Finding Home
Our boys were born on the first day of spring. Our animals, two dogs and a cat were born on Easter Sunday in different years. Our family enlarges in springtime, our individual spirits do too.
I have been arranging new pathways on our property, digging up the abundant flat limestone rocks and moving them to the rutted paths created by humans and animals alike.
The first time I planned a garden following the wanderings of animals was in Wyoming. I watched the deer create pathways to traverse neighborhoods in safety, to nourish their bodies, and find safe places to rest. I watched our dogs etch their routes in the yard long before any flowers and plants graced its spaces. Their wandered path formed artful natural boundaries where plants, animals, and people co-existed in harmony.
If we follow the lead of our wordless companions, we can see new routes more clearly. A well worn path may be just what you need to find your way home.
Be well,
Kathy
Kathy Donchak
I write about nature, family, creativity, and wellbeing.
Source One must work with the creative powers - for not to work with is to work against; in art as in spiritual life there is no neutral place.” ~ Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures Our garden is taking shape. Inspired by one of my favorite gardening books by Rebcca Cole, I am dreaming and choosing plants to create a small garden of evergreens and deciduous trees, espalier fruit trees, and flowers. My husband is working through plans for raised vegetable and herb beds to feed the body while I work to...
And here I build my platform, and live upon it, and think my thoughts and am high. To rise, I must have a field to rise from. To deepen, I must have a bedrock from which to descend. ~ Mary Oliver, Long Life I can hear the birds again. The rainy mornings have been flooded with sounds of so many frogs, you are sure you left a window open, but today, thanks to the early morning urging of our cat at the window, I began to hear them again. The geese honking overhead, woodland songbirds, even an...
Threshold You want a door you can be on both sides of at once. You want to be on both sides of here and there, now and then, together and—(what did we call the life we would wish back? The old life? The before?) alone. But any open space may be a threshold, an arch of entering and leaving. Crossing a field, wading through nothing but timothy grass, imagine yourself passing from and into. Passing through doorway after doorway after doorway. ~ Maggie Smith Walking our new neighborhood each...