Green greetings at autumn equinox.
For a brief moment we hold our breath, the earth stands still, all is in balance. Equinox. Equal night. A pause, a rest, a gathering, anticipation.
And then the exhale, breath released, the sweet joy of motion, the cosmic play of dynamic disequilibrium, the dance begins again, anew. Doh-see-doh, Earth tilts and swings round her partner the sun, as each day shorter and darker than the one before.
From the light arises dark. From the fire arises life. All that falls shall be reborn.
Autumn equinox is harvest time. Time to harvest seeds and roots. Time to can and put by. Time to freeze and store and ferment and preserve. Time for wonder and delight.
This praying mantis came flying out of nowhere to land on the grass right in front of me. We spent long minutes looking at each other. I remembered a praying mantis who met me every afternoon as I walked through a hayfield on my way home after working in town. I feel deep gratitude for the protection that praying mantis brings. (Recognizing that, even as she agrees to assist me, she will bite my head off if I get out of hand.) Back then, in the hayfield, when my life was being shaken from its known parameters by a divorce from all men, and right now, when my life is secure and settled, yet still open to devastating change, I am blessed to be accompanied and guarded by praying mantis, wise dancing green woman.
After praying mantis leaves, I walk to the site of my former goat barn. I moved to this land in 1978, 37 years ago. The barn was built that year, first thing, even before we put heat in the house. It still seems strange, three months after the fire, to look out and see green where a barn full of lively goats and sweet rabbits (and one magnificent black snake) stood for so many decades.
No denying it. The barn is not gone, it is turned into green. A beautiful, varied green. A green of dozens of species working together to reclaim the land. Green sprouted across the burned area a few days after the fire. And the barn area – which has not seen sunlight since 1978 – is now covered in medicinal and edible plants.
Come with me as we walk the site of the fire and see what life has arisen. Come with me as the wheel of the year turns toward darkness, turns toward death. Let us look upon what was. It is the right time to renew our relationships with those who have gone beyond. And to heed their guidance.
Green blessings are everywhere.
~ Weed Walk at Barn Site - Click Here ~