Summer is in full bloom at Little Pond! So grateful for the spring rain and random downpours that have made our gardens healthy thus far. Needless to say, however, another heat wave approaches, and we shall see who sustains their vibrancy.
As a part of the natural rhythm of life, you wonder what it is that provides such richness of spirit and overall sense of well-being we long for yet sometimes miss during our busy lives, especially as New Englanders grab whatever nice weather they can. When you know it will end, there’s almost an unspoken pressure to fit everything in before it all falls away.
The sense of limited joy can really overshadow those moments, those pockets of vibrancy that show up unlooked for. Take the butterflies, for example. We know pollinator plants invite the amazing winged wonders to our gardens, and we marvel at their grace, yet after a few weeks (if you’re lucky to have them that long), they vanish. You may ask yourself, did I stop to admire them? Did I even notice? And can we fathom for one second how hard their lives have been thus far?
Every spring, we have an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail visit as soon as it’s semi-warm. She beats everyone to it, and we look with joy and feel the ease of greeting an old friend after a dark and cloudy winter. She lets us know all is well once more, the flowers will bloom, and the trees will flourish. Yet as of this hot July, for the last two weeks or so, she disappeared. We sit and admire many others, but we also often think of her while meandering among the purple coneflowers, bee balm, and milkweeds.
Fleeting moments sprinkle the summer landscape. Our milkweeds invited a Monarch who travels from the front to the back of the property and all over the field of clovers (freshly mowed now, but we left a healthy patch). I’m excited that our apiary area also hosts monarch caterpillars and plenty of milkweed for food. How beautiful to see the pollinators make room for one another and give space. I know it’s not all paradise, for sure, while I watch super dragonflies on the prowl for bees. They are both beautiful and vicious, similar to our lives at times.
Recently, I found a fabulous article about the Monarch’s life cycle if you want to take a look here 🙂 It’s a wonderful habit to study up on what plants and animals make their home from your environment. This research habit formed ten years ago when we bought our magical property, and I always consider this part of our stewardship, creating spaces to invite the creatures who can use our help and thus give us so much in return simply by being here. Believe it or not, it’s hard for me to put into words this essence.
Our wild blueberry patch that grew two fold since last year supplies the Eastern Cottontails and two families of turkeys with food, so we accept our jars go empty! The incredible energy of our land already provides that vibrancy to us in unspoken ways. Think about places you go about and not even notice how the natural environment impacts you. “# Get Outside” is a phrase that one of my dear former students would say to inspire his peers to get off their phones and head into nature, and this simple, yet powerful essence stuck with me. I repeated it year after year to my students to help wake them up to what is out there, to make them notice, to make them see, to make them care.
Realizing getting outside into a healthy environment is a blessing, not a given, spreading the sentiment that the power of nature can transform is pivotal to youth, especially. A walk in a nearby park, a visit to a friendly neighbor’s garden, or participating in your local library’s community offerings of outside play and learning are great ways to teach children how to take in what Ma Earth gives us each day. Who knows, your grown-up view may adjust, too, when you’re reminded of what miracles are out there living among us.
As I honor #GetOutside nearly every single day, my mind shifts from whatever may have brought me down to gratitude and appreciation. Reality checks arise when the world around me quiets from time to time, but I know that my home, my solace, is here, among the trees, the flowers, all the plants and animals, my sacred place, honestly.
Nature doesn’t judge if I’m grumpy or “late” for a walk. The responsibility I have to it doesn’t hinder on disaster if I simply don’t get to it that day or even the next, because I will get to my chores eventually. The only pressure I feel is self-made, and the last few months of stillness and pause revealed this to me through being outside. I’m beyond grateful, though I may have seen it as only struggle at the beginning of it. I think of what the beautiful butterflies and moths endure to grow to what they are. Yes, an old metaphor of metamorphosis, but it works perfectly.
Walking barefoot in smooshy grass, observing the pollinators, and hiding from the roasting sun are all gifts there for us for free, no expectations, no one to answer to, simply there. Though I’m without a daytime “job” right now, my fresh title of wanderer fits nicely.
The trees, the birds, and the pieces of nature all around me may just have something to say.
I know I’m listening.
Blessings!
