit about each one for you.
Because there's something curious and fascinating about these places.
Lakes that exist.
Without a defining name.
As though they've been loved.
Just as they are.
I hope you find the story just interesting enough to.
.
.
Take your attention away from thinking and doing.
So you can drift peacefully towards sleep.
I'll start the story with the first no-name lake that caught my attention.
Right here in British Columbia.
This no-name lake is tucked into the Caribou region of British Columbia.
The caribou region is located in the central interior of the Canadian province.
Situated on a high plateau.
Between the Frasier River and the Caribou Rocky Mountains.
It stretches from roughly 100 miles in the south to the city of Prince George in the north.
Including towns like Williams Lake.
Quesnel.
And the historic Barkerville.
It's known for the Fraser Plateau.
Wide rivers.
Serene lakes rolling hills and ranch lands.
And for all things outdoor adventure.
To reach No Name Lake in the Caribou.
You begin on the Trans-Canada Highway passing the small community of 100 Mile House.
Where the pace already begins to shift Just a little.
Gradually,
You leave the main highway behind.
The road becomes quieter.
Less travel.
As you turn onto a network of forest service roads.
The kind that stretch out across the interior of British Columbia.
Connecting one quiet,
Remote place to another.
I imagine the sound changes here as well.
Worked with the steady hum of the highway fading away.
Replaced by something softer.
Tires rolling over gravel.
A gentle rhythmic crunch beneath you.
These roads wind through stands of trees.
Tall and steady.
Surrounding you on either side Douglas fir rising straight and grounded.
Their branches spaced just enough.
To let the soft sunlight filter through.
And among them.
Slender lodgepole pine.
Growing in quiet clusters.
Their narrow trunks creating a gentle rhythm as you pass.
Here and there,
Patches of trembling aspen appear.
Their pale bark catching the light.
There are small leaves shifting softly in the breeze.
Adding a subtle movement to the stillness.
There is space between the trees here.
A sense of openness as the landscape begins to feel more and more remote.
The forest stretches out around you quietly in every direction.
There is a sense here.
That you are moving into a place that has been this way.
Untouched.
For a long time.
Some of these roads follow the path of the old caribou wagon road.
A route once traveled by thousands of gold seekers.
Moving slowly.
Steadily through this same terrain.
In search of something just ahead.
And now that same land feels very different.
Quieter.
Slower.
As you continue.
The road narrows slightly.
Becoming more simple.
You travel along what is known as the 7000 road.
A forest service road that carries you deeper into the trees.
For many quiet kilometers.
The forest close.
Steady on both sides.
You feel no rush here no sense of urgency just the feeling of moving forward one gentle stretch of road at a time.
And then.
.
.
Almost without noticing.
You turn onto a smaller road.
A quiet branch that leads toward the lake.
This part of the journey feels even more tucked away.
Secluded.
The road a little narrower.
The landscape a little quieter.
The trees seemed to draw in a little closer.
As though the forest is gently holding the path.
And for a few more kilometers you follow this road.
Until the landscape begins to shift once more.
The space between the trees widening just slightly.
The light.
Shining through changes.
And you can sense that you are arriving somewhere.
Eventually,
The road opens into a small recreation site.
And you soften to a stop.
It's a simple,
Unassuming place.
There are no large signs.
No busy parking areas No crowd or sense of expectation.
Just a quiet clearing at the edge of the water.
This is No Name Light.
You've arrived.
Imagine feeling the ground beneath your feet.
Study.
The air at the perfect temperature around you.
Nearby,
The surface of the lake glimmers in the landscape.
It's water calm.
Reflecting the sky above it.
Looking around,
You notice open grassy areas here where the wind moves gently through long green blades.
Creating a soft,
Steady whisper.
And everything about this place feels serene.
Simple.
There are no reservations needed.
No assigned spaces No need to plan too far in advance.
You can simply be here.
There is something about this place that feels different.
No expectations.
No holding.
Just being.
And if you like.
You might imagine setting your paddleboard gently onto the water's edge.
Stepping in after it,
Them climbing gracefully on.
Feeling it steady beneath you sitting,
Kneeling,
Or standing.
You begin to drift.
Slowly along the surface.
No destination new timeline.
No need to go far here.
And no sense of needing to reach the other side.
You can just drift.
Enjoying the quiet movement of water.
And the feeling of being held.
Supported by the lake.
By this moment,
Just as it is.
As you drift there for a while.
On the quiet surface of the lake.
You find yourself noticing the name.
And perhaps even smile as you remember.
There are others.
Places like this.
Other lakes carrying the very same name.
And if okay.
This place can begin to fade into the background of your mind.
While the feeling of it remains.
The smooth glide across the water,
Balanced.
Calm,
Relaxed.
As that feeling stays with you.
Your attention begins to wander.
To another place.
A little farther north.
Another light.
Also called No Name Light.
Tucked into the northeastern part of British Columbia.
In the Peace River region.
This part of the province feels a little different.
The land stretches wider here.
Opening out into long gentle distances where forest and sky seem to meet There are northern forests here.
Deeper,
Quieter.
Stretching across the land in every direction.
And beyond them.
The terrain softens into rolling plains.
That carry on farther than the eye can follow.
While in the distance Mountains still rise holding the edges of the landscape.
Quietly.
Steadily.
And as you enter this part of the province You might even begin to feel that difference.
The land stretching wider.
The forests deeper.
The distances between places a little greater.
It's a more rugged landscape.
Loves travel.
Where the sense of quiet lingers a little longer.
This lake is smaller.
More tucked away.
Resting quietly in the back country.
The kind of place that feels quietly hidden.
As though it's been waiting for you to find it.
Where the journey there itself is an adventure.
Here,
Access is limited.
It's not a place for large boats.
Or busy shorelines.
Allowing for only smaller watercraft.
Something simple.
Something quiet Imagine carrying in your paddle board.
Placing it down at the water's edge feeling the pebbly ground beneath your toes.
Naturally uneven.
And as you do,
You feel the deep sense that this place has been left mostly undisturbed.
The lake itself stretches across the landscape.
Not very large.
But deep enough to hold life beneath the surface.
Here northern pike moves slowly in the quiet depths below.
Parts of a rhythm that has always been here.
And,
At the surface,
The water remains still.
Unhurried.
The air feels crisp.
Carrying the scent of moss and trees.
There are no crowds here.
No human noise carrying across the water Just space.
Imagine gently getting on your paddleboard.
Pushing off the shore to drift along the still surface of the water.
This time in a place that feels even more remote.
Even more quiet.
The water beneath you dark Study.
Its color shaped slowly over time.
Bye leaves.
And Mars.
And the forest floor itself.
And as you drift along the water's surface the only sound.
The paddle dipping and stirring the water.
The sense of spaciousness around you.
Of being gently removed from.
Expectations.
From anything more that needs your attention.
Nothing being asked of you.
You can just be.
In this one moment as it unfolds.
Just you.
You're bored.
The water.
And the quiet presence of this place.
Carries a name.
And yet in many ways remains undefined.
You stay here for a few moments drifting on the peaceful water.
Held by the stillness of the northern light.
Then allowing your attention to move once more to another light.
Somewhere else quietly waiting for you to explore.
You notice how easily your mind can shift.
Wandering from one quiet peaceful place to another gently shifting awareness.
As though moving across the landscape.
Without effort.
And this time,
Your attention drifts east.
To another part of Canada.
To a place of forest elevations.
And long quiet seasons.
In Western Manitoba.
Along the border of Saskatchewan.
There is a vast stretch of forest.
Known as the Porcupine Provincial Forest.
It's a rugged and expansive place.
Filled with stands of spruce and aspen.
With birch trees catching the sunlight in between branches.
Rolling terrain.
And countless lakes tucked into the land.
Here,
The landscape rises gently along what is known as the Manitoba Escarpment.
Sometimes called the Porcupine Mountains.
Creating a sense of height and distance.
And space.
While some areas here feel open much of it remains deeply forested.
Layer upon layer of trees stretching out in every direction.
And within this wide stretch of forest.
And within this wide stretch of forest among lakes with names like Bell Lake.
Whitefish lake.
Steep broccoli There is another.
Simply called NoNamely.
Many of the lakes here.
Have long been known.
My name.
And spoken of.
And returned to you.
Over time.
Yet,
This one feels a little different.
A little more tucked away.
A little less often spoken of.
A place that has simply remained as it is.
Remote.
Not easily reached.
Not often passed by.
Perhaps because to get here.
There is a long journey inward.
Along forest paths that wind through the trees,
Leading gradually,
Step by careful step,
Toward the water.
You could imagine moving along those paths in the warmer months.
The forest close around you.
The ground soft beneath your feet.
Until eventually.
.
.
The space between the trees widens.
Opening to a clearing revealing the lake.
And in the winter months,
The entire landscape changes.
Snow settling quietly over everything.
Softening the edges of the land.
Covering the ground,
The trees,
The trails.
Access becomes different then.
Snowmobile tracks carve gentle paths through the forest.
Gliding over terrain that in other seasons would be difficult to cross.
The land itself resting beneath the cold air.
Its surface frozen.
Stay still.
And quiet in a different way.
But in this moment as you are tucked comfortably into your bed.
You might imagine this no-name lake in the warmer seasons.
Arriving at the water's edge through the clearing in the trees.
The water calm.
Dark and steady.
A quiet place your reward after a long approach.
This place is known only by those who seek it out.
Often for fishing.
Where the northern pike swims slowly beneath its depths.
Part of the quiet rhythm of the lake.
Beyond that,
There is little here that asks for attention.
No busy shoreline.
No noise.
Just forest and water and space.
And within that quiet.
Life continues in its own rhythm.
Somewhere along the shoreline.
A beaver moves gracefully through the water.
Barely disturbing the surface.
While deeper in the forest,
A moose passes slowly between the trees.
Unseen and unhurried.
High in the branches.
A porcupine moves slowly along.
At ease in its own rhythm.
Not needing to hurry.
Not needing to be seen.
And at times the distant call of a loon carries softly across the lake.
Then fading again into stillness.
You might notice arriving here.
After a long,
Meandering approach.
And stepping into the stillness.
Feeling the air around you on your skin.
Cool,
Steady,
Calm.
And here there is no further you need to go.
You can simply settle in at the water's edge.
A well-deserved sit down after a long walk.
The lake stretching out before you,
Calm,
With the song of all things nature enveloping you.
Serenading you in the distance you notice a loon floating on the surface.
For a moment it seems to remain still and then,
Gracefully,
It dips beneath the water.
Disappearing from view.
And after a few quiet seconds it emerges again a few feet away.
There is no rush in its movement.
Yet it seems so calculated so well planned so graceful and fluid Just a quiet rhythm.
Of diving,
Submerging.
And returning.
As you watch,
You notice your own body settling.
Your shoulders relaxing down.
Your jaw loosening.
Your brow unfurrowing.
Just this moment.
The water is still before you.
The shoreline close.
The trees quietly surrounding the lake.
Gentle witnesses surrounded without enclosing You are held peacefully.
By the stillness of the water and the forest beyond.
You can rest here.
Watching,
Breathing.
Simply being.
And then in your own time allowing your awareness to continue its journey to another light.
Somewhere else waiting just as patiently for you.
You notice again how easily your attention can shift from one place softening as another comes into view.
No need to hold on to where you've been it can simply fade making space for something new to unfold and now your attention drifts a little farther east across Canada to a landscape shaped by rock.
And water and time.
In northwestern Ontario.
In the wide open expanse of the Thunder Bay district.
And there is another leg.
Quietly carrying the name No Name Lake.
This part of the country feels ancient.
The land here is part of the Canadian Shield.
The deep underlying bedrock.
That stretches across much of northern Canada.
Formed so long ago and shaped slowly over time.
Here,
Smooth rock and gentle hills extend beneath the forest.
Granite and darker stone resting side by side.
Their surfaces worn and softened by countless seasons.
And by the slow movement of glaciers long ago.
The soil here is thin in many places,
With the rock often showing through.
Bare and steady,
Holding the shape of the land.
And in the spaces between,
Water has gathered.
There are lakes everywhere here.
Some lard.
Some smile.
Some barely marked at all.
And among them.
This one.
No name light.
Sometimes referred to as no name like number one as though there may be others nearby,
Just as quietly unnamed.
A name given long ago.
In the early part of the last century.
A simple designation that stayed with it ever since.
To reach it,
The journey begins along the Trans-Canada Highway.
Then continues on to smaller forest roads.
Where the ground becomes more rugged rocky beneath your tires.
Leading gradually inward.
When you arrive at Hawkeye Lake.
You park and continue on foot.
The path is not formally marked here,
But known,
Shared quietly among those who have come this way before.
It winds along rock bases and soft forest floor.
Sheltered by a mix of pine and spruce.
Their roots finding their way over rock and soil.
Here and there,
Birch and Aspen appear.
Their pale bark catching the sunlight.
Underfoot,
The earth feels uneven.
Rock and roots.
Steady and solid.
The forest feels even more varied here.
Opening in some places and gathering more closely in others.
And after a short distance of walking,
The lake reveals itself.
A quiet place.
Somewhat hidden.
And certainly worth finding.
It's known by those who visit for fishing in the warmer months.
Or who crossed its frozen surface in winter.
When the land becomes still in a different way.
But here.
As with the lakes sharing its same name.
No name like remains.
Serene and peaceful just as it is.
Imagine approaching this lake.
Along a narrow path.
Step by step.
No need to hurry.
And then,
Through the trees,
The water appears.
Still and reflective.
Giving you cause for a smile.
This is a place where the shoreline feels close to the forest.
Where the trees seem to lean slightly toward the water.
As though drawn in by its quiet.
You hear the soft movement of leaves.
The distant call of a bird.
And all around you.
A peaceful stillness.
The kind of stillness that feels complete.
Imagine stepping just a little closer to the water's edge.
Noticing with wonder how the surface of the lake reflects the sky and the surrounding trees.
Nature's own mirror.
Small islands lie scattered sleepily across the water.
Breaking the reflection here and there.
Each one holding its own cluster of trees.
Resting gently in place.
The water moving softly around them.
Without urgency You can simply sit here at the water's edge.
On a sun-warmed rock.
The ground beneath your feet,
Solid and steady.
A mix of earth and stone.
Noticing the cool summer air against your skin faint scent of pine.
Mixed with the freshness of the water nearby.
The sounds are gentle here.
A light breeze rustling the leaves of the trees.
The soft lapping of water along the shore.
And from somewhere farther out.
The quiet call of a loon.
Rising,
Then fading again.
Breathe in without effort.
Your gaze returns to the lake drifting slowly from one island to another.
Noticing the spaces between them the stillness that holds everything together.
Nothing to do.
Nothing to reach for.
Just enjoying this quiet place as it is and as you rest here You notice that this place like the others,
Does not ask to be defined.
It doesn't need a name to be what it is.
And for a few moments Perhaps you enjoy that.
Just resting.
Breathing.
The end.
Held by the quiet presence of the land around you.
And by the still beauty of the water.
And in your own time.
Needing to decide.
Your awareness may begin to drift once more.
This time moving quietly across a border.
Into another stretch of land.
Where the mountains rise again majestically into the sky.
Somewhere deep in the mountains of Montana.
Is a place known as the Glacier National Park.
And it is here.
That there is another light.
With this same simple name.
No name light.
Possibly given this placeholder name sometime between 1880 and 1891.
And 1910.
With the name appearing as its official designation.
On maps by 1968.
This alpine gem rests high in the landscape.
Held within the two medicine regions.
Where the mountains feel both vast and deeply still.
This two medicine region is a scenic backcountry area in the southeastern part of Glacier National Park.
Centered around two medicine legs.
And the surrounding valley.
There is a trail to reach it.
One that rises gently.
And unfold steadily.
Through open spaces and alpine terrain.
It would be about an 8km hike in starting from the North Shore trailhead in the two medicine campgrounds.
With about 800 feet of elevation gain as you walk.
Pets.
You don't need to walk that trail now.
You can simply arrive.
Dreamily.
And as you do comes into view.
Nestled beneath the sheer,
Dramatic rock walls.
Of both Pumpelly Pillar and Mount Helen.
The color of the water,
A striking aqua green hue.
Almost as though the sky has settled into it.
Be clear.
And pray.
Yet still and calm.
This color shaped by the mountains themselves.
From the finest particles of stone.
Resting softly in the water.
And reflecting the light above.
And as you take in that view,
Your gaze begins to widen to the mountains that rise beyond the water.
Your gaze shifting upwards.
To the great cone-shaped formation of stone.
Known as Pumpelly Pillar.
Rising above the lake like a quiet sentinel.
Watchful and still.
The water below it clear and steady,
Reflecting both sky and stone.
There's a story I read,
But this lake was once considered for another name.
Some who visited here.
Felt it deserved something more specific.
Something that could hold the meaning of the moments shared along its shore.
The name Engagement Lake was proposed in 2005.
Due to the many times people had come here to propose.
To mark something important.
To begin something new.
Yet the suggestion was set aside.
And the name did not change.
Remaining simply as no-name lake.
As though in its own way.
This place had already become exactly what it needed to be.
A place that belongs to everyone and no one at all.
Imagine yourself here.
Sitting peacefully at the water's edge.
The basin lake stretching out before you,
Clear and still.
You see along the rock faces high above.
Thin streams of water.
Making their way down.
Formed from melting snow high in the mountains.
Then trickling slowly,
Tracing delicate silver paths along the stone.
Before reaching the lake below.
In the cloudless summer sky above you.
An eagle glides on the open air.
Circling slowly.
Effortlessly.
As it moves across the sky.
You notice that familiar softening in your chest.
A warmth around your heart that so often accompanies the feeling of gratitude.
Simply for being.
Here.
At the right time and the right moment to witness it.
You feel a quiet sense of respect for its presence.
And the space it moves through.
You whisper the words thank you.
Thank you.
You settle a little deeper into the space you are setting in your heart open.
Your body calm.
Taking in the beauty around you.
The quiet presence of the lake.
The gentle movement of water from the mountains.
And the stillness that holds it all.
As you remain here for a few quiet moments.
Your awareness resting easily.
There is nothing you need to hold onto.
This place remains just as it is.
In its own time,
It begins to soften from your mind's eye.
Not disappearing,
But gently giving way.
Making space for something new to come into view.
For something new to come into view and without needing to follow a path or mark the distance.
Your awareness begins to drift once more.
Away from Glacier National Park.
This time moving a little farther south.
Across open lands toward another kind of landscape.
One where the air grows a little thinner.
And the mountains rise a little sharper.
Into the high quiet spaces of Colorado high in the San Juan mountains near the small mountain town of Silverton.
In a remote alpine basin.
A lake is cradled.
Known simply as no-name light This one rests above the tree line.
In a place where fewer things grow and the landscape feels more open.
The journey to reach it is long and steady.
Rising slowly into higher and higher elevations.
But here,
You don't need to make that climb.
You can simply arrive as though you've always been here.
Breathing in,
You notice the air feels different.
Cooler.
There are a few sounds here.
No dense forest surrounding the water No movement of leaves.
Just open space.
In the quiet presence of stone and sky.
The lake itself rests like a mirror held within the mountains.
Its surface so still,
So clear.
It reflects everything above it with near-perfect clarity.
Detail.
The surrounding mountain peaks,
Sometimes called the Needle Mountains,
Rise sharply into the sky.
Their shapes echoed in the water below.
And for a moment.
It becomes difficult to tell where the mountains end and where their reflection begins.
Everything feels balanced.
Above and below,
Sky and water.
Imagine yourself here.
Perhaps seated at the water's edge.
On a smooth sun-warmed rock.
You notice how quiet your thoughts have become.
Almost as though the spaciousness around you is reflected and felt within you.
A spaciousness.
For everything to settle.
Even the sense of direction begins to soften.
There is no clear beginning.
No clear end.
Just a wide open peaceful stillness.
Stretching outward.
As you rest here,
Held gently between sky and water.
You feel a little more at ease a little more subtle.
As though the vastness around you is quietly holding everything for you.
And perhaps there is something else to notice here.
Realization.
That even here in Colorado.
This name is not held by just one lady but many.
Elsewhere beyond these same mountains.
Another path follows a narrow winding creek.
Near Glenwood Springs.
And into you.
A place called No Name Canyon.
A path leading in its own time.
To another life.
Also called no name.
A different landscape.
A different journey.
Through rock and water and time.
And so,
Even here,
The name does not point to just one place,
But to many.
Each one beautifully distinct.
As though the name itself was never meant to define.
But simply to leave space for what is found there.
Each tucked away.
These lakes are truly nature's hidden gems.
And you can remain here for as long as you like.
Before slowly allowing the scene to shift once more.
Into another quiet place.
Waiting patiently just beyond.
Hear the air softens.
The vast openness begins to gather inward.
And in its place something greener begins to emerge.
Your awareness drifts west now,
Toward a different kind of landscape,
Where the mountains give way to forests that feel older.
Deeper.
Ends quietly alive in a different way.
In Oregon,
The forests stretch for miles.
Layered in shades of green.
Some of the densest in North America.
Here,
Trees grow tall and steady.
Douglas fir Western Hemlock.
Cedar.
Many rising high into the air,
Their tops touching the sunlight.
While their lower branches rest in soft shadow.
Some of these trees have stood for centuries.
Growing slowly,
Ring by ring.
Season by season.
Holding time in a way that feels quiet and patient.
Moisture lingers here in the air,
In the soil,
Often settling into a gentle mist that moves slowly,
Mystically through the forest.
Softening sounds.
And blurring edges.
And within this landscape.
Tucked among the forest and hillsides.
There rests another leg.
Known simply as No Name Light.
Near Broken Top Mountain.
In the Three Sisters Wilderness.
East of the town of Bend.
This alpine lake sits nestled high in the cascades.
Fed by the quiet melt of the crooked glacier.
A place that is known.
And yet still feel somehow hidden.
This one feels different again more enclosed more shelter.
The trees stand guard closer here.
Their presence steady and grounding.
As though the forest itself is gently holding space around the water leads here is one that many have walked.
Especially in the warmer months drawn toward the beauty of this place.
And yet,
As you follow it it begins to soften becoming quieter.
Less defined.
As though the landscape itself is gently guiding the way.
And slowly revealing itself.
And as you follow the path,
Step by careful step,
The forest begins to thin,
Light shining through.
Space opening.
And the lake reveals itself through the trees.
The surface of the water stills.
Reflecting not just the sky.
But layers of green as the color seems to shift gently.
Between aqua green and blue.
Depending on how the light meets it.
You notice the way sound moves here.
More muted as though absorbed by the trees.
By the moss beneath them.
By the stillness of the air.
Somewhere in the canopy.
A squirrel jumps gracefully.
A bird shifts lightly.
Its movement brief and quiet before the forest settles again.
And if you imagine stepping closer toward the water's edge.
Perhaps finding.
A place to sit.
You feel a different kind of calm.
Not the wide openness the mountains invited in.
But something more contained.
More help.
As though the forest is creating a quiet boundary for you.
Where nothing beyond needs to enter.
Here,
There is no need to look far.
Everything you need is already close by.
The water before you steady.
The trees around you unmoving.
The air soft and still.
And as you remain here You notice how naturally your body begins to settle.
How your mind no longer reaching outward begins to rest.
And you can stay here.
For a few quiet moments.
Held gently within the foreheads.
And within your own time.
Without needing to decide.
Your awareness may begin to drift once more.
Not so much leaving this place.
But gently widening.
As though another landscape is coming into view.
This time toward a forest.
Older still.
In a different part of the country.
A place that has been carefully protected.
So that it can remain just as it is in the northern forests of Wisconsin.
Within a quiet,
Natural area.
There is another lake.
Known once again simply as No Name Lake.
This one is part of a designated preservation site.
A landscape set aside.
So that the forest can continue to grow without interruption.
In the northern forests of Wisconsin.
Within Schwarmageddon-McAlay National Forest.
In Sawyer County.
This quiet leg rests.
Here some of the trees have stood for centuries.
Eastern Hemlock.
White cedar.
Their roots deep and intertwined.
Holding gently to the soil and to each other.
These are trees that have witnessed many seasons.
Many quiet years.
Growing slowly,
Steadily,
Without needing to be noticed.
The forest floor is soft.
Layered with moss and fallen pine needles.
The lake itself is formed in quite a peculiar way.
A soft water seepage lake.
Fed slowly by the land around it.
Rather than by rushing streams or rivers.
Or trickling mountains,
No mouth.
The water gathers gently here.
Filtered through earth and root.
Creating a surface that feels calm.
Undisturbed.
Almost hush.
This is a place where wildlife moves quietly.
Imagine hearing the distant call of a loon its voice carrying softly across the water.
Echoing through the uneven land.
Or the subtle movement of a river otter.
Slipping in from the water's edge.
And then floating.
Gracefully barely disturbing the surface.
High in the surrounding trees.
A small owl rests quietly.
Barely visible.
Blending into the stillness of the forest.
Beneath all those tall trees.
Life continues in small unseen ways.
Delicate plants growing only in places like this.
Where light and moisture remain in undisturbed balance.
Everything here.
Protected.
Not by walls or barriers.
But by intention.
By an understanding that some places are just meant to remain as they are.
As you imagine yourself here,
Near the edge of the water,
You notice how natural it feels to become quiet as well.
There is no need to speak.
No need to move quickly.
Even your thoughts begin to settle.
Becoming fewer.
Again,
More spacious.
Most likely.
Flowing slowly.
Without effort.
And here in this ancient protected place.
You can simply rest Nothing to name.
Nothing to define.
Just being here.
Yeah.
Held gently by the stillness of the forest.
And the quiet surface of the water.
And as this place settles around you.
You might notice how ready your body feels to rest.
Even more deeply.
And as these legs begin to gently fade into the background of your awareness,
You might notice that the feeling of them remains.
So that the way you felt in their presence stays with you.
A quiet stillness like calm water.
Settling on its own.
A sense of spaciousness.
Nothing needs to be done or figured out.
A sense of ease.
Of not needing to hold anything or to make anything happen.
You might even begin to notice how all of these lakes though different in their landscape.
Share something so simple.
And yet at the same time so meaningful.
Each one.
Known as No-Name Light.
A name that in some ways is not really a name at all.
Just a placeholder a space left open.
And perhaps there is something in that worth noticing.
It invites an understanding that not everything needs to be defined.
At the moment we try to fully name something.
We begin to shape it.
To contain it to place edges around it There is a wisdom in allowing these to remain as they are.
Without needing to hold them too tightly.
To notice without needing to label.
To experience without needing to explain.
Just allowing each moment to arise and to settle.
In its own time.
And perhaps these legs offer that same reflection.
Places that exist fully.
Completely.
Without needing to be defined.
As you rest here so cozy and comfortable in your bed.
Ready to meet sleep.
I wonder if there is something within you.
That could be given that same space.
Something that doesn't need to be named.
Or solve.
Or figure it out.
Right now.
Something that can just be just as it is.
No pressure to understand it.
No need to change it.
Just allowing it.
To rest.
As you sit with that.
Notice once more the connection of your body on your comfortable mattress.
Relaxing a little more deeply into the support of it.
The warmth of your cozy sheets or blankets.
Wrapping you in a soft warm hug.
The gentle rhythm of your breath.
Flowing in.
And out.
Perhaps allowing the exhale to lengthen just slightly more than the inhale.
A soft release without effort.
Your day is complete.
There is nothing you need to carry.
Anything unfinished can wait.
Just as these lakes remain whether we return to them or not.
Serene Steady.
Quietly resting.
In nature's embrace and as you continue to rest Imagine relaxation spreading through your body.
The way the stillness of the water spreads out across the surface.
Smoothing out ripples the relaxation spreading across your shoulder.
Down your arms.
Into your hands.
Through your chest.
You're back.
You are hip.
And down through your legs.
Into your feet quiet settling like the surface of a lake becoming completely still.
If thoughts arise as they sometimes do.
There is no need to follow them.
You can simply notice.
And let them pass.
Small ripples.
Moving across the water.
And fading,
Dissipating on their own.
Nothing to hold.
Nothing to push away just resting Breathing.
Being.
As the story begins to fade.
Allow yourself to drift.
Just a little further into rest.
Nothing to force.
Or name or define.
Just this quiet moment.
Holding you.
Exactly as you are.
You can stay here as long as you like.
Drifting softly into sleep.
Good night,
Friend,
And sweet dreams.
