Autumn arrived in a timely manner in the Pacific NW, which is not to say the gnawing appetite of wildfires have been quenched and parched soil is sated. But these mornings request an extra layer of clothing as Sun allows himself a few extra winks before rising. Night lingers layering Earth with a breath that hints of colder days ahead. On the small smidge of Land I am calling home ten months after my initial move, I now feel a sense of welcome and belonging. Welcome and Belonging…something I always seem to be a on quest for. Glancing through old posts, it is a common theme, especially back in 2018-19 after my mother’s death that led to my “Sojourn with Grief.”
Summer Solstice Newsletter: Wonder, Awe, and Beauty as Spiritual Practice
Spring was on the horizon when I last checked in and now the Summer Solstice is here and the Strawberry Full Moon will rise low in the sky tomorrow evening. The Japanese Cherry blossoms that dazzled in April are a mere memory, as are the pink delights of Dogwoods’ bracts. Rhododendrons and Peonies, always up to the astonishment challenge, too have faded. Fortunately an array of Roses have stepped in, scenting the air with both spicy and sweet aromatics. And my lips are stained red with Farmers’ Market bounty of Strawberries, Cherries, and Raspberries. We have crossed over into a most delicious time of year.
Winter Newsletter: Preparing Our Hearts For Grief Anniversaries: COVID Edition
As Winter merges into Spring in the Pacific NW, I look at entrances to shops and see faded reminders from four years ago to stand “six-feet apart.” Painted flowers. Foot prints. Circles indicating “6’". Whatever the store thought would be helpful to remind folks to stay separated. Yes, the four year anniversary of the pandemic is close-at-hand. So many shifts in four years!
Perhaps like me your camera roll likes to offer memories, the “before photos,” where we were gathered at sardine-packed events unaware we were likely “at risk.” Then came the “after.” The impromptu masks…scarves wrapped loosely around faces, YouTube videos showing us how to make a mask from old t-shirts, folks digging through piles of material making free masks for healthcare workers, trying to fill a need…weak attempts at protection until we could buy something we thought was better…or at least more comfortable. Hand sanitizer at every doorway and checkout counter. Constant reminders to “wash your hands and not touch your face.” Washing groceries and placing mail in ziplock bags for a day or two (remember that!) And all the closures. The wide berths when walking. The lack of hugs. And ZOOM! Suddenly everything moved to Zoom.
Autumn Newsletter: Harvesting Rest
In recent years, my local climate has not followed the usual patterns of weaving cool weather into night, to leaves surrendering their green into startling reds and yellows, and flowers dropping to mulch into soil as autumn approaches. Oh, it arrives in some form, but a bit chagrined and with a folder full of explanations. So I was happy, yes happy, to don my rain gear as the calendar officially announced the equinox in my beloved Pacific NW and the Nature that surrounds me magically turned on cue. As one who has lived all but the first four years of her life in this region of the world, the shift in seasons is one way I navigate the spiral of my being. The harvest of rest this season offers, with its lengthening nights and bundling of my body for warmth, reminds me of all the moments I’ve forgotten in the chaos of summer about SLOW TIME. Slow time, something I lean into with more grace as I age. Stepping away from the demands of external clocks (though they still seems to dictate more of my life than I desire.)
Winter Newsletter: Footfalls On The Journey—Shifting Landscapes Shift Perspectives
Ah February in the Pacific NW. Our mild winter faked us out with a few warm spring-like days earlier in the month. This is typical. A few bulbs poke up. Trees start budding and a few have even bloomed some years, though at least this year the cherries didn’t. Wise those cherries. We are giddy with visions of lighter jackets and warmer days.
Then cold swept in with an unexpectedly large gathering of snow in the lowlands. Caught the weather-folk by surprise as well as the evening commuters on a recent Wednesday. Portland recorded 10-12” in some neighborhoods. My higher elevation abode had about 10”. It turned into an icy mess once the snow thawed a bit and refroze. All the headlines read “snowapocalypse”and folks in the midwest rolled their eyes I’m sure. Now this is typical…a “false” spring followed by more “wintery mixes,” but we are a hopeful bunch in the Pacific NW (or forgetful) and think each year will be different.
Autumn Newsletter: Footfalls on the Journey--Nature's Call to Be Still
Autumn arrived later than usual in the Pacific NW. It was late October, well after the equinox, before the rains arrived and the temperatures dropped. Mid-October and I was at a pumpkin patch event in short sleeves and it was over 85º. It felt disconcerting. Even the jack-o-lanterns looked puzzled. The fire danger lingered and the multiple fires that were already raging turned our air quality numbers dismal. Sure the days were shortening, offering a respite from the heat, but my memories of times past where not aligning with the present.
