Peripatetic philomaths…focusing on what's really important, eating ethically and cleanly, fermenting, foraging/wildcrafting, practicing herbalism, and being responsible stewards of our land. Sharing our photos, musings, and learnings. Still seeking our tribe.
Just because someone dies, their presence doesn’t simply disappear – sometimes, loved ones may visit in dreams or appear in daydreams. I often “see” one particular soul, missed dearly, in manifestations of nature…I think of her daily, though she has not been here now for years. And I will think of her until I am no longer here.
Life is a dichotomy of joy and sorrow, each (unfortunately) seemingly in fairly equal measure, and not subject to our will. I will not avoid sorrow because doing so means I also avoid joy. I’ll hold fast to the joy and hope the sorrow simply crashes over me like waves at the shore: they may batter me, but I’ll get back up, shake the sand out of my suit, and be glad that I had the chance to swim in the glorious sea.
This was, for me, today’s reminder of resilience: overnight snow and frigid temperatures may have battered the dandelion, furling its tender petals, but I know I’ll see its cheery countenance once again. Further, I know many other blooms lie covered in snow, just waiting for the sun’s restorative touch. We may see Nature as – at times – shockingly harsh, but for natural creatures like plants and animals it simply is…and they don’t have a choice about rising to the challenge of survival. Resilience.
Through the vicissitudes of life, when uncertainty and turmoil further erode the fragile veneer of civilization, the trees stand watch. They were here before us and will be here after us. Despite our (humans’) attempts to destroy them – cutting, burning, poisoning – they persist. I celebrate them, bathing in their resilience and quiet energy, and I’m thankful that there are still trees to be enjoyed.
Now may be an opportune moment to spend some time with a gentle arboreal giant…may you find peace in these trying times.
The daylilies, so bountiful this year, have been gone for a couple of weeks now – which is why I was so surprised to find these hidden gems. I was actually checking on the progress of ripening elderberries in the towering bush that covers much of the pile when the flash of color caught my eye. Few flowers are orange out here, so I moved some debris and found these. How they survived and bloomed with branches and clippings covering them is a puzzle, but they did…and now, beauty lives in the brush pile, too.
Having to buy eggs has served as a harsh reminder of why we got chickens in the first place. And buying pastured eggs from the store just felt wrong. We miss our own flock’s eggs, so it’s time to begin again. Call it v2.0.