September 12... In the woods...

Had an awesome weekend in the country. Yesterday was a work day - there was a  lot of land our friend had cleared. He rented a chipper and we chipped all the trees he felled. It was vigorous work. I loved it. It made me totally homesick for my Winnetou Lake. I used to work hard up there, clearing brush, picking up fallen trees, making bonfires. I loved it. I remember once, my dad and Honey, standing on the balcony, watching me; my dad turned to Honey and said "She's a real country woman that one, a real woodsman." Indeed daddy, indeed - you taught that to me, or the geography taught that to me: a respect for the land, an appreciation of the changing seasons, the smell of trees and earth. We may have lost our beloved cottage - but I am so grateful for my relationship with nature. When I get the opportunity to "work the land" as it were, I feel settled, centered, strong, at home, really at home.

Thanks so much J & Y.

March 2 .... Mother Earth..

It is a glorious day today. Warm even by winter's standards. Sunny. Brilliant. I walked alot today, first with Honey, then to work. Birds singing, which by the way they do all winter long, it just seems on a fine Spring-like day you really hear them. And then as I walked... there is was.. that smell, the earth melting, a tulip's bulb somewhere, tingling, the ground thawing, that smell of Mother Earth.

When we moved into this lovely home of ours, I cried a little every day because the smell (I would learn later that is the smell of trees) reminded me of my dear cottage, what used to be my dear cottage. It's been eight years since we lost the cottage, since my father sold it in a dementia-stricken moment. I still mourn it's loss. But through my relationship with that place, those grounds, the air, trees, and water of that space ... I developed a deep connection to the earth. Something real and tangible. And while I mourn the loss of that cottage more than the loss of my mother, I am ever so grateful for having had that relationship for the time that I did. I am grateful that I had a place and space that was reliable, solid, never really changing, encompassing and embracing, real. I can call up the memory - sensory memory - without trying very hard at all. Whether someone else owns that piece of land or not, I will forever be a child of Winnetou Lake. I will forever be grateful for what that land gave to me.

And so on the first Spring days, when Mother Earth loosens up a little, basks in the warmth of the sun, shifts and changes and gives of herself after a long winter, I am grateful. I am grateful for the sense of peace she shares with me.