I am not the only one watching for signs of Spring.
Celebrating the Earth
This year’s Spring vacation was actually a “stay-cation” and I couldn’t be happier. I spent a glorious week noticing the daily subtle changes in my own backyard. Every day is Earth Day to me and every moment of every day has it’s own, never-to-be-replicated beauty. From a gathering of bluejays to a spectacular sunrise, blink and I miss it. Gaia calls us to be fully present to experience her rich bounty.
The daffodils in my garden lift their joyful heads to the sun.
I celebrate the early spring color palette with each new blossom and blade of grass. Blink and I miss the brilliant yellow daffodils in my garden lift their joyful heads to the sun. The yellow forsythias wave their arms in greeting. The white, delicate lace flowers of the serviceberry act as a veil between me and the clear blue sky. “Everything is holy now,” Peter Mayer wisely wrote.
“Everything is Holy now” wrote Peter Mayer.
Blink and I miss the yellows and whites make way for the purple of lilac and hyacinth and the delicate pinks of cherry and dogwood. Each has it’s own cycle within the greater cycle of transformation that forms the wheel of the year.
Blink and I miss the little place in my garden where a rabbit is preparing a nest for her young. One day, I noticed the mulch in a flowerbed pushed aside. Soon, dried grass and straw appeared in a neat little pile. Then, this little nest materialized. As I write and look out my window, the nest is completely hidden from view by a mother who instinctively knows what to do for her young ones. How much wiser would we be if we were more attuned to Nature? What do we know that we have forgotten?
Mulch and soil are pushed aside as a mother rabbit prepares a place for her babies.
Ok, confession time. At the time of the Winter Solstice, I hung a wreath by my front door. Amazingly, it stayed perfectly green through December, January, February, and most of March. I should have taken it down but procrastinated. By the time I thought about it again, I noticed a bird flitting back and forth from the wreath to wherever she needed to go for food and… you guessed it… building material for her nest. Well, what could I do? The wreath is brown and brittle but she loved the location and gave birth to three wee ones. When they fly the nest, I’ll toss the wreath. I promise.
A winter wreath becomes the birthplace of three birds.
Honoring the Earth
I could sit in reverence all day every day, observing the beings in my yard live, grow, and eventually die. The cycle of birth-death-rebirth is the natural way of things. I know. But Mother Earth calls me to action. It’s not enough to take, I must give back to stay in right relationship with Her.
I honor Her by vowing to be a steward of the land entrusted to me for as long as I live here. Ancestors of bloodline and ancestors of place are with me as I cut back dead raspberry canes and clear the space around my grapevines. I hear my grandfather’s voice echo in my heart, gifting me with his wisdom of flora and fauna. I see the rainbow of jars in my grandmother’s root cellar- her connection to the land made visible. I sense the presence of those who tended this plot of land long before “my people” even set foot on the shore of North America as immigrants in the early 20th century.
So I garden without herbicides and pesticides. I hang prayer flags and make offerings. I grab a lawn chair and my watercolors for a quick plein air session with the tulips and squirrels. I pick up every bit of trash that blows into my yard. It’s heartbreaking to see a birdnest with trash woven in among the grass, straw, and twigs. I plant native species and compost as much as possible. I do what I can the best I can.
Most importantly, I sit in silence and listen to her many voices– the wind, the rain, the birdsong, and my own contented sighs of belonging. Call it prayer, call it meditation,… I call it CONNECTION.
Being in Relationship with Mother Earth
I love them all… all of the beings on our beautiful planet. My view of “beings” has greatly expanded with my awareness of indigenous cultures and earth-centered traditions. Trees, streams, oceans, plains, mountains, polar bears, glaciers, bees, wolves, … do you get where I’m going with this? We are all connected. All life is one.
I weep for the fact that we live in a time where we have to march to protect our planet. In less than three centuries, we have littered the world with plastic, fossil fuel pollution, and chemicals. We have killed more species than I can fathom- extinct, gone,…forever. We continue to threaten all life with our choices and this breaks my heart but I’m hopeful that we are raising awareness and more of us are doing what we can to help the environment… for all of us…and I do mean ALL OF US.
I pray that we can educate and enlighten the ignorant. I also pray that love, light, reverence, and stewardship quickly replace greed, hatred, destruction, and domination. May we each do what we can to protect our home… our Mother. I hope you take part in one of the marches around the world next Saturday. Raise your voice for those who don’t have a voice.
Mother Earth, Mother Earth,
Take our seeds and give them birth.
Father Sun, gleam and glow,
‘Til the roots begin to grow.
Sister Rain, Sister Rain,
Shed your tears to swell the grain.
Brother Wind, breathe and blow,
Tell the blades so green to grow.
Earth and Sun, Wind and Rain
Bring to life the living grain.
Waldorf Song for Children (Writer Unknown)