Snowy Dog Walk In Scotland (Sleep Story)

This is an original sleep story written and recorded by Rachael Corral. You will set off from your cozy cottage with your Bernese Mountain Dog Harris and enter the serene snowy Scottish landscape. You will marvel at the beauty all around you before turning home to a hearty soup. You will then cuddle up in your favourite armchair and be lulled to sleep by the crackling fire. This is a gentle guided story for all ages and is accompanied by Celtic-inspired music by Chris Collins.

Transcript

Hello,

My name is Rachel and I am going to take you on a snowy dog walk in my home country of Scotland.

Now imagine yourself inside a cottage nestled in the snowy Scottish landscape.

The cottage is white and would be almost invisible against the snowy backdrop if not for the vibrant red trimmed windows and welcoming red wooden door adorned with a festive circular wreath of deep green foliage.

The cottage windows glow with a golden light as you sit inside,

Couried up in a plush armchair and draped in a tartan woolen throw.

The cottage is a haven of snug tranquility.

The lamp beside you is casting a gentle glow and the air is infused with the comforting aroma of mulled spice and burning logs.

You are soothed by the soft crackle of the fire and the rhythmic snores of your furry companion who has taken up their favorite spot by the fire.

You feel in a cocoon like comfort as you gaze out of the window at the stillness.

The only movement you can see is the dance of snowflakes.

You take a sip of your warm winter spice tea savoring its flavors of cinnamon,

Cloves and nutmeg.

You could easily lose track of time here,

Settling in with your favorite novel and hunkering down for the whole day.

But you know that your furry companion is desperate to explore outside,

To immerse himself in the sensory wonder of jumping through the snow.

And,

As a Bernese Mountain Dog,

It is in his nature after all.

And deep down you also feel compelled to give yourself over to the elements,

To feel the frosty air bite at your cheeks for a while and then return again to this cozy sanctuary.

So you take the last warming sip of your spice tea and remove the woolen blanket from your lap as you begin to rise from the armchair.

Harris raises his furry head and turns to look at you with his soulful eyes,

Clearly analyzing your next move.

You let out a small laugh and say,

And say,

Yes Harris,

It's time for a walk.

And at that he springs up like a pup,

Eager paws prancing with anticipation and tail wagging happily.

He follows you through to the boot room as you prepare yourself for the conditions outside.

Salopettes are pulled up over your soft merino leggings and you double up on jackets.

First your downy middle ear and then your hard shell to keep you dry.

Snow boots go on next and finally your gloves and hat Harris watches patiently,

Almost as if he is sympathetic to the fact that his human isn't as suited to the snow as he is.

With his thick tri-colored coat in shades of jet black,

Clear white and rich rust,

Bred to work in the mountainous regions of Switzerland.

This gentle giant is always ready for a walk in the cold or a romp through the snow.

You pull the latch on your sturdy wooden door and open it to reveal a blanket of freshly fallen snow.

You are immediately hit with the whiteness of it all and your eyes blink a few times to adjust to its brilliance.

As you step out of the sheltered confines of indoors,

Your eyes settle to this new reality and the surroundings come alive.

The world feels sharper,

More defined,

A bit like stepping into a new twinkling realm.

Harris is off in buoyant,

Bounding strides through the two foot of snow.

It looks effortless as his powerful hind quarters propel him up and forward.

It takes you a bit more effort to get going as you make your initial plunge into the thick snow.

The sound of each step makes a satisfying crunch and you feel the resistance as the snow eventually yields under your weight to leave deep impressions in the otherwise undisturbed landscape.

You stop and bend down to scoop some snow in your glove,

Cupping your hands in a path to cake motion until you have compacted and rounded it into a ball.

Harris stops to watch you,

Snowy muzzle just above the snow line,

His legs completely buried.

He tosses the snowball towards him and his big eyes lock on their target.

He bounds up to catch it,

Jaws open,

Just missing as it hits the snowy ground and disappears undeterred.

Harris nosedives after it,

Emerging sand snowball but delighted nonetheless.

By now his coat is dusted in white,

Almost making him look like a wizened old man with fuzzy white eyebrows.

The snow seems to accentuate each of the strands of fur,

Showing its thickness and depth and making him look like he has a regal white mane.

The interaction between dog and snowball is so joyful and a reminder of the simple pleasures bound in the changing seasons.

So you repeat the process of scooping up the snow and balling it in your hands and tossing it in the air and you smile at the comical determination that Harris is showing in his pursuit,

As if he is on a mission to conquer the fleeting icy invader.

While still smiling,

You decide it's time to end the game before you begin to feel the claw of the cold from being stationary for too long.

You whistle to Harris,

A sound that seems much louder than usual in this serene stillness,

And your trustworthy and loyal companion immediately bounds towards your heels.

You stride through the snow now in the direction of the pine forest,

Knowing that these tall sentinels will afford you protection from the worst of the snow.

You feel fully present in the moment,

Tuned in to the rhythmic crunching of your boots in the snow,

Your heart beating with this pleasant exertion,

And the inhalation of cold air hitting your nostrils,

Juxtaposed with the warmer exhalation.

As you near closer to the forest,

It strikes you how these towering pines,

Their branches adorned with snow,

Look like the mini ornaments which you use to decorate the white fondant on top of your Christmas cake.

As you step under their canopy,

You look up to see snow piles suddenly fall off from the higher branches,

Filtering down to the lower ones,

A bit like a pinball,

Down,

Down,

Down,

Until finally a sprinkling falls on you and Harris.

You laugh as Harris gives himself a little shake,

And you wipe away the flakes that remain on the bridge of your nose.

You are grateful for the tree-trapped snow,

As it means that there is much less on the ground here.

You don't need to concentrate so much on your footing,

And you have more time to marvel at the beauty all around you.

The waxy pine needles give a sprinkling of colour,

And any twigs,

Bark or pine cones not covered in snow become much more pronounced now.

You feel protected by this insulating canopy,

Which is keeping out any biting winds.

You hear the hooting of an owl in the winter air,

But you assume it must be in its roost,

High up in an evergreen,

As your eyes fail to locate it.

As you walk through the forest trails with Harris,

You notice him sniffing beside you,

And you imagine all the animals that he might be catching the scent of.

You imagine a red deer elegantly striding through the snow,

Its deep red fur standing out against a canvas of white.

Perhaps there might also be a ptarmigan,

A type of plump white bird usually found in the mountains,

But that is known to come down into the forests in winter.

You feel like this would be a hard animal to spot,

As it must blend in so seamlessly with the winter snow.

You are busy looking down at the ground for any animal tracks that might be there,

When suddenly you catch sight of a puff of snow coming off a nearby tree,

And a streak of orange.

To your delight,

You realize it is a plucky red squirrel,

With a delightful bushy tail and adorable tufts on its ears.

It stops for a few seconds on its ascent over the tree trunk,

And you feel such gratitude for being able to witness this sight.

It then disappears higher into the tree canopy,

And you hope that it has successfully found one of its autumn stashes,

And that it will now be hunkering down with a full tummy.

With this,

You start to notice the hearty appetite that you have built up from being out on this snowy walk,

And you are grateful for the pot of scotch broth soup that you have sitting on the stove.

Ready to be warmed on your return,

You are coming to the end of one of the slightly shorter looping trails,

And you decide that it's time to bid the forest and its animals farewell for the day.

Harris hesitates slightly at the forest's edge,

Ready to rejoin another trail and continue the adventure,

But you reach your gloved hand into your pocket and pull out one of his favorite treats.

With that,

He trots over to you,

And you know that you are back in his good books.

You give him the treat and a loving pat,

And he bounds off in the direction of home.

Soon,

The bright red of the cottage door is beckoning you home,

Like a beacon of love and safety.

As you open the door,

You are immediately hit by its warm embrace,

And you let out a contented sigh.

You take off the snow from your boots and step inside with Harris.

He sits down patiently as you reach for his towel and begin the ritual of rubbing the snow first from his head and ears,

And then his white crossed chest,

Before moving along his sturdy back and tail.

And then you crouch down to wipe each cute paw in turn.

He is the most obliging pamper client,

And lifts each of his paws to make your job easier.

When he knows you're finished,

He scampers off out of the boot room,

And you are left to strip off your outer layers.

You then head into your little rustic oak kitchen to heat your soup on the stove,

Enjoying the hearty smells of root vegetables,

Cabbage,

And beans.

You ladle it lovingly into your favorite bowl,

A speckled,

Textured one,

Slightly irregular due to being handcrafted,

And you head back through into your sitting room,

And place the bowl on your little log slice side table.

You turn on a lamp and head over to the fire.

You have to balance trickily on your haunches to add more logs,

As Harris has already collapsed in his favorite spot by the hearth,

And is clearly not wishing to be moved.

He does not even open an eye,

As you lean over him to poke at the fire and bring it back to life.

You're just turning darker now,

And you head over to a pile of logs to turn on the fairy lights that are woven in between them,

And give the room an extra dose of magic.

The fire and light creates pockets of gentle,

Warm illumination,

And you sit down in your armchair and reach over for your comforting bowl of soup.

You place it on your blanketed lap and feel the beauty in the simplicity of your experience,

And you know that there is nowhere you'd rather be.

As you finish your soup,

You place it back down and cuddle in more to your tartan blanket,

And you let your eyes settle on the fire and become immersed in the flickering and dancing flames.

You notice yourself becoming sleepier and sleepier.

The crackling of the wood provides a gentle lullaby.

The room is a sanctuary of peace,

And the fire serves as both a companion and a guide into the realm of sweet,

Sweet dreams.

Reviews

What a beautiful story & Harris brought back wonderful memories of my Standard Poodle, Zoey. She was white & loved to romp in the snow & try to catch snowballs that I would throw. I was happy when we went back inside and she would lay in her bed in front of the fireplace while I drank hot tea. Thank you for such a lovely story.

I was there whilst also snuggled under my duvet. I want a dog called Harris ❤️

A lovely story, beautifully narrated by a wonderfully soothing voice. Enjoyed it very much.

Wonderful sleep story! 💕

What a delightful story to brighten up my early morning hours! Thank you, Rachael🙏🏻🌟✨🌟💫🌟🙏🏻

I love your gentle stories, and your Scottish voice. So soothing! Thank you!

Enjoyed the walk in the glorious snow with Harris, so tranquil a relaxing journey to drift into slumber and dream of Scotland in the winter. Thank you Rachel. 🐨🦋🤗

💌Hello Rachael, this walk with Harris evoked so many joyous memories for me. I personally owned a beautifully natured bl/rust Doberman Pincher (Rescue Dog) named, Harris & he brought so much fun to our family along w many laughs & cuddles. I miss him. So thank you for this snowy ❄ adventure w Harris 2 the enormous Bernese Mt Dog. What a delight xo 😘🤗🌻🐱🐱🐨

Thank you Rachel for a lovely cosy winter tale just what I needed today as tested positive for the first time with Covid! 💙🙏