Spring Fever

It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want- oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!

-Mark Twain

Photo of spring buds courtesy of Di's Eyes on flickr.

Silvery Snow

Winter came down to our home one night

Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,

And we, we were children once again.

-Bill Morgan, Jr.

Photo courtesy of krystian_o on flickr.

Cold Winter

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.

-Andrew Wyeth

Photo courtesy of the always amazing Giles C. Watson. Thanks again for allowing me to borrow a bit of your stunning work.

Thanksgiving Prayer

Thanksgiving

We return thanks to our mother, the earth,

which sustains us.

We return thanks to the rivers and streams,

which supply us with water.

We return thanks to all herbs,

which furnish medicines for the cure of our diseases.

We return thanks to the moon and stars,

which have given to us their light when the sun was gone.

We return thanks to the sun,

that has looked upon the earth with a beneficent eye.

Lastly, we return thanks to the Great Spirit,

in Whom is embodied all goodness,

and Who directs all things for the good of Her children.

An Iroquois Prayer of Thanksgiving

Photo courtesy of Jeff Holbrook on flickr.

Treat the Earth Well

Treat the earth well.

It was not given to you by your parents,

it was loaned to you by your children.

We do not inherit the Earth from our Ancestors,

we borrow it from our Children.

An Ancient Native American Proverb

Photo courtesy of Giles C. Watson on flickr.

Wise Words

Listen with your head, but speak with your heart.

Photo courtesy of Treescaper on flickr.

The Rigs o' Barley

It was on a Lammas night,

When corn rigs are bonie,

Beneath the moon's unclouded light,

I held away to Annie:

The time flew by, wi' tentless heed,

Till 'tween the late and early;

Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed
To see me thro' the barley.

Chorus:

Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,

an' corn rigs are bonie:

I'll ne'er forget that happy night,

Among the rigs wi' Annie.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,

The moon was shining clearly;

I set her down, wi' right good will,

Amang the rigs o' barley

I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;

I kissed her owre and owre again,

Among the rigs o' barley.

Chorus.

I locked her in my fond embrace;

Her heart was beating rarely:

My blessings on that happy place,

Amang the rigs o' barley.

But by the moon and stars so bright,

That shone that hour so clearly!

She ay shall bless that happy night,

Amang the rigs o' barley.

Chorus.

I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear;

I hae been merry drinking;

I hae been joyfu' gath'rin gear;

I hae been happy thinking:

But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Tho three times doubl'd fairley

That happy night was worth then a'.

Amang the rigs o' barley.

Chorus.

-Robert Burns, May 25, 1777

Photo of a Scottish barley field courtesy of tubblesnap on flickr.

Impermanence

"That nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first mark of existence. It is the ordinary state of affairs. Everything is in process. Everything—every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate—is always changing, moment to moment."

And so too is this blog. To be perfectly honest, I don't handle change well. I like the familiar and the wonderfully comfortable and I'd be thrilled if a great deal of my life never changed so much as one iota from day to day or even year to year. Granted, this is odd coming from someone who finds the changing of the seasons and the cycles of the earth so beautiful to experience, but I don't need to personally fret over the details of Mother Earth because I'm not in control of her. I am however in control of my blogs, or so I thought at any rate, and as such I tend to fuss over every last little thing because I'm a perfectionist in addition to being willingly and blissfully stuck in a rut.

The other day, in a very uncharacteristic moment, I thought it might be fun to change my blog. Then I remembered what a pain in the ass I am and decided it would be far less stressful to just let it be. So, it was with great annoyance, as well as quite a bit of surprise at the timing, that I received a note today informing me that the website from which I had gotten my background templates for two of my three blogs is shutting down and I had only a few hours to either find something new or find myself with two hideously plain blogs. And after hours of test-driving templates, I have come up with nothing I truly like. I'm not terribly fond of this gray, but as I'm not a frou-frou kind of girl, finding something simple isn't easy. I miss my warm orange blog. I miss the earthy colors I had grown so used to. I find this gray rather depressing, but in trying to roll with it, I'm going to take a lesson from the Buddha: "Nothing stays the same so get over it already" (obviously, I'm paraphrasing here). And one day, hopefully soon, I'll find the template that warms my heart once more. And it might not be gray.

Many thanks to the incredible Pema Chodron for that quote.

True Peace

The True Peace

The first peace, which is the most important,

is that which comes within the souls of people

when they realize their relationship,

their oneness, with the universe and all its powers,

and when they realize that at the center

of the universe dwells Wakan-Taka (the Great Spirit),

and that this center is really everywhere, it is within each of us.

This is the real peace, and the others are but reflections of this.

The second peace is that which is made between two individuals,

and the third is that which is made between two nations.

But above all you should understand that there can never

be peace between nations until there is known that true peace,

which, as I have often said, is within the souls of men.

- Black Elk, Oglala Sioux and Spiritual Leader (1863-1950)

"Appeal to the Great Spirit", bronze, Cyrus Edwin Dallin, 1909, at the entrance to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Photo courtesy of AntyDiluvian on flickr.

Whiling Away a Summer Afternoon

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time."

-John Lubbock

Photo courtesy of honeybSF on flickr.

Worshipping Earth's Gifts

O our mother the Earth, O our father the Sky,

Your children are we, and with tired backs

We bring you the gifts that you love.

Then weave for us a garment of brightness...

May the fringes be the falling rain,

May the border be the standing rainbow.

-A Tewa Pueblo Prayer

Photo courtesy of alfaseen on flickr.

What is Magick?

To my mind, 'magic' is the hard-to-define quality of the things that stir up mystical feelings like amazement, curiosity, imagination, and above all wonder.

Magic is that which renders something beautiful in a spiritual sense. It is that which makes one feel as if the world is more than it is presently understood to be, and yet at the same time the world is working itself out in a good and beautiful way.

Magic underlies the relationship between us, and the greater immensities of birth and death. Thus the experience of being in the presence of something magical is an empowering, uplifting experience. Magic, understood this way, contributes meaning to life.

- Brendan Myers

Photo courtesy of Christopher_Hawkins on flickr.

The Spiritual Nature of Trees

"The groves were God's first temples."

- William Cullen Bryant, "A Forest Hymn"

"When you enter a grove peopled with ancient trees, higher than the ordinary and shutting out the sky with their thickly intertwined branches, do not the stately shadows of the wood, the stillness of the place, and the awful gloom of this doomed cavern then strike you with the presence of a deity?"

- Seneca

Holy Vale, St. Mary's, Isles of Scilly and Beech Roots, Avebury, Wiltshire both courtesy of Giles C. Watson on flickr.

Spring Days

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade.

-Charles Dickens

There is something truly beautiful in the straddling of two seasons at the same time. I find it incredibly energizing to feel the warmth and the chill simultaneously, to see the green in bloom yet still be wading through the last of winter's mud and to be aware, in a very visceral way, of the changing of the seasons and the earth's wheel always, always turning. It makes me almost giddy.

Photo courtesy of bubba2tish on flickr.

Nearly Spring

And Spring arose on the garden fair,

Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;

And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast

rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, from "The Sensitive Plant"

Photo courtesy of Emblita on flickr.

And So Thinks the Witch

"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity...and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself."

-William Blake

Photo of the oak tree near Ashdown House courtesy (once again) of the amazing Giles C. Watson on flickr.

Thank Goodness For Simple Herbs

"Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful, Like a hell-broth and bubble."

William Shakespeare