Green Tribe of Belonging

  The Gift of a Dream Mother chicken, clucking, pecking with 8 little peeping chicks pecking around her, hovering in her care. What a world of adventure for these fluffy little yellow babies, with food, companionship and safety as they shelter under the mother’s wings  But one little chick is outside the circle excluded from the nest pecking on her own. I feel for that little chick, and remember what it is like to not be included, shut out of the circle of love. This lonely chick, in its solitary place, looks up to see something miraculous. Appearing from the sky is a huge ethereal mother chicken with wings spread broad and wide swooping gently down to enfold not only the solitary chick but the mother hen and all her chicks. When I wake up, I know I’ve been shown something very important,  a cosmic truth: we are never ever alone, we are always under the care of a great mother, whatever form it takes for each of us.

 Something exciting happened for me these last couple of weeks. Ever since I moved to our cohousing community, I've wished I could have solar panels on my roof. After all, our community has always been dedicated to caring for the earth, choosing sustainability over convenience, planting native grasses on our land, doing what we can to nurture the natural world. And yet my small roof was not large enough to have solar panels. Many of my neighbors have them. And our common house does too. And especially lately, when our local earthcare working group was planning our next meeting to focus on solar, I felt almost embarrassed that while everyone else had or was planning to have solar panels, my roof remained vacant.  But things have changed for the better! Just a couple days ago, I signed a contract to have 10 solar panels put on my rooftop, and that should take care of all my energy needs! The reason I suddenly am able to do this is partly because these panels are a bit more effic...

  Trees I Have Known There was the large willow tree at the corner of our yard when I was small, my special hideout beyond the house, a tall attic-like space where I could see the world, and yet be all but invisible. My young body would jump to the first branch and then climb up to near the top, hidden away unless I spoke. I felt cradled in the woody arms of my first tree-friend and devastated when it had to be cut down, its roots interfering with the septic system. Still I carry the memory of this beautiful welcoming tree in my heart. Next came the large hardwood tree on the banks of Wapsinonoc Creek, which ran just down the hill from our farmhouse. If I had been on my own, I probably would never have discovered this tree full of promise, but my adventurous boy cousin and best buddy had the idea of building a tree house high in its branches, from where we could attach a bag swing, jump off the wooden platform and soar over the water below. And we did it! I’m sure it was mostly Joh...

If you love plants can you find in your heart a love for weeds too? From a wide perspective they are as beautiful  and vigorous as the plants  we have intentionally grown in our gardens.  As for me, some weeds I like. In fact, I eat them. Some weeds I let be, acknowledging them as I walk by. But some weeds are  so vigorous that they organize an invasion! I do love the green growth covering our landscapes. I honor what we call weeds because they show vitality even when we try  to suppress them. But there are a few weeds that really frustrate me! Heading that list is Japanese Hops. It is a beautiful plant, and it spreads quickly over hill and dale over wall and fence and into my garden where it stages its assault . It may be good for making beer and wine. But it is far better at inflicting painful scratches on arms and hands, clinging onto any clothing, refusing to be cast aside, leaving its mark on everything. You have to somewhat admire this irritating plant, fo...

  Friendly Warning Storm is coming says the Mother Tree As it sends a warning to its roots: Hold Tight. Midway in its wide branches Mother bird chirps to her babies: Under my Wings. The ant colony below the tree’s mulch Senses a change in the air: Go Down! Squirrel high on the upper branches Freezes, sniffs the air, peers at the sky, And rushes to her nest. Tiny microorganisms Blanketing the tree roots Prepare for flood. Forest trees across the valley Pick up Mother Tree’s message: Thank you! As the wind comes blowing,  Rain pelts down and lightning flashes. The forest is ready.

 It seemed I was getting mad at everything last week: our preoccupation with things, wealth, competition, racing ahead to ever new technological achievements. I'd drive down the road and yell at the cornfields, the concrete-covered ground, the rows and rows of fast food places, the traffic jams. Really, I was ripe to find fault with anything. Fortunately, that mood hasn't lasted, and it feels better to have gotten some of that anger out. It's hard to know for sure why I'm feeling better now, but I think it partly has to do with some inner work I was forced to undertake at the height of my anger. Like many of us, I was raised in a household where there was all too much scolding and blaming, and too little comforting. And we all grew up in a world where to get approval we had to be good, to do what we were told, perform well. Our self-worth tended to be skin-deep, gauged by what other people said about us. Even though we might find ways of being "good" in other ...