Sparkling Lotus Ink

let's wander like cats

images are mixed mid-week to present from the sunny/rainless time that's just now probably almost definitely getting ready to end.

this red sage is a new trademarked variety that's supposedly hardy through zone five.  We're now classified as 6b.  When we arrived we were 5a.  The shift is a lot more fun for a gardener born and raised in zone 7.  Entirely grim in context and collective root of the climate change crisis.

Am planning on re-potting or planting it this weekend. Most likely potting until this flush of blooms fade and then planting to encourage a second flowering in mid-autumn.   Meanwhile for this flowering welcoming it to the back deck where generations of the same hummingbird clan have been nectaring in my vacillating container gardens. 

We got the last side of the fence in place mid-week while it was still brutally hot in the early evening.   Was consequently running on half-power and a very sore body for two days.  Today is day three and so far I'm pacing my activities super mindfully.  Am still a bit uncomfortable physically from the effort of getting this sucker in place.  J had said repeatedly it was going to be a beast and I finally asked him to stop but now I comprehend a lot more of why he had to psyche himself up in that particular way.  The middle section went up seamlessly in just under a half an hour like we did it for a living year after year.  He'd been bang on to Eeyore over the final stretch early and frequently, though ...

Today the gate will be attached impending rain storms permitting.   Tomorrow for sure if they last longer than expected or arrive later than radar predictions.  This final part of our garden fence building project is going to be epic.  Especially from J's intuitive building skilz POV and also because it means he'll turn his outside world attention towards opening the pool and having that be ready for his morning and afternoon work breaks.  It's epic for me because I've been in the garden a lot most evenings due to ongoing watering needs.  I've come to know the feeling tone of its enclosed iteration without the full impact.  Is downright magical rather than claustrophobic as I'd feared. 

The physical gate itself has been a morphing testament to J's inner vision from the jump.  He saw what he intended to construct in his eye's mind and then worked with what we have to hand amplified by what he knew to be available at the local lumber yard. He's been there a lot since This began.  And has consistently felt comfortable entering and walking/driving through.  People wear masks even if some have a lot to say about it.   Quality of pressure treated lumber is going down due to presumed rushing of process to meet increased demand.  And EVERYbody's got something to say about that including me.

  the Yard has always been a center of considerable local activity but now it's also enabled former procrastinators - especially from the tech-centric class, like J, who worked long hours and then commuted a couple more per day -  to become rarin' to go lunch hour warriors.

I love seeing this and thinking of the larger collective quality of life shift it's creating - in various ripple effects - for those who've decided to respond to our shared life shifts in this particular way.  Just a few months before the pandemic locked us down here in MA it must be said that I felt partially adrift within a life/style that was equally locked in and at the same time entirely removed from who I planned to become when we moved here - who we knew ourselves to already be. 

I don't at all like the manner & context prompting either one of us to get ourselves and each other shock-waved into a form of action that's been too-long pushed into the realm of a future tense left unimagined at a practical/planning level.  But the enlarging - and fencing - of the garden has put us in a much different (far more balanced and rewarding) relationship with ourselves, each other, and our authentic capabilities to live a life much closer to our dreamy plans and the Place. 

     [spontaneously got up from completing this post when the rain began with a gentle patter.  Potted the red sage as planned and placed her in a position of prominence in the deck container garden. Finished potting up the overplanted calendulas I rescued from the field a few weeks back and began to situate in their permanent homes yesterday.   Put in the three straggler tomatoes that were becoming very straggly indeed.  Potted up six Sweet Thai Basils.  Working in the rain was amazing - first at my poolside potting table and then out in the field.  It took me through memories of every adult gardens' history and much relating to my teens and childhood garden bases.  Also girl scout camp.]

I dare to hope against hope for a certain clearly envisioned grace note following the gate's successful installment.  bulletins as and when.

today is a hush of deeper greening

Yesterday was a no camera day in which I was able to move my body gently and rest it in appropriate ratio and measure.  Today I woke after five deep sleeping hours.  Stayed up late because fibro is like that sometimes and also to wait for the predicted rainfall between midnight and one.  Wanted to see how hard the rain would fall.  The basement seedlings are fully hardened off and ready for planting in terms of dramatically vacillating temperature/full sun exposure but they've had zero rain/wind experience.  

The rain was gentle.  I stood inside J's office looking through the french doors with the overhead deck light on for a moment quick enough to prevent waking T who sleeps just beneath the blaring light's placement. It was enough to see the seedlings would get their first real natural soaking.  That's an important first experience for them.  I feel it enlivens their natural intelligence at a level that becomes more individualized and richly encoded via collectively shared experience.

  My gardenia bush was right on the other side of the glass.  Just after I turned off the light I stood in the dark with my forehead and palms against the glass panes in the door.  This plant and I have spent 20 plus years together.  I could feel her leaves thickening and growing glossier.  Their leaf-green color  darkening.  Water beading for graceful distillation within the upturned leaves.  I smiled and turned towards sleep in which I dreamed of her flowers.  

The dreams, though consciously un-recalled, insure my perspective is overwritten by the gardenia flower medicine spirit:  lightened awareness in mind and intention.  Regenerated and purified soul & spirit.  Yes.  It's one of my favorite vibrational signatures.  Known to some who read here as a single essence - to others within the blend Sight Unseen.

Not-bothering J during his work-related portion of the day - I stepped outside to be greeted by Mama mewing with a note of rebuke atop the lower deck's picnic table.  She was waiting for our shared morning inspection tour.  Usually I'm ready an hour or so earlier.  

***

above is a tree coming to life on our watch.   A dogwood I'm currently unable to locate in my tree ID link cache.  So many are from sites long gone.  Perhaps someone knows and will refresh my memory.  We have a few of this species that I'm encouraging to settle into the spaces where they've appeared.

The walk down to the stream from the back dooryard is fairly steep.  New trees grow at a 45 degree angle that eventually follows their strongest nature and sense of rooted gravity.

Birds are by now fully nested and thus situated for their summer family life to come.  Wild rose canes we missed in earlier sweeps won't be eradicated until the year round wrens etc. have safely situated elsewhere in later autumn.  Carrion vine I pull up whenever I see it.  Pulled up a youngish vine with a very long root just before I reached the bridge.  Mama prefers to sit at the rim of the incline and observe my navigations from a level-footed perspective.

I'll still be able to pull some vinca closest to the bridge.  But most of that will also have to wait for later autumn.   Each day it gets harder to come down the slope and enter this landscape within the larger place and think about things like responsible land stewardship.  My gardenia dreams already had my mind dropped into a calm and glowing awareness of collective Earthstar energy.  As the greening elementals and rising life force of everything from the stream bed to the rocks envelope all layers of our carbon form(s) it is an invitation for ceremonial and experiential laying-down of those forms.  It is a time frame close enough to my birth to feel myself beginning to steep in awareness  - to re-fit myself within the pure essence of human spirit as I most organically embody it.  And then to feel my spirit take a soft leap beyond that.  I feel a glimmer of starseed formation.  The particles of pure light and cosmic life force/energetic essence I contain.

co-mingling.  knowing exactly what peace and co-operative alliance feels, sounds, smells, and tastes like.  A microcosm of inter-mingled life-forms co-creating abundant pockets of nourishment and mystery.

The water's continuing to move in a steady way but there's far less of it.   I can get lost in the slow steadiness of its path through the rocks and plants.  This is an excellent spot to amplify the giving and nourishing practice of gratitude.

In the next small chunk of time we must commence scything the violet colonies, dandelions, etc. in order to have a clear view of the pond edges and, hence, Snappy.  After a day of ongoing study I see the creature isn't really any bigger than it was last fall.  Upon first sighting both this spring and last my brain registered a much larger animal.  From formative memory and also because that's the way my neurology encoded earliest life danger-trauma.  It doesn't have to be a familiar danger it just has to represent legit threat.   When it is legit everything about it mushrooms in size and scope-of-threat. 

all the more reason to keep the ground around the pond tended to.  This area is the green world's energetic epicenter.  Every year we cut the violets to keep the area less attractive to ticks.  But I like to wait until this later point in spring so that the hosts of flower have had their full unhurried chance to sing in unison right here in this lodestone of life and regeneration.

The massive wild rose warren above has sheltered many generations of various wrens and tiny warblers.  There's another at the edge of the field and a third in a place we always mean to cut back but, as per usual, other stuff took precedence.  I'm not-so-secretly pleased.  That particular warren yields fledglings who get all their earliest flying instruction at the edge of our top deck and the foundation rhodies around the corner of the house.  They fly from the rhodies to the maple branches beyond.  They fly from there to the electric wires and back down to their starting point on the railing of the top deck. 

The lessons coincide with the point in late summer when my studio is intolerably hot during the day.  It's sweet compensation to sit with watercolors - quietly exploring color until the excited noises of wren fledglings changes the script completely.  I turn slowly enough to be soundless on the other side of our dining room's front windows.  They can hear through the screens.  Their mother is stationed closer to the ground in a strong crotch of the rhodie.  Her instructions are unmistakable to mothers everywhere.  be careful.  remember what I told you.  I don't care what your brother/sister/the other children are doing you focus on what you're doing.  Now do it again. be careful.  REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU!!!

I treasure those weeks of the year and smile wide to spend these moments capturing memory into words.  For the next few months the green backdrop of these images shelter and amplify all manner of bird drama and behavior.    I love nearly all of them equally but my favorite birds who share their lives with ours are the catbirds, the goldfinches, and the hummingbirds.

A wealth of sweet rocket - all descended from the single surving seedling I brought from the old place - are now in bloom at the edge of the field.  Note in the background the self-seeded plant growing through the center of the gooseberry bush.

On the afternoon and evening when I spotted J's use of the augur we stayed out late enough to catch the first wave of blooms release their scent to the cooler air.  I can now say with authority that every third year there's a blast of sweet rockets blooming as far as their dispersal radius allows.  It's a very wonderful thing to see - an accepted and beneficial introduction to the landscape. 

[while writing this I heard the season's first nearby calls of the peregrine falcon who spends much of their summer and autumn time in the part of our land where we never go.  The falcon is a signal of constancy amidst humanity's state of devolving chaos.  Have been considering what I seek in place of anything my brain conjures for the word normalcy.   Rather than replacing various aspects of what the word must come to mean why not change the word I use for what-is.  Especially in the context of what-is it about tangible reality that holds the most value for me?

Constancy.  That's my word for what I most need, seek, and intend to build/grow/dream into my life, home, and this place.]

Didn't have gloves so I pulled only a few straggly clumps of goldenrod.  Picked out a massive number of burdock sprouts.   Looked around a lot and tried to envision the fence in place.

The whiskey barrel above contains assorted beets.  The stone in Mama's direct background used to mark the ground just beyond the original tilled bed.  Now it's a good 10 to 12 feet within the enclosure we're creating.  J took a day off and then went out yesterday afternoon to sink posts for the two sides with augured holes.  Then he dug holes and sunk posts for a bit of the third side.  Just up to the first gate post.  I saw the accomplishment around 6:30 in the evening with a great deal of surprised admiration. He was all oh yeah this was the goal for the day but it didn't make his goal's successful accomplishment any less amazing to me. 

It wasn't simply the physical task breakdown of the day's effort bringing our intentions closer to fruition.  It was the vision behind the way he'd tilled and planned the expansion's shape and how the fence would be shaped beyond the new beds.  He'd explained - oftentimes right on location while gesturing helpfully but I don't see beyond what's-there on the same wavelength.   In these moments I do what he does when we stand in the same general space and I'm the one explaining and gesturing.  Reeling off plant names left and right - trees and bushes too as the gestures grow wider in scope:

Nod.  put together words like oh yeah uh-huh sure.  I can almost see it. 

He has discovered post extensions via a buddy.  So that's how we're fixin' to solve the issue with the metal post lengths.  The wooden posts are taller to begin with.   All the same, thanks to Jamie's comment we're considering ways we might baffle below ground.  Burying in a deepish trough some of the left-behind scraps of wire fencing that isn't as sturdy but could be tied together in doubled panels.  My vote is to wait and see what, precisely, breaches the perimeter.  But I have ideas.

everything IS illuminated

pics taken at four different times over the course of two days.

Yesterday I weeded, re-topsoiled, and thoroughly amended a whiskey barrel in which I'll grow beets. I got a mixed variety packet because mixing varieties has led to family favorite side dishes.  Today I did the same with two whiskey barrels in which I'll grow carrots and finocchio.  J's been in the field a lot doing a second round of rototilling.  Tomorrow I'll seed two of the whiskey barrels and plant shallots in a bed he amended with the lobster casting soil conditioner and two bags of top soil.   It's late to put them in but I've been as late as the first week in June and still managed to reap a full year's harvest.  I find they do pretty well provided the soil's still cold enough to hold the night temperature for at least half the day. 

***

Today I had a responsibly quick visit with a favorite local friend.  Haven't seen her in person for upwards of a two and a half months.   The garden-oriented place where she works has set up online shopping and I timed my pick-up around when she was there and free to take five minutes.   We spoke of what was good and whole for both of us but also spoke of exhaustion and its many derivations.  We laughed.  Behind our masks we were both smiling.  I brought home thyme, rosemary and the last sage plant in stock.  And If I'm honest - this is the first time I've been out in the larger world that I wasn't incredibly saddened by all the many things there are to be saddened about/over in these ever-shifting days. It's pretty much the only time in a bit over two months that I've done something containing a social component as opposed to staying rigorously task-oriented and steeped in the nobody must linger vibe.   Lingering for laughter and traded confidences is the part of my former experience I've missed the most and the thing about my personal i-me-mine aspects that leaves me feeling most out of whack.  

And so I didn't think/contextualize about anything much - I was just in that moment socializing.  The masks didn't matter or in any way infringe on a single one of our combined Liberties & Freedoms.  It was sunny and warm enough if we stuck to the sun and the wind wasn't blowing.  Also had a chance to suss out the shape of this year's garden there in a different yet utterly familiar garden world.  The person who fulfilled my order was worried I didn't know much about plants or I never would have ordered three thymes.   My friend was asked to make sure I understood it spread farther and wider the happiest it was.  Nobody else could conceive it was true I knew quite a lot about plants and yet ordered 3 Thymes. We laughed and laughed about that  (I told you THREE THYMES now she isn't kidding when she says she was raised in a garden) and then pivoted back to our evolving days.

*** 

J also socially distance socialized today and arrived home with four generous bags of well rotted horse manure.  His friend has a connection.  They had it in the works for a week or so but J didn't want to raise my excitement level before the transaction was complete.  This is an invaluable development given all the newly tilled space we have to amend.  

***

Some of the pictures above were taken yesterday evening.  The sun came out just in time to cast that magical glow that steps everything out of time and space itself.    The last two pictures were taken yesterday morning about half an hour after it stopped raining.  Other pictures are from today in both morning and afternoon.

Tomorrow I'm turning off the heat mats under the plants in the basement.  Some, that have had two weeks without under-heating, will be moved upstairs to begin their hardening off process on the top deck.  This transition involves getting them situated in their transplant pots tonight and/or tomorrow morning.   There's a very beautiful co-creative wind at my back and I'm eternally grateful for that in these unsettled and unsettling times.

Namaste

 

here we go !!!

Day before yesterday was downright hot and the air quality throughout the county was afloat with many kinds of pollen.  I chose not to participate beyond a few cursory inspection tours of the garden beds closest to the house.  I'm thus declaring yesterday to be our first true day of Spring's greener beckoning magical phase.   Was in and out any number of times - listening to the landscape and allowing myself to be mesmerized by various specific plants and trees.  Last night there was a powerful micro-burst of rain and LOUDLY howling wind laced with a great deal thunder and lightning.  Many windows were open at the time and I had to rush to shut them.  J had fallen asleep upstairs and woke to hear the howling wind and rain that sounded like birdshot being fired through every portion of the sky.  He can sleep through a lot but not a wind like that.  He closed up our bedroom and met me in the doorway of the third bedroom/family lounge.  It was a northern wind and the rain had pelted into the room sideways for the ten minutes or so I was rushing around shutting up the downstairs.  I thought he'd be virgo-dismayed by the wet woodwork, rug, and chair but he only grinned and said isn't it wild?

Although I chose the evolving sanctuary garden for the lede image - it's not the way my Outside day began.  I went out the front door "just for a couple of minutes" and beelined down the sloping lawn to the yellow toad lily.  Cleaned her off and took a better picture for jude to find when she ventures by.  I was lavishly admiring as I worked,.  Seemed to receive confirmation of my hunch the plant would like to be divided in the fall.

Walked back to the house but then suddenly turned right and headed around it to discover the solomon seal buds have begun to open.  Made note of where I want to continue consolidating the forsythia with more incisive pruning.

Also checked on the Japanese Spikenard we put in last year.  It was one of those plants that just pulled on me like a tractor beam when we first got out of the car at our favorite nursery out in Amherst.   Once I'd made my wandering way to the source of strong beckoning energy I picked up the pot and hugged it close.  J kept asking if I wanted him to carry it but I just kept hugging and saying I was fine.  When we got home I set the pot right where it seemed destined to live.  

The location is a little too sunny for it to keep its leaf color.  I thought about moving it - mentioned the possibility to the plant and then about a week later I approached with the intention of reading the signs of its response.  The roots were FIRM and unyielding.  I'm staying.  I live here now.  And so I promised it improved conditions.  Consulted J. a few days back and in response he cut some leftover lattice to the size of the porch length behind the plant.  Today he's giving the swiftly actualized shade-aid a few coats of paint to match similar lattice at the bottom of the porch.  The shade-aid can be added or subtracted at any time of day.  Some experimenting will be involved but I'm grateful he had a much simpler solution than something I haphazardly described based on the construction of a telescoping shelf in the refrigerator.

This jack-in-the-pulpit is growing out of the enormous rock I introduced here.  Jude said the sense of Spring holds and even depends on the memory of winter.  I thought that was both an eloquent and elegant way of expressing my own sense of time, life, and this particular day's feeling tone.  Note off to the left a stray glimpse of carrion vine growing there on the rock.   It's been eradicated.   Took this picture on my second walk outside and removed the vine on my fourth.  It's been that sort of day - in and out and in and then back out again.  J's commencing to cut the grass so I thought I'd sit still and create this virtual walk. 

Canadian anemone abound at the edges of woods and on the 'far' stream bank.  The colonies sprinkled at the edges of paths and here and there in the woods spark joy for me - this is another friend since childhood.  The little cluster is nestled between roots of the maple that gave flowers to an essence bowl earlier this year.

This is the first garden you'd meet on the other side of the hemlock-lined path at the western edge of the field.  It used to be two distinct beds but over time they've become joined by colonies of milkweed and goldenrod.   Am introducing it because I've decided to document my reclamation of the bed.  It officially began today but for now I most want to share this:

A self-seeded tableau of green magic making under the gooseberry bush.  a Sweet Rocket plant seeded directly in its center and she is attended by several self-sown yellow foxgloves.  They are stalwart and certain of their Place here.   They haven't exactly rebuked my relocation plans but have made clear their intention to stay as they are.  And so I looked for ways to make their habitat more welcoming and attractive.    Today I began weeding in this spot for the first time in four or five years.  It's a space I love and always mean to [at]tend to but there are always only so many hours in a day.  The somewhat smaller originally square bed was planted with a single-stemmed plantlet from the gooseberry bush I'd been obliged to leave behind.  It was otherwise planted with  A. archangelica and Angelica purpurea as well as a modest colony of yellow foxgloves - all from the old place. Spearmint and orange mint hitched a ride of their own accord.  At this point the two mints are one of the bed's main acts from high summer onward  Somehow the space itself has co-created sequential ways to share nourishment and space. 

This is a close view of the area I hope to have re-cultivated by late October.  Will save tales of what's there and what kind of approach the various green ones have suggested to me during this morning's time there.  Got a bit lost squatting close for long moments of communion and consideration.  At one point this space was packed with plants from the old place.   During the latter half of our third summer here Graves Disease re-upped itself and the garden spaces throughout the property began to self-regulate.  I dreamed of it often and really never doubted it was happening but that truth lives side by side with my ongoing frustration to remain largely uninvolved due to how sick I was for the better part of three years.

Throughout this time there was a simple picnic table bench  at the edge of these two garden spaces.  I sat there frequently with Celeste sitting under or directly beside the bench.  A modest colony of milkweed stalks had appeared just before i got sick.  I encouraged them to stay and establish themselves.  fast-forwarding to now -  the former path was eventually obliterated by drifting milkweed and an ef-ton of golden rod.  Today I began weeding-out the goldenrod runners as gently as possible.  My extra care was rewarded.

The season's first milkweed scout was carefully re-covered with a loosely packed blanket of dried plant matter.   Am going to be fairly merciless with the golden rod in this area because I want to recolonize with more yellow foxgloves at the edges of the milkweed colony.  Will be saving seedheads - saving some for starting on the deck next year with intent to introduce them within the side-pocket spaces.   If there's plenty I'll also plant seed in the evolving sanctuary.  The bench is long gone but I'm going to start bringing my camp chair so I can once again sit in this spot.  It's a good place for day dreaming. Here's a quick peek at the main bed.  J and I have a two week timeline for getting the garden fence installed. 

In the background is a glimpse of J's completed roto-tilling endeavor.  He's juggling a lot right now but seems to be having an experience similar to my own in that stuff's getting done somehow.  Our ongoing byword seems to be:  essential.  What does that mean to us?  To me, or him, or our son?  What is essential for this new phase of life and any given day within it?   How do we show up for ourselves and each other so that our essential priorities are both nurtured and met?

Thistle emissaries are always welcome in my gardens.   I need to pitchfork and re-claim another strip across that's roughly the same width as the mulched portion.   It needs to be done very carefully as per dreams over the last month.    Along similar lines I can see that seed sowing of various kinds will be an ongoing effort for the next few weeks.    Day before yesterday I found balance and returned focus by fully organizing my seed packets in a small gathering basket.  I keep shuffling through them like tarot cards.  Have in the past often slept with bundled seeds tucked into my pillow case but I'm not sure I could handle the depth and specificity that might arise.  Have explained this while wandering and weeding in the main bed.

I did a bit of weeding here in an expanding  Queen of the Meadow colony.  As it's been expanding drifts of red clover have self-sown in a marvelous inter-planting.   Today The Queen's emerging stalks buzzed at me repeatedly.    You are asserting yourself.  We welcome you as one.

Soon now the entire garlic bed will be bristling with green shoots.

GAME ON

wandering amongst the side pocket garden beds

The above Browallia will thrive exponentially(understatement ...) once the tree leaves have unfurled to provide the level of shade this plant craves.

Today is the 10th anniversary of our closing on this Place after nearly two years of searching for it.  Afterwards J and I stopped back at the house we'd lived in for 14 years.  We stayed just long enough to change our clothes into garden grubs and grab the gardening soil amendments I was confident I'd be able to distribute over the course of that first afternoon and early evening.  Dream on!  A decade in we periodically laugh about that as well as many other things we assumed and presumed as brand new stewards of the land as well as the house.

***

Earlier today we took a slow tour of the [other] side dooryard and field - partly in mutual congratulation of all the dreams and ideas we've manifested in that time and partly as a way of adding to our singular and mutual to-do lists.  I took some pictures and then somewhat arbitrarily decided to feature images from yesterday.  I took them during a solitary much cherished Mother's Day ritual of quietly & slowly  examining the various plants that have come to me as gifts honoring that holiday.   I'm choosing to share them because they relate to garden spaces I don't tend to share very often.  The biggest reason for that relates to nesting birds and fledgling Safe Space I try to maintain until the later part of summer.

I call these the Side Pocket gardens because they ring a little side-shoot of our front lawn.  Each tiny garden plot has been designed to hold space within a Bee Highway (ultimately leading to the field) for the hives across the road.  The selected plants also service the fueling needs of wild honeybees, hummingbirds and a few species of bumbles.

Glad to see this foam flower has survived our strange green winter.  She was one of two last year but it looks like the moles got the better of the second crown.  Am thrilled with just the one, really, as this is a plant I loved only from pictures and rare woodland glimpses as a child.  Had to move farther north to see it more frequently in the woods.  And otherwise patiently wait-out a few decades before having a chance to grow it for myself as a cultivated garden plant.

Over the course of my gardening lifetime I've grown any number of Toad Lily varieties with the beautiful spotted leaf crown above being one of two favorites that are currently in residence.   The flowers are a beautiful brownish yellow that look a lot like delicate candelabras once the buds have fattened on slender branching stalks.

(I will remove 50% of the straw mulch debris over the next week or so as time allows.  Destination: the compost bin, where else. The other 50%  plus last year's fallen leaves will remain to decompose in place.)

Was excited to discover the Black Cohosh has begun to form a colony.  The flower stalks' scent wafts all over the yard once they've begun to bloom.  Once the tree leaves unroll themselves over the next three weeks this plant will have plenty of shade.  The leaves will turn dark purple in response.

   (Most of the little seedlings poking through the leaves are Jewelweed.   This plant is everywhere in the shady/moist pockets of the property.   It's beloved to hummingbirds - and me - so I always leave plenty of it as a bank behind this particular bed.  From there a weaving colony of individual plants will scramble down the gentle slope to the road.)

Here's one of two original Globe Thistles grown from seed under lights.  That was seven years ago when the bed was brand new.  Year before last both plants began to self-seed.  Last September I cut a few seed heads to scatter at the back of the Evolving Sanctuary garden.  This is a significant action on my part because it's one of my few plans that formed ahead of moving here that hasn't been either seriously altered or obliterated altogether by one kind of naturally occurring reality check or another.
I love the aging Hellebore coloration above because it's closest to the [wildly inaccurate] picture on the nursery plant ID label.  It took three years for the plant to flower and then it showed a single raucous plum and lime green bloom that stymied me.   I'd been looking forward to cream colored flowers with delicate raspberry edges.  But the bees don't care about my inability to shift my expectations seamlessly.  This plant - plus the surrounding ocean of pulmonaria - provides reliable nourishment at a time when options are somewhere between slim to non-existent.

This year the plant showed its appreciation of our clearing more space for it last fall.  It's been dazzling me with three flower stalks - each loaded with blooms.  The hot bright green interior isn't visible unless I make a point of looking for it - assuring the flowers I'm getting used to the different look from what I was expecting.  At a less hands-on level the dark plum bells that are constantly visible fit in nicely with the general vibe of that tiny quiet-feeling corner. 

The individual side pocket beds form spokes surrounding a grouping of trees, rocks and a naturally occurring elderberry bush.  Hummingbirds, goldfinches and catbirds nest and raise their young among those trees.  The catbirds in particular relish both the elderberries and a wealth of wild rosehips/blackberries.  They're my favorite bird-resident here both personality and song-wise.  Their yearly arrival is an important milestone for me.  I greet them joyously within knowledge their ongoing elaborate songs and my eventual inclusion in the flying games of the offspring are about to provide emotional ballast on the joyous end of the spectrum.  This year I cried a little at the amount of happiness the alpha male's initial Song of Greeting scattered throughout my emotional field. 

Originally the bed above contained three bee and hummingbird friendly plants:  the mountain mint which is seen above and, before that plant (labelled, amusingly enough, 'very modest spreader' but I'd grown it before and thus knew better) consumed all available space, two wild columbines and a low-growing NE native monarda species. 

The latter jumped clear of the bed and is now covering a lot of ground that's accessible only to bees and birds.  If I want to see it once it's flowering I have to walk down to the road and loop back around to stand on the street and peer through the zoom lens of my good camera.   Have done this once so far and it was a scary proposition due to road traffic.  This year who knows.  It seems likely I'll be able to safely pick some lilacs that grow out there just shy of the road - plus maybe also see the monarda flowers depending on how sane or senseless this state decides to be moving forward.

I rescued the columbines but one expired due to Something Unknown which kept attacking it in its new location.  The other has flourished  - Two years ago producing a daughter who in turn has produced a daughter of her own.  The tiny addition of a third generation was another thrilling discovery for me over the weekend!

For reasons I can't understand the above image has flipped itself and refuses to be re-oriented.  It's bothersome to me but realistically it really only impacts the three people beyond myself and J who read here and also know the gardens as they are in real time.   I planted the lilac and hydrangea 8 years ago.  Behind them is a clump of white peonies that J goaded me into accepting at our town's May Day celebration 5 years ago.   Beyond the peonies there's ladies mantle, lemon balm, and also  Siberian Iris transplanted from the Evolving Sanctuary.  In years past part of our Mother's Day nursery crawl has involved getting a few second year Korean Angelica plants to grow against the fence just behind the iris.  Have not succeeded in growing any from seed nor have they elected to seed themselves.  

Angelica archangelica was my Mother phase's plant ally just as Violet guided and nourished my Maiden phase.  Mugwort arrived right along with menopause to announce herself as my Crone's guiding light.  Part of making the transition seems to involve releasing attachment to 'having' Angelica of any kind as a stalwart presence in the outside world.  I'm still a bit attached at a soul and internalized level although mentally I've made the jump in as total a way as I can manage without the rest of me being full on board yet.  It's a process, isn't it?  Letting nature have her Way with one's inner pictures of Self as well as whatever does or doesn't grow ...

a single A. archangelica flower head at the old place.  one of hundreds upon hundreds over the time we lived there ...

spring continues to build energy

Today J's burning what he didn't turn to ash on Sunday.   Mama and I went into the field early so we could have a smoke free inspection tour.  For me hardly any everyday activity is more inspiring, joy inducing, and grounding than taking a slow and thorough garden tour of what's growing and/or looking ever so slightly different from the day before.  One of the few things that's 'better' in my view is doing the same thing with an accompanying cat.  

Mama cat is a girl of tree leaves, rocks, and sunlight - an outdoors-loving creature who had never been exposed to the feline delights and mysteries of a cultivated garden space. This is her third growing season here and she's learned the ropes as well as finding her own meanings and purposes within the framework of my cherished routines.   Sometimes I feel like my departed darling Celeste is prowling right along with us.   And of course she is since she lives on in my heart

While the fire dwindled J started dragging logs to create a dedicated pathway.  It curves with the windrow and then snakes through the woods.  Saw him dragging the woods log and took great heart in how happy he looked. Of the moment which can be tricky during times of life-transition that wasn't planned or actively sought.  For the moment we aren't just okay - we're good.

I mean really.  What are the alternatives?

The Speaker tree has expanded a great deal since J eradicated the encroaching Sumacs.  Some are remaining at my insistence. For one thing they're really beautiful full grown trees despite my husband's low opinion of them in their Child form.  And if we lose any of the hemlocks at the property line* the sumacs can create some measure of privacy.

*The vigorous clan of very healthy hemlocks is on 'our' side of the line, luckily enough.  We have new neighbors to the east and long uncomprehending experience has taught me that oftentimes what new people in a place seem to want/need to do first and foremost is exert their authority and control by going on a tree-cutting spree.  Long before we moved here the garden ornament above lost his eyes.  Have been trying ever since to think of a kicky reinvention of the "even a blind pig..." catch phrase that relates to a blind fox.  Nothing's bloomed yet.  But I do enjoy the fact that the fox is guarding what used to be a hen house before the outbuilding became rabbit centric and then later on we arrived to turn it into a potting shed. 

(if anyone can think of a clever 'even a blind fox' ... re-write of the common blind pig expression by all means share in comments)

This time of year a lot of my inspection touring focus centers on taking note of where indigenous herbs are growing most plentifully.  Today I discovered the whiskey barrel above has seeded itself liberally with red clover.  This is a favorite healing herb of mine so I decided on the spot to dedicate the space to the clover rather than using it for shallots as planned.   There are also a number of self-seeded anise hyssop plants which I intend to move to transplant pots.  Once they've filled out nicely in the pots I'll plant them in the garden.

Yesterday afternoon I planted garlic.  Although it's a bit late for that I'm not worried.  The heads will be a little smaller but they'll still taste great.  Especially since they got the lion's share of our home-brewed compost and a generous helping of wood ash.

After planting I sang to the bed since I didn't have my rattle with me.  This was my first fully-present and well-grounded act since a deeply disturbing non-Covid death over the weekend.  I took my time getting re-calibrated extra gently one step at a time.  If you're waiting for an email from me this is why you haven't received it yet.  When I'm in certain frames of mind connected to my former Job it always seems wisest and kindest (to myself as well as everybody else I know who is a "civilian" in such matters) if I confine my communications to those who have also had that Job or, for whatever reason, have a special gift for unpacking the particular traumas associated with both suicide and those it leaves behind.

*******

Chickweed has been a favorite plant since I was a little girl and had no language for (or conscious awareness of) why I loved it so much.  On the first day J burned I wandered all over the property searching out the places it was growing most abundantly.  It's everywhere!  Absolutely everywhere - just like gorgeous extra large red clover flowers were everywhere in the months prior to 9-11. 

[Red Clover flower essence has a uniquely important function as a shield that protects our souls and psyches from the fears of others.   This allows us to disengage from such fears and find the truth of our own feelings as they are, rather than amplified through the feelings of others. When people email or call me these days wanting something that will "fix" the level of fear they feel in themselves I always suggest they begin with Red Clover in order to isolate what points of focus (and level of fear) actually belong to the person who's asking for help.  Back in the months just prior to that other time in our collective history when we were allegedly changed forever I sensed the flowers knew something I didn't.  I prepared a 'new' essence even though I had a perfectly good mother stock I'd prepared just the year before. Over time I've come to believe the flowers that bloom within challenging time frames are the best of their species to help us with the specific challenges we're facing.

What's interesting (at least to me) is that back then the same personality types who now want to do away with fear 'like it never existed' - at that time were all about disappearing their anger.  I had a very strong feeling - and obviously still believe - that a lot of the situation-specific anger was born largely from the flames of other peoples' fears.   These days the largest congregations of people and their emotions are coloring the atmosphere here on the internet.  Since we're all crammed together entirely by choice it stands to reason there are all sorts of collective roots and tendrils that need to be put on mute in order to deal with the issues and fissures that are authentically personal in nature.]

So.  Chickweed was the topic.  It's really everywhere this year and i wonder if anyone else is having the same experience?  Email if you'd like a more detailed back-and-forth conversation.  Sometimes the email button at the top of the blog sticks.  But if you hit it a second time you usually get the screen you're looking for.  I keep thinking I've fixed it to no avail so am assuming that's an internal bug of some kind.

While I was looking around I started moving the thin strands of chickweed stems on a particular plant that was rooted precariously on the front curve of the fire pit.  In the process I managed to dislodge the roots.  I stood apologizing quite sincerely to the green  strands in my palm.  You can make something helpful with me!  The plant was vibrant and very much ready to do something useful together but there wasn't really enough of it to make an infusion on my stove's warming burner.  So once I was inside I added dried flowers of prunella, calendula, and red clover from my herbal pantry.

Then I learned a new thing due to the previously unopened olive oil being stored on our garage pantry shelf.  It wasn't that cold of a winter but apparently it was plenty cold enough for the olive oil to grow thick and in some places solidified into tiny chunks.  Knew they'd melt as the brew warmed but I wondered if the oil had spoiled and was inappropriate to use for skin-healing purposes.  Am including this link in case anyone else has questions/concerns of a similar nature.  Simply bringing the big tin canister into the house has eliminated the oil's thickened quality.

Once the flower buds start to open I will harvest enough chickweed to make a tincture and also a simple one-ingredient itch-away oil.  Providence willing I'll also make a flower essence.  Have a mother stock prepared from another species of the same plant years ago.  Would love to preserve the healing agency of this medicine spirit as it lives in this specific place as well.  Fingers crossed.

*****

T had his first IV treatment yesterday after which he felt woozy and 'adrift in false energy'.  So he came home rather than proceeding to work.  Since he has his mama's tiny child-like veins it was a bit of an ordeal getting him properly stuck.  Consequently they sent him home with the iv and tube still attached to his arm.  He found it easier to sleep on the couch than in his bed.   When I crept downstairs to check on him I discovered Mama was already on the case.   She guarded her Special Person throughout the night with great diligence and care. 

a second day of unexpected sunshine

When I first got up this morning I couldn't wait to get out in the field.  Really wanted to see how the energy had changed for the volunteer windrow now that J's successfully removed all the Russian Olive trees that were a serious nuisance.  Below is a picture from mid-afternoon yesterday.

The big pile of brush between J and the fire pit seems far less invasive in this form. 

This looks so much better and far more to the point the white pines feel so much happier. The invaders from next door were really cramping their collective style.  but not anymore!

The picture above is a close view of the group's Speaker.    I know this because about a week ago one particular tree sitting slightly apart from the rest began drawing attention to itself.  I am the speaker for my group.  Usually I'd get this repetitive impression while I was deeply engaged in a garden task that couldn't be stopped mid-stream.  Finally we got on the same wavelength. 

I am the speaker!  The tree's exuberance reminded me of Nancy Pelosi doing that slow smiling turn with the gavel in her hand just after the mid-terms.

There was a slight breeze as you can see above.  I had my rattle with me. Moved directly in front of the tree without further fanfare.

"Hello.  I, too, am the speaker for my group."  I shook the rattle very quietly and then a bit louder.  Its tiny white stones moved in a percussive slurry that quickly found its rhythm.

  "Out here, where our groups meet their energies and purpose, this rattle is the speaker for your land's dreams and our combined heartbeat."

(to be continued)

how you would meet and greet the windrow - Speaker first - if you approached them from the woods path rather than entering the field from the front or back dooryards.

and these would be the last two of the group to meet and greet if you followed the curve of their colony from one end to the other.

this day as twilight nears

Around noon Mama and I went out J's office door and took a little walk.  She sat at the top of the slope down to the water and observed my ongoing process of being there on the center of the bridge.   She used to feel like she had to be with me - trying to understand.  Think she concluded she preferred to keep my bridge-standing on her radar from a distance.

I take in the water's energy and let it nourish my own.  Sometimes I get an impression that starts an internal dialogue I wasn't expecting or resolves something that felt too messy to untangle so I hadn't tried.  Sometimes - like today - I simply stand and let my mind go blank.  It was a little too chilly to stand there until every muscle let itself go to the sound-healing of water music but long enough to leave the bridge with a sincere smile.

Those soapy looking bubbles come every spring.  It lasts for a while and then stops.  I have a couple different theories about the bubbles but today I thought for the first time to address them.  To ask where they come from - what makes them?

I will admit I did not wake up in a state of open-hearted YES-ness this a.m.  But once I was out and about as part of the landscape I began to get some semblance of a groove back.   Below I avoided cropping for composition's sake in order to show ALL of the frog eggs in the little pond.  And yes I know it's dirty as well as what that 'means'.  But I also know there has been virtually no time since the ice melted when the frogs haven't been going at it.   J. feels it's inhumane to interrupt them when they've just re-animated, etc.  They need to make a lot of eggs to get a few surviving frogs because there's a troupe of sparrows that dine on the pollywogs.  Last year there was a young snapping turtle as well but this surprise addition seemingly disappeared at a certain point in very late summer. 

Once it's clear the frogs' egg laying cycle is complete we'll start gently extracting leaves with the pitchfork from side angles.  We get a bit more skillful and non-invasive each year.

The trees are waking up more and more.  It's a subtle form of springtime vibrancy but very powerful because of its slow rise.  The cat and I stood taking stock of the day's silent messages.  Mama turned with abrupt certainty and led us back to the front of the house.

This volunteer foxglove is so ready to get things going!

PLUS ...
My basement seed starting operation is in use as of this morning!  T. donated his college daze computer table as an adjacent work station.  For me that's an improvement over schlepping the full flats twice a day across the room to the long work bench where I used to do it.  T.'s commandeered that section of the basement at my invitation.  I'd planned to use the top of the freezer but that was far from ideal and a different directional schlep.  Was touched by the contribution.  This is perfect for conserving core energy for me.  Also nice to be working directly beside the plants' heat and light sources once they're growing and I need to water them beyond surface misting.

So far I've planted some of all the seeds pictured above plus dark opal basil.  Used the green and dark opal seedling to help me know the difference between tomato plants from different packets.  Did four of the Blush cherries and eight of the Gourmet slicing mixture.  Also grow a six pack of the San Marzanos.  I also have five more types of seeds to plant in part of another flat.  Yesterday evening there was a momentary kink when I saw the new six packs I ordered are REALLY large.  I must have clicked on the wrong button for the size choice.  So I'll have to go with re-used six packs from last year's seedlings to get started.  I'll transfer from there to the bigger six packs and then, hopefully, into the 'stocky transplant' pots I I also purchased.  

Additionally I'm super happy with the quality of Gardener's Supply Warehouse brand seed starter.  Time will tell how things sprout but I'll then also get to test the quality of the brand's potting soil.   There's a place right up the road selling bags of rotted horse manure but you have to inquire within.  J and I are past the point of being comfortable with that formerly normal and totally neighborly way of getting what you need around here.  Probably 20 or 30 different people are involved "within" as the stable boards and breeds.  So we'll be budgeting amendments from what's on hand until I find something that seems workable for us.  Feel fortunate we over-bought straw mulch last year.  Something told J. it was imperative for the spring.  He's not the type to be that way but every once in awhile he gets feelings.  This hunch will be invaluable for the welfare of the new beds.

*****

Insta-cart grocery shop fulfillment was stressful this time although that's no fault of anyone involved.  There were just a gazillion  substitutions one right after the other and sometimes it wasn't clear which of the alternatives had been selected for us.  But when the order arrived and we got everything situated in the first stage of our decontamination process we saw everything made sense beyond an extra container of cocktail tomatoes but I already have a plan for that.  J. was particularly happy about the meat selection substitutions.  From what I saw from my vegan's 'social distance' it looks like the swap-outs will be more enjoyable for both the guys than what I originally chose yesterday.

(today I also hit Dick Blick online to stock up on gesso, YES paste, hinged linen tape, glue sticks, and a handful of drawing pencils but that's a story for the other blog.  I'll share it when the package arrives and the stock-ups have been through our evolving de-contamination process.  Gassed up and hopefully ready to go absolutely nowhere my car has become a sort of holding tank for surfaces that need more than 72 hours before bleach cloth wipe down, rinse and life-integration.   Virgos do not play with things like a highly contagious rapidly mutating virus and J. has been gradually refining our system. Tonight we're going to re-organize everything on the garage shelf he built to hold the canned/non-perishable food cache.  Make it more of a working pantry than a storage shelf.)

the Healing Lights blend components

 life's coming at all of us pretty fast and at times furiously these days.  Amazed to find myself somehow on projected schedule with the next two posts.  The recipes I'll share in each relate to flower essence blends I co-created - in both cases in a flower led/guided manner -  last summer. 

(An essence blend is a mixed-flower remedy in which a variety of floral components are included in the same essence preparation bowl.  Making it the vibrational equivalent of a stew/blended oil or tea infusion.)

The flowers in this particular remedy are common and in most cases indigenous to my particular region. I include each flower's unique contribution to the blend so that you might consider how you could prepare something similar from flowers you have to work with where-ever you are.

  I also encourage you to investigate what other online sources have to say about the vibrational healing properties of the specific flowers I've included - as well as those you're drawn to work with where-ever you live.  Younger alchemists are organically aligned with a much higher receptive frequency.  Those who are willing to share what they know often crystallize the elemental nature of a flower's vibratory/healing signature far more elegantly.

Healing Lights

an all purpose healing & illumination remedy comprised of 7 flowers:

Elecampane

These strongly architectural flowers love an opportunity to thrive. I've been lucky to have successful colonies in two locations.  In both places the flowers have beckoned for inclusion - first as a single essence in my ever-growing collection of home-made flower essence mother stocks and then, 17 years later, within the blend bowl now being described.  Grow this plant in your own garden for a wondrous unfolding of large - at times VERY large - lime green leaves topped with sunny yellow flowers that remind me of the fringed two-circle paper flowers my mother taught me to make as young child.

The Elecampane healing signature speaks of light and lighten-ing.  Great for anything that's stuck in your belly - especially in the spiritual or metaphorical sense.  Keeps the solar plexus chakra and its associate energy centers well hydrated.  This helps prevent getting stuck in ideological despair or over-charged zealotry that can only lead to burn-out.

Calendula

Calendula is a gem of a healing herb that I believe everyone can and should grow.  Long known as Pot Marigold, it's as suited for containers as the ground.  Give it good sun and its resinous vibratory sun will give you its healing spirit.  If you have time and inclination, I invite you to watch the short (2:32) video linked in part because its human Speaker, Deb Soule fully personifies the joy and gentleness that speaks to Calendula's vibrational/communicative gifts.  In the middle she sells just a little bit but in the most understated and joy-full way imaginable. This lady is the real deal and a genuine treasure of an herbalist. Strongly strongly encourage you to bask in the 2.5 minutes of her heart's light.

Calendula's healing and illumination gifts are classically associated with communication.  It seems to me the connection goes deeper to matters of ego involvement.  The solar plexus-throat chakra bridge is central to both right thought & action.  We certainly see in today's world what happens when those in power short-circuit the bridge by running on Ego and proscribed Ignorance.

Each of us has similar yet unique power: the power of voice. Calendula's energy softens and strengthens our voice.  It makes our tone-range flexible in both speaking and thinking planes of communication to self and others.

Saint Johnswort

Pictured above at the trailing end of a long-gone summer solstice's golden hour - Saint Johnswort grows wild in my chosen home state.  I have loved getting to know the flowers' healing properties - first by way of gathering flowers in the company of two friends living on Cape Cod.  I recall our 20-something excitement and the many bees that tracked our every move until we were back in the house filling carefully sterilized recycled jam jars with flowers and apricot oil.

St. Johnswort essence is an ultra-effective auric cleanser and high-vibrational protective shield like no other.  There's a lot more that could be said but I think the true seed of its versatility and usefulness is distilled in the single sentence.  see also/in conjunction with:  red clover at the end of this flower portrait profile list.

Comfrey

Comfrey was considered an unspeakable pest by the gardeners who taught and shaped me as a child.  I didn't really understand what a glorious beautiful presence She brings and how fully she deserves some Pride of Place in any garden until I was back there in those pivotal early 20's years.  At the northern edge of my wild field garden two comfrey crowns at long last claim that rightful place.  One was transplanted from my former garden (pictured above) and another arrived in the same transplant bucket as the elecampane crown that spawned the plant giving flowers to this remedy.  Both crowns offered flowers to the bowl in equal measure.

In flower essence terms Comfrey holds a longstanding reputation as a master healer.  It's also graced with a very grounding energetic signature that helps to slow or stir the mind to greater balance/full potency as need be.  I look on its inclusion in this remedy as another source of psychic and emotional/mental hydration.  Like drinking enough water and/or regular alternate nostril breathing/brain oxygenation. With an vibrational taproot that knows what it's about as a full-service healing agent.

Prunella

Prunella is more commonly called Self-Heal but I'm partial to her formal name. I find this flower indispensable in my therapeutic skin oil infusion blends.  The flowers also hold long healing associations with the bladder and kidney.  I can attest to its restorative/constitutional property in maintaining strong kidney health following a terrible complicated summer-long experience with kidney stones and ever since.  At my last physical my doctor declared me having kidney functionality of a 25 year old. I credit this flower in its dried hot infusion form for such a strong recovery.  That and a 95% low oxalate diet.

Prunella flower essence supports self-accountability and diligent self-maintenance in all matters of healing and wellness.  Have been gathering anecdotal evidence to suggest the remedy's popularity is cycling to strong interest levels because it supports authentic self care and the mindfulness that gives rise to all forms of functional and vibrant Care moving outward.

Monarda fistulosaBeloved to bumblebees, hawkmoths, and my neighbor's honey bees my garden's thriving multi-crown colony of this regional beauty was started from seed under lights in the basement.  Last summer marked the first year I felt permission to gather flower heads for my family's herbal medicine chest.  Two full vibrant heads offered themselves to the flower-guided blend bowl.  Also prepared a shredded flower head tincture we all use for mouth rinsing and skin application for a stubborn crack or tiny abrasion that's slow to heal completely.

All Monarda/bee balm flowers hold a strong affinity for our brain/general body's electrical circuitry.  It's rather similar to the affinity all Rose flowers have for the human central nervous system.  Monarda fistulosa, in particular, speaks to our ability to assimilate and more effectively upgrade our nervous system's capacity to identify and filter the human landscape's noise-to-signal ratio as well as cosmic bombardment upticks.  Such a filtering system is permeable without being friable.  This is an invaluable differentiation to make and foster as the dreaded 2020 dystopian hellscape bingo aspects of larger (alleged ...) reality begin to pick up speed, volume, and fury.

Red Clover

Red Clover flowers became the center of my healing & wellness universe when perimenopause came calling with drenching night sweats and unsettling hot flashes.  I also paid note - given the flower essence's primary healing & illumination property -  to how abundantly red clover flowers bloomed and prospered in the spring/summer of 2002.  Some friends confirmed and further said they'd noticed the uptick in the previous season - before the 9/11 attacks as well.

Red clover's vibrational signature shields our minds and subtle bodies from the ongoing erosive impact of other peoples' fear factor(s). 

nuff sed.

hello i love you .2

Early last week I took a two hour wild-cat strike from my life in order to visit the old friend above.  This is the Shagbark Hickory tree I've made allusions to in other posts.   It was an absolutely smooth & easy re-union of earthly souls and cosmic spirits.  Caught my first glimpse from the road driving in - marveling that it's now a smooth aphalt road rather than roughshod mud and rocks.  When the hickory's crown first crested into view I exhaled in relief.  It was to be a ceremony of celebration rather than a letting-go/restrospective experience. I was the only apparent human in that part of the larger landscape.  When I first emerged from the car a young red-tailed hawk fluttered silently from one bare tree to another.  I had my phone out with the camera ready but the bird flew further afield.  This left me free to call out to the Hickory as soon as I began crossing the road from the ever-so-famiilar spot where I'd parked. 

A very big chunk of the Everything - all the different facets that have led me to approach the natural landscape as the inherent microcosmic framework of All That Is was learned, questioned, refined, and tirelessly developed by wandering through the forests and fields of conservation land where this particular tree is located.  It's the first Tall One I approached with a consciously co-creative intention:  Hello.  I would like to be your friend.

When I last visited this piece of land, a few weeks after we closed on our Place here, I walked through many parts of it saying goodbye to 14 years worth of time and time immemorial itself in the scheme of all I had learned.  I saved The Shagbark Hickory tree for last - telling it i was going to live in a place with many many hickories.  All coming from a Grandfather much older than this tree's Time.  I felt the tree in some undefinable way exalting in its reception of this news at a tree level - crown-to-crown.  a human who Knew would now in turn be known by Elsewhere trees. 

I walked three clockwise spirals around my friend's rootline(s) - talking aloud the entire time.   Eventually I drew close enough for an embrace.  My communion with the tree's spirit turned inward.  I pressed my forehead breasts and belly against the tree's trunk telling it Everything there was to be told.  About what it had come to mean to me over time.  How often I dream or think about it.  I recalled the delicate and swift adjustments this tree made within its own energy flow the nano-second its medicine spirit realized the force of its obviously joyous response to a far more tentative and fully-Unknowing embrace from me had been momentarily frightening enough to shrink back inside myself. 

Those years ago, when that happened, the tree re-calibrated the velocity of its energy exchange with fluidity and grace.  And although over time whenever I've recalled that moment I've felt a trace of shame that I didn't trust enough to just flow with it rather than shrinking back - as I stood once more with the actual tree I saw there was no shame. What the tree had taught me about its responsive intelligence level was a stunning gift to receive.  It allowed me to approach each and every tree I've encountered since with reverence and an authentic sense of honor to know them.

I stood silently in an embrace that felt entirely mutual  - making sure to express some pivotal experiences in which I felt myself in the tree's position with another human and did my best to find both grace and timeliness within my internalized and expressed re-adjustments.  I said it had been life-changing for me in the way a tree's life-time drops many nuts to seed the life of many more trees.  Together we vibrated.  It was a similar harmonized frequency.  I was there.  With my friend.  Both of us remembered and in various ways treasured one to the other.

(I thanked the tree, repeatedly, for believing in me enough to let me know its essential Nature.)

This is the strong and sturdy Approach I've used all the times I've hugged this tree.  The close-up shows so well how this particular species gets its name.   If you follow the trunk to its other side you see its wound.  I will admit I was shocked to see how much has changed - how much further decay and erosion - in a single decade.

(if you follow that link you'll see what the top of the wound looked like about a dozen years ago.)

Now it reminds me of larger tree hollows where people hide - or meditate for shamanic effect.   It looks like a kind of mantle a person could wear if they were strong enough to shoulder such magnificent weight & meaning.  I took these pictures after realizing the tree seemed to be doing the same thing this much smaller survivor has done.  The tree is winding into itself.  What looks so much like UNwinding in the other tree might instead speak of a much larger tree than what the living trunk suggests.  I'll have to look at the base of the other tree and see what that reveals, if anything.

do you see?
scroll down to next post to compare.  Sure looks like the same botanical mechanism. In this case it is an internal unwinding that's hard to see because of the shadows on that day's occasion.  I was amazed and astonished to make the connection.  If there's anyone reading who'd be able to help me/the rest of us add to our knowledge base - such as what is this self-healing mechanism Called and how much of the tree's various layers are involved in getting the re-stabilization goal achieved - please share your learning!