Category: Nature

Sermon in the Wood

After ceremony, I fly in a bigger sky, on a higher vibe.

It’s a spiritually induced, clean connection.

Intentional attention to the presence of Creator.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

……that walk through the woods sure did me good.

Seeing Rainbows

Rainbow sightings excite childlike feelings of wonder and awe in me. Intuitively, don’t we all recognize the mystical energy rainbows emanate? The bridge between heaven and earth open before our eyes.

If only people could perceive the facet of our diversity like the millions of water droplets in a rainbow. Reflecting, refracting and dispersing light, creating a rainbow of humanity by bending our beliefs without breaking them. Something I call compassionate compromise.

Within us a rainbow exists. The seven colors of our chakras correspond to the seven colors of the rainbow. Held within us is also a vessel that holds unimaginable treasures. The riches of the heart can’t buy a single thing but it can connect you to priceless feelings of love. Love is a powerful unifying force. I find it interesting that the “pot of gold” in our internal rainbow isn’t at the end but in the middle. Our heart center is the source of a great treasure—compassionate love.

Seeing rainbows gives me hope that one day humanity can bridge the diversity gap with the colors of compassionate compromise. Both ends of a rainbow bend. Where they meet in the middle is the heart of humanity.

“In my world, everyone’s a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies!”~ Dr. Seuss

Summer’s Dream

My summer dream is here! The air is heavy with heat, the sun high and still. Endless ribbons of golden light flow through the cloudless sky. In the garden, the green promise of this season’s abundance dangles from every vine and stem.  An early morning surprise greeted me in the blueberry patch. I popped the plumb blue nuggets in my mouth, bursting the sweet pleasure between my tongue and cheek. Maybe tomorrow a few will make it beyond the patch boundaries to the house—maybe.

Having the first crop of hay tucked away in a quiet corner of the shed is the crowning achievement of my hot weather farm duties. Summer’s green fills the pockets of my heart with gratitude and contentment. It’s a priceless feeling of freedom, knowing you have enough.

This time of sun feeds more than the body. I’ll stow away the memories of these soft days to warm my spirit when the landscape turns hard and cold. Summer unfolds life before us, constantly and gracefully, each day a birth of possibility. The dream she has for us is to release our unlimited potential and prosper. May summer’s dream awaken and grow within you.

Take A Crack At It

I’ve been off the grid in Montana the last 10 days. This beauty was growing through the I90 pavement. She took her one crack at life and made it enough.

Sweet Drops

By the shift in the winds direction and speed I can tell the weather is about to change abruptly. The sky’s sunny disposition is no match for the clouds angry demeanor. As Wally and I make a bee line for the shelter of the shed they come, sweet drops of rest.

I take a seat on an overturned pail near the open shed door, peering through the curtain of rain. Wally waltzes over for a scratch behind the ear then lies on my feet. The distinct odor of wet lab cuts through the scent of fresh rain. I breathe in both deeply. There we sit, work waiting, listening to the peaceful rhythm of the rain. Peaceful because there is no hay cut or seed to put in the ground.  Rain and I have a fluid relationship. To a farmer rain can be a curse and a blessing. Weather is a master at teaching acceptance. Over the years, I’ve learned to move with the rhythm of the rain.

While thoughts tossing and turning in my mind are put to sleep by the rain’s song, I feel content. We control uncontrollable circumstances by choosing how we cope with them. Today, I’m choosing to sit and listen to the sweet drops of wisdom coming to rest in my soul.

Shady People

Not everything can live in the sunshine. On my early morning walk with Wally through our little woods, I noticed how happy the trillium and violets were blooming in the shade. Even the fanned-out ferns, which don’t really bloom, were content with their place in this world dappled with light. They made me think of the shady people in my life. How, in the presence of other people’s brightness, they burn. But in the shadows they shine. Their living light a reflection of this calm… cool…collected energy.

I appreciate the different sensitivities in our personalities. It’s not so much that their beauty is hidden but unseen. We have to enter the shadows to fully understand them. Something not all of us are willing to do. Most shady people I know are introverted and extremely creative. I can only imagine the brilliance of the inner light that sources their visions. Sadly, it is a light some can struggle to find. Sunshine and darkness can be equally blinding. That’s when the compass of our higher self gives us direction. Points us to that feeling of home within us. The place that keeps the light on.

We all thrive where we feel alive. I love my shady friends. Not everyone can live in the sunshine. Some people are made for the shade.

Divine Hour

There is a Divine power

in the early hours.

The morning star a tiny twinkle,

yet bright enough to make your eyes crinkle.

 

The hoe’s sharp blade breaks the soil’s crust

and pulls back a dark moist mound before another thrust.

Pungent earthy smells blow past my nose.

Here is a good home for pea roots to grow.

 

Sacred seeds of possibility

planted by hands soiled with humility.

Tenderly placed within the prayer of earth’s fertile womb

asking for each to bud and bloom.

 

Oh the ambitious garden projects spring pushes us to complete!

The sky’s daylight is beginning to retreat.

The gardener’s body is stiff and bones ache.

Just one more row for goodness’ sake!

 

I rise with Divine power

of the birth hour.

Today’s tomorrow,

can’t be begged, bought or borrowed.

 

 

 

Any “birdie” home?

The hum of my early morning barn chores is temporarily paused to listen to the prayerful song of returning migratory birds. With each passing day a growing variety has been calling our home theirs. From the woods, I hear the unmistakable throaty flute-like song of the Wood Thrush. Not to be out sung an Eastern Phoebe, perched on its favorite Maple tree, joins in with a two-parted song that it is named for; “fee-bee, fee-bee”. The Phoebe family has been returning to the mud and grass nest they constructed under our eave for the past ten or so years. It’s the warbling, musical whistle coming from the direction of our prairie that turns my ear away from all the other melodies. The expressive song is soft and gentle. As I make my way to a good viewing position of the nest box mounted in the prairie, I see a glint of azure blue flicker on the ground. The most heavenly blue I know.  Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, the bluebirds are back!

In the mid-20th century, the Eastern Bluebird numbers plummeted, mostly due to the depletion of nesting habitat. Due to the efforts of many organizations and nature loving people, the Bluebird population has rebounded. Gardeners are richly repaid for attracting Bluebirds to their yards as their diet consists almost entirely of insects. Long before backyard gardeners, farmers cultivated this beneficial friendship. In the beginning of the conservation work, farmers lead the way by creating “Bluebird Trails” on their land. Open fields near wooded areas are a favorite habitat. People once understood the importance of these interspecies relationships. Unfortunately, it seems to be something we have to relearn. My experience with the Bluebirds gives me hope.

Thanks to an environmentally conscious Uncle and his gift of a bluebird nest box, I became part of the efforts to bring their population back from the brink of extinction in the 1980’s. We banded fledglings, counted pairs and kept records on brood batches. I am eternally grateful for my early introduction to “Blue Birding”. I still have the gifted nest box. It’s nearly 30 years old and usually one of the first nest boxes of the dozen or more around our property to be claimed by a mated pair.

The delightful gentle greeting of the Bluebird’s song each spring reminds me of the worthiness in friendships. Relationships forged and fortified over time.  How together, each one saves the other. We must be vigilant of the fragile friendships we have with the natural world. I believe in the undeniable strength of our interrelatedness. It’s much better to think of ourselves as a part of the whole together than it is a piece apart. We are all living one life.

All I can say about my prayers for the Bluebird is that sometimes they are sturdy, built of wood and mounted on a high post with a predator guard.

Note: As the feature image above shows it’s always a good idea to attach entrance predator guards to help limit predation of the nest box.  Sassy kitty’s can put their paws in but they can’t reach down and get at the young birds. Remember to clean out the box after each brood has fledged. The bluebirds will build a new nest on top of the old nest material with each hatching (1-4 each season), raising the nest dangerously close to the entrance hole.

Earth’s Breath

On the cusp of this new season, Mother Earth’s breath smells of tender grass, sunlight and infinite possibility. Oh, the ambitious garden projects spring pushes us to complete in the light of one day! I’ve learned much about gardening over the years. All that collective wisdom can be summed up in one sentence. Garden chores may stiffen my bones but they soften the soreness in the world.

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” ~ Margaret Atwood

Unknown Territory

Here in Northeast Wisconsin, warmer weather is arriving painfully slow. Spring makes an appearance then disappears, taking her green magic with her. This time of year we experience what I call Old Man Winter’s dark white. The extended transition time weighs heavy on the spirit of many folks. As each dark white day passes, the anticipation of spring  grows green in our hearts. We know spring will come but we worry about how long it’s taking to get here. It’s precisely this “knowing” that stirs up the crazy in people.

I watched a pair of robin’s, hopping through the snow, stopping occasionally on a grassy patch to cock their heads sideways and listen for worms. Later, they were bouncing through the branches of our crab apple tree gobbling down shriveled up fruit from last season. They don’t “know” when or where their next meal will come from, yet they survive on the unknown, living life in complete acceptance of what is.

Weather, a master at teaching non-judgment and surrender, gives us daily lessons on how to release control and follow the flow. The robin’s made it look easy. Following the flow is all about the awareness of whether you are flailing or floating through this fleeting moment.  To arrive at this place of complete surrender, give up the narrow mindedness of knowing and widen your mindfulness of the unknown—explore the great unknowns.

“It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.”~ Mark Twain