5/24/11 They show up
The plants that you dream about, the things you love in the world. The garden full of riches and abundance. They show up, the plants, just as you imagined them, when you stopped imagining cars and boats, and started imagining greenery and play and laughter. They show up, these shoulder-high companions, green and open-hearted.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
5/23/11 Nature walk
Not just that you are out in the green and brown and camouflaged and delightful, but that the more you are out in nature and mindful of it, the more you feel a part of it, that you are just another stem, and though you are able to pick up your roots and move them around easily, you are another in the bouquet.
Not just that you are out in the green and brown and camouflaged and delightful, but that the more you are out in nature and mindful of it, the more you feel a part of it, that you are just another stem, and though you are able to pick up your roots and move them around easily, you are another in the bouquet.
5/22/11 The early morning walk
Before work, before tea, before breakfast. It feels like the beginning of creation, with cool moisture still on the air, like blooms that have just unfurled and still have their dew-sap on them. Like the beginning of creation. Each day in the morning. Feels like that. An exotice remembrance.
Before work, before tea, before breakfast. It feels like the beginning of creation, with cool moisture still on the air, like blooms that have just unfurled and still have their dew-sap on them. Like the beginning of creation. Each day in the morning. Feels like that. An exotice remembrance.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
5/21/11 A high school track meet
It's like they know they're on display, they are healthy, athletic, strong, and they don't mind flaunting it. They stretch and practice their starts all up and down the midfield. They practice their hurdling form in lines of five like can-can dancers. They steal each other's sweatshirts and pack other stuff in it to make themselves look fat. They borrow each other's money, shirts, gum. They are sweet and young and playful, and it reminds me of a seal rookery and we are the grown-ups in the stands, the aluminum bleachers, but they, the young people, are down there like baby birds, like silly overgrown puppies, like new blades of grass swaying in the wind, Like cottonwood fluff, blowing about, looking for its ground.
It's like they know they're on display, they are healthy, athletic, strong, and they don't mind flaunting it. They stretch and practice their starts all up and down the midfield. They practice their hurdling form in lines of five like can-can dancers. They steal each other's sweatshirts and pack other stuff in it to make themselves look fat. They borrow each other's money, shirts, gum. They are sweet and young and playful, and it reminds me of a seal rookery and we are the grown-ups in the stands, the aluminum bleachers, but they, the young people, are down there like baby birds, like silly overgrown puppies, like new blades of grass swaying in the wind, Like cottonwood fluff, blowing about, looking for its ground.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
5/19/11 Herbs that appear from out of nowhere, part II
Okay, there are probably many more examples of this, but just two weeks ago, I noticed that the back little patch of woods at my house was just filled with elder shrubs. How could I have missed them? All with these little white flower clusters, and a delicate fragrance. There must be dozens of shrubs back there now. I thought maybe I'd make some tincture with the berries, so I found a video on that on Youtube. Then, a few days later, I got a touch of something, some kind of cold and flu, and looked up uses for elder flower. Here's this herb that I've never used before, really, and it's abundant and literally right out my back door when I really need it. Elder blossom tea four times a day, and a very short course of whatever that cold-flu thingy was.
Okay, there are probably many more examples of this, but just two weeks ago, I noticed that the back little patch of woods at my house was just filled with elder shrubs. How could I have missed them? All with these little white flower clusters, and a delicate fragrance. There must be dozens of shrubs back there now. I thought maybe I'd make some tincture with the berries, so I found a video on that on Youtube. Then, a few days later, I got a touch of something, some kind of cold and flu, and looked up uses for elder flower. Here's this herb that I've never used before, really, and it's abundant and literally right out my back door when I really need it. Elder blossom tea four times a day, and a very short course of whatever that cold-flu thingy was.
5/18/11 Healing plants that appear seemingly from out of nowhere at your time of greatest need.
The first time this happened, I had an icky flu while visiting Ireland as an overseas student. I was staying at a youth hostel in Killarney, had cut my caffeine consumption by about 90% from my several daily "Express!" cups at brasseries in France, was dealing with the dilute Irish coffee, as well as tea. So my head was swimming with the caffeine withdrawal symptoms, and here was this guy in the youth hostel's kitchen, coughing and sneezing all over everything. Within a day I had caught it, and as I was pedaling a rented bike in the wooded park there, felt miserable and achy and stuffy. So I cried out, in the middle of that Irish national park, that was covered in holly and ivy over that winter holiday. I cried out to the unfamiliar Irish grasses, to the unfamiliar hills in the distance, to the unfamiliar grey Irish clouds on that day, I cried out in the middle of the field, because I knew somehow that plants everywhere speak the same language, that everywhere plants respond to our request, if made in love and harmony. I cried out in the field, and looked around and was about to give up and go back to the hostel and suffer again. Then I noticed a familiar plant, a raspberry shrub in the middle of the field, with a few dried leaves and berries still clinging to the withered stalks. I recognized the plant, and I knew that I had seen raspberry listed as an ingredient in herbal teas I had had, so I knew it was safe. I picked a few twigs off that dried shrub, and took them with me back to the hostel, and brewed up some tea with them.
And here's the thing: Raspberry is not commonly an herb used for colds and flu, but that raspberry, that tea, helped me feel better.
The first time this happened, I had an icky flu while visiting Ireland as an overseas student. I was staying at a youth hostel in Killarney, had cut my caffeine consumption by about 90% from my several daily "Express!" cups at brasseries in France, was dealing with the dilute Irish coffee, as well as tea. So my head was swimming with the caffeine withdrawal symptoms, and here was this guy in the youth hostel's kitchen, coughing and sneezing all over everything. Within a day I had caught it, and as I was pedaling a rented bike in the wooded park there, felt miserable and achy and stuffy. So I cried out, in the middle of that Irish national park, that was covered in holly and ivy over that winter holiday. I cried out to the unfamiliar Irish grasses, to the unfamiliar hills in the distance, to the unfamiliar grey Irish clouds on that day, I cried out in the middle of the field, because I knew somehow that plants everywhere speak the same language, that everywhere plants respond to our request, if made in love and harmony. I cried out in the field, and looked around and was about to give up and go back to the hostel and suffer again. Then I noticed a familiar plant, a raspberry shrub in the middle of the field, with a few dried leaves and berries still clinging to the withered stalks. I recognized the plant, and I knew that I had seen raspberry listed as an ingredient in herbal teas I had had, so I knew it was safe. I picked a few twigs off that dried shrub, and took them with me back to the hostel, and brewed up some tea with them.
And here's the thing: Raspberry is not commonly an herb used for colds and flu, but that raspberry, that tea, helped me feel better.
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