What a beautiful day at Little Pond! True to New England, we began in flannels, jeans, long socks, and boots. By ten in the morning, out came the shorts and t-shirts!
Motivated by the great weather, we set out to save a sycamore sapling from near the gate. Its roots, at first surface, headed within a foot of the foundation with only about two years of unexpected growth. It showed up out of nowhere, and today was the day to save it!
Nearly an hour of hand digging later, one main root snapped. With a prayer, we planted her away from the house, in sun and near water. Whew! Let’s hope! It will also serve as my druid studies planting; all eyes are on the sycamore!
October, what a glorious time! Yellow, bronze, reds, and oranges dot the blue sky, something we’ve been desperate for as weekend after weekend brought rain and grayness.
Though it’s not the worst experience to find gray days; afterall, those days are what make our blue skies and sunshine so remarkable. They demand we go inward, if not for making a hearty stew and hot cocoa.
Today, we relish in the amazing trees. Our sweetest and most devoted land stewards watch over us, leaning into times that are tough, and providing the warmest hugs after a long day.
The great ash! She stands nearly alone in her liveliness while those surrounding her diminish. In her company, hickory towers over the driveway, smothered by his copper leaves.
The balance of aliveness and falling leaves brings to mind the beauty of what summer brought us and what we now let go of. We have much to learn from our trees.
Hearty, robust, strong, and reliable, the great ones stand as powerful sentinels from corner to corner, but among them, our oldest, our wisest, begin to fade, year after year. Yet, there is no shame.
The birth and regrowth cycles our seasons share with us serve as examples of how our own lives mimic nature in the most beautiful way.
We aren’t meant to stay green forever. Like the great oak at our brookside, with her mighty gaps and holes, the time arrives when we aren’t the newest or freshest thing. Maybe it’s a job. Maybe it’s a lifestyle. Nevertheless, October comes to sweep it all away.
Those gaps and holes don’t take away who we are, but allow room for space. In that space, peace lives. Uncluttered by stress, drama, demands, or worries, space breathes.
In the breathing space, we find a lunar eclipse to wash away the detritus of the past, what we have learned from and can now let go of.
In the breathing space, we find excitement for what is to come and the time to take rest and ponder just what that may be as our winter approaches.
In honor of my sister Ash tree, I choose to replenish my spirit, to live and let go as the leaves drift away in the bluest sky.
I do not worry about what is ahead, but instead I embrace a fresh wind on my face, and I say thank you. Thank you, Ash. Thank you, Hickory. Thank you, land, for the reminder of how to live and let go.
Blessings:)
