Two purple spring crocuses growing toward the light.

Happy Spring!

Sunday, March 20, 2022



🌲❄️🌲❄️🌲❄️🌲

... isn’t play the way we get limbered up for the work of the world?


- Robin Wall Kimmerer



🌲❄️🌲❄️🌲❄️🌲



Today, I feel grateful for:


1) outdoor time with Todd and Storm in our forest where I became enchanted by a fallen, living tree. All I wanted to do was climb it and explore it. The tree was horizontal, roots upturned, yet it was still alive. Its bark was fresh with the recent rainfall, and I allowed myself to become barefoot and balancing... eventually lying down upon this tree friend and resting. I could feel the back of my heart relax with nature's love.


2) a peaceful family day with good food, games, and re-exploring each other's love languages.


3) continued contact with my friend, Lena, in Ukraine.


Thank you for being in this practice together,


💙 Rain


~~~~~

Such Singing in the Wild Branches


It was spring

and finally I heard him

among the first leaves—

then I saw him clutching the limb


in an island of shade

with his red-brown feathers

all trim and neat for the new year.

First, I stood still


and thought of nothing.

Then I began to listen.

Then I was filled with gladness—

and that's when it happened,


when I seemed to float,

to be, myself, a wing or a tree—

and I began to understand

what the bird was saying,


and the sands in the glass

stopped

for a pure white moment

while gravity sprinkled upward


like rain, rising,

and in fact

it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing—

it was the thrush for sure, but it seemed


not a single thrush, but himself, and all his brothers,

and also the trees around them,

as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds

in the perfectly blue sky— all, all of them


were singing.

And, of course, yes, so it seemed,

so was I.

Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn't last


for more than a few moments.

It's one of those magical places wise people

like to talk about.

One of the things they say about it, that is true,


is that, once you've been there,

you're there forever.

Listen, everyone has a chance.

Is it spring, is it morning?


Are there trees near you,

and does your own soul need comforting?

Quick, then— open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song

may already be drifting away.


~ Mary Oliver

Atop a fallen, living tree, I crouch down for a picture.

Last Day of Winter

Charlotte, Vermont



P.S. If you click on the photo above, you will be led to a few guided meditations. I welcome you to listen to them. The titles rotate over time.

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I stand with Ukraine. 🇺🇦

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Thank you to Aaron Burden for the crocus photo in the header image.