SPRING WILDFLOWERS 2014

 WILD COLUMBINE ON DOLOMITE ROCK

 JACOB'S LADDER

 DOGWOOD BRACTS & FLOWERS

 ONE OF ONLY A FEW LARGE-FLOWERED TRILLIUM...BUT IT'S A START!

 PHLOX

 

PHLOX by the ROAD

 

BLUETS

ONE

One woman
One dog
One solitary place
One singular path
One song of the wood thrush
One nose sniffing all manner of ick
One and only bloom of columbine flower
One green heron scared up at the pond
One “thinking of you” card in the mailbox
One sessile trillium where none had been before
One song of the ovenbird
One vernal creek barely flowing
One repetitive drill of a sapsucker
One phoebe nest on the shutter
One happy thought of a friend visiting
One bright and streaked prairie warbler
One tick waiting for our breath
One deer carcass
One red-winged blackbird stopping by
One gobble from the hills
One honeysuckle seed, germinated and grown
One tree yanked and strangled by the vine
One patch of planted ephemerals flourishing
One hope that joy and sacrifice meet, and the world is saved.

April 2014

HOW MY PUPPY TEACHES CONTENTMENT

I've started a new ritual at Prairie Pond Woods; a little maneuver that gets me up and going. Every morning I walk briskly up the road to the pond, where Cyon plays like a dolphin in the water. Then I drop my back pack off at Kavanah to take an unencumbered nature walk. And finally we end up back at the re-purposed goat shed to do a little reflection for me and a little chewing for her.

I love this new idea, but I'm not sure Cyon does. She is teaching me how to be "inconvenienced by the things I love," which is what I said I was ready for when we decided to get a puppy.  After less than 30 minutes she is bored with her bone or deer jaw or antlers and wants my attention. She puts her wet head on my lap. She whines. She doesn't get that I'm writing the next great trilogy...or this blog.  She is a beautiful, loving, furry, four-legged Distraction. 

A high school girl I know tweeted this the other day.  Yes, a high-schooler:

"If everything were to go as planned then that would be my favorite day...ever."

Mine, too, girlfriend. Still waiting.

There is a golden nugget in life called Being Content. You can possess it at any time, but it is content to wait; wait to be acknowledged; wait to be picked up and held; wait until we catch the light it reflects and are able to finally see that, "Yes, I DO have to do this or that, but what if I let go of the pressure to do it?  What if I didn't do it now, but later? What if I just stopped in the middle of this and looked around with grateful eyes?" In our excitement at this new way of seeing, we can even answer in enthusiastic agreement, "Yeah, what if?"  

Ah, the head can give us the idea but our hearts must give us permission. I've been wrestling and writing about this lately, so bear with me. It's not because I have figured this out - but because I haven't - and definitely want to.

Today I listened for over an hour to the Brown Thrasher sing its couplets - double notes sung over and over (some with repertoires of over 1,000 songs). I like to think it is content to have these particular songs - and so he sings at the top of the trees, with great gusto, all day long.  I envy his singular focus.

My dog, on the other hand is like a cat on a hot tin roof, much like the thoughts in my head all day.  She chews her bone for 15 minutes, then goes off to explore a sound, then come over to me and drops something at my feet, then whines, then she runs to plays with a bleached turtle shell by herself, and finally back again to me.

This is not how I want these outdoor writing sessions to be - all staccato and distraction - but they will be.  I am slowly and gently giving myself permission to be OK with that. I can only hope I will get better at living completely in the moment, whatever that moment brings, however unplanned, and be grateful for it. To take every scene in my life...good, bad, distracted, contented and hold it close to my heart, because every moment has something to offer.

As I watch the thrasher leave its high perch and fly off to sing somewhere else, I'm reminded of another song. A song by Carrie Newcomer I heard recently at a concert. A song that more eloquently transcribes what I am trying to say.  Enjoy.

 

APRIL FOOL

Yesterday afternoon I drove down to Prairie Pond Woods to resume the "businistry" of  Heart by Nature Retreats. Upon arrival, I heard several phoebes calling and before I went to bed a barred owl hooted from the woods.  In between, I took a walk and a friend from down the road invited me to dinner at their cabin.  It was a lovely way to begin this next season of writing and hosting retreats for women.

Walking the paths in the afternoon sunlight with Cyon, the beginning of a blog post I wrote in 2005 came to mind: 



"As I approached the wooded trail-head at Spring Valley Wildlife Area, I noticed something about myself. For whatever reason, I was not focused outwardly at that moment, but inwardly, and sensed a slight physical change, a minor elevation of heart rate perhaps, the tiniest release of adrenaline maybe...the kind of change you might experience seeing a good friend approaching unexpectedly. The moment I stepped over the chain separating woods from parking lot and on to the path, I was aware of the great expectation of discovery and a settling calm inside."

This is how I feel being here again; looking forward to whatever the days bring forth.  Like a trail head I have never been down before, I am unaware of what is before me.  Is it a straight path? A winding trail? Is it steep or wet, and are there interesting things to see?  Each time someone ventures down any trail, old or new, mysteries await. 



The trails in my life have always been a little rocky, winding and less traveled.  They were built by the pain of inner wounds, friendship, beauty, God, more pain, nature and healing.  They have been maintained by solitude in the wild, wrestling prayer and love.





So every April I open my heart, the retreat house, and our nature trails so that other women can come to find their hearts in nature.  It isn't the most popular activity to do in our culture. I know that. It may be scary for some and others may find it a foolish waste of time.  But I am an April fool...so when the creatures begin to stir and the earth magically greens-up in small bursts...I just want to share it with all the other fools out there!  

BIRD WATCHING AS MEDITATION

MAY 2-4, 201

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