In the district dedicated to Columbia, the weather can turn on a dime. (OK, you have to go back to the 1800s to find Columbia on a dime and, even then, she's called by her nickname: Freedom. But you know what I mean.) Just last week, I was out in the bitter cold, covering up tender plants; today we had sunny weather and temps in the 80s. I've known it to pretty much skip Spring weather here and go directly from Winter to Summer.
Today's sun and warmth have literally been working magic on my tiny bit of Earth. Jack-in-the-pulpits that were not there yesterday evening when I took Hecate's deipnon out to the altar are now several inches high. My neighbor's deciduous magnolia is a waving magnificence of creamy pink. The tiny horns of hosta have poked through the Earth, looking for all the world like an invasion of some underground alien species.
I've known Witches who don't feel the need for a daily practice, but I find that I really need one. And a big part of my practice is communing with my bit of Earth, with Spout Run and the Potomac River, with my landbase and watershed. I need to be in touch with them to help me understand who I am. Because I am not separate from them. I am all wrapped up in the water level of the Potomac, the migrating birds hanging out on the Three Sisters as the sculling teams from Georgetown skim by. A part of who I am is the day upon which the fiddleheads (today, in the sunnier spots!) emerge from the soil and begin to gently dance open, a reverse Spiral Dance that moves within my own soul as much as it moves out in the woodland garden. I find out how trustworthy and gentle I am from the squirrels, and peanut-eating crows, and bluejays; I learn how much I truly believe in both the light and the dark when I watch the giant hawk perusing the morning doves at my feeder the way a hungry teen eyes the all-you-can-eat buffet. I need my fox to show up once in a while to re-enchant my garden. My own health is somehow bound up in the health of "my" homeless vet at the TR Bridge. And the weather that moves through Columbia's district moves through my moods and into my thoughts.
What speaks most to you in your landbase? How do you connect with it? How have you learned to listen to yourself by listening to it? If not today, when?
2 comments:
Oh there are people in my daily life who carry such value for me-people on the street ,people in the local grocery,people with babies that grow into children going to school, people I have never seen but whose yards I know fairly well by passing on my way to the store or to the library. I notice that right now I don't see the crows-my lover/spouse considers them his birds and while they have been here in crowds now there are few. Why? I asked this morning. Today I noticed in yard after vacated yard that there are dandelions growing and thought that I should pick some to cook since they are the ones with rounded leaves not the spiky kind and then I wondered why I never noticed the plants before. I saw a red headed dog quite elderly walking with the irregular rhythm that I recognize from my own irregular rhythm-arthritis.
Thank you for reminding me of all of this and of course there is more.
Right at this time -- I am NOT keen on my landbase! LOL! Last week I was severely bitten by a host of chiggers -- and I am JUST recovering from those hot itchy red welts from the neck down! Thanks to the Web -- I have been soaking in a tub with epsom salts (with mint); swabbing with Listerine (with mint) and slathering on ChiggerEase cream (which is formulated with spearmint oil!)
Ah! Nature! LOL!
Jan at Rosemary Cottage
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