Monday Moonday

The Mamas and The Papas sang "Monday, Monday can't trust that day...."

Being self employed, I never have a problem with Monday.  In fact, I'm hard pressed to tell Monday from any other day of the week, since I pretty much work 7 days a week.  (An occupational hazard of the self employed is to learn how to draw those boundary lines between work and personal, which I haven't really figured out yet, but I'm working on it.)

Today was wonderful because I was able to pick up my life again after my marathon sequester last week.  I cleared everything from my calendar in order to make sure that the tax return would get done on time, and hooray! it did.

But not my favorite kind of work.

So today I was able to engage in my favorite kind of work, which is the business of living.  I love taking care of house and home, growing food, raising chickens and seeing clients for energy work.   I love making my own shampoo, deodorant, and toothpaste.  I love it when my skin and hair smell like fresh air and sunshine because I've been outdoors for hours. And I love cooking outdoors, then sitting around the fire afterwards, gazing at the moon and stars to wind down the day.

I'm trying to continue to find time to bind books for Pegana Press too.  Today I think I worked out a schedule where I work on book binding between 8 and 11, and then see clients in my healing practice between Noon and 3 pm.  That way I still have time to fix meals for us all and then I can crash in the afternoon.  I think it's a good Summer schedule, because it allows for working outdoors in the very early morning and the early evening when things are cooler.  I am learning to adapt my schedule to match the ever shifting seasons, especially with the changing weather patterns we are having now...It's the Pacific NW for heaven's sake...We just don't have 87 degree weather in April!

But yes, I guess that is now a possibility.  All potentials exist, and I'm feeling the need to be flexible.  So I have also adopted the practice of Siesta in the hottest time of the day which seems to be late afternoon.  And today I needed it!! And really appreciated it.

It left me feeling energized so I could tackle the super wild part of my yard.  I was just going to build the fence to bypass that area, but I got thinking about it and really, the practical thing to do would just be to clear the blackberry overgrowth and include the old rusty metal storage shed -which I never use- to maybe do something practical with it.

This evening I uncovered a beautiful Hazel (one of my favorite trees) which was being choked out by brambles.  My heart glowed to see it, and I found myself whispering to it, "Do you trust me?", because I wanted it to know I would go carefully and cautiously while I was removing the thorny plants around it.

I also freed up the tall Oregon Grape which was in danger of being covered by long thick blackberry canes.  Now it should be much easier to build the fence in that area, with just a little more work.

I also uncovered some wood and some perfectly good fence posts.  It just goes to show you that treated wood will stand up to the test of time even after laying on the ground, half covered with soil for the past 15 years at least.  I'm going to use the posts to build frames to hang a gate on, so I won't have to contort myself, to avoid getting hung up on primitive wire "gates" to get around my yard.

The fence building project is going slower than I wanted it to.  But I'm trying to keep at it because I'm anxious to plant, and there's just no point planting if I can't protect the garden from my chickens who are talented escape artists.  My goal is to have them moved by the end of this week.  Which will also require some pruning.  I realized that the willow is not only the perfect cover, perfect playground for chickens but also the perfect jumping off point to fly right over the fence.  They might not try it if they are entertained enough with their new environment, but why take the chance?

I'm crossing my fingers that I can plant soon!

This photo shows the full grown Peeps perched on branches 10 to 12 feet in the air.  The fence behind them only reaches 8 feet tall.  In this picture you can see how interested they are in the next tree over, which is outside of their yard, and located just a few feet from my raised beds.  The Peeps began flying when they were still only a week old.  And they're very good at it.

Garden Build Day!!

Hooray!  I have my garden beds.  And they're beautiful!

Three people from GRuB arrived at 10:30 am on the dot with a truck load of soil and this beautiful lumber.



Within 2 hours we had these three beds built and filled and the trellis built, too.







They also left me with these lovely plants.

They were such a pleasure to work with.  Fast and efficient and friendly.  It was a wonderful experience.


And they loved the chickens. :)


I feel good right now, but I wonder how I'll feel tomorrow after shifting that much soil.

I can't wait to see food actually growing abundantly on this land.

Later that afternoon...

I went out and walked the beds, pruning any branches away that would interfere with the trellis and putting down straw to make the paths look tidy.

It began raining in the sunshine, so I had to get a picture of that.

The air smelled amazing.  I love that smell of water in the air.

I spent a moment connecting with the spirit of the land.  It approves.

And look...Pachamama is apparently purple.

Zoë and I were sitting on the porch snuggling while we watched it rain, and I suddenly got the impulse to see the sky behind me.

Oh yeah.  Glad I checked it out.

Seems like a good sign to me.

#FeelingBlessed

Another Gorgeous Day

Yes!  I love this weather.  I love being outside!

I started my day sitting on my front porch --"noticing".  Aaannnd--I actually wrote today.  I think it's been over a year since I've written anything new.  It was a real pleasure.

What I noticed about the mind set around writing is that, there is a certain frame of emotional well being that I have to be in, in order to see a potential story happening.  I have been living in a high stress environment, which is normal for a lot of people, I suppose, but it's not something I look for in my life.

However, today I realized that if I consciously disengage from the to do list spiraling around in my head...again, not really my consciousness of choice...but if I can disengage from that, I see magical things.  And they become stories.  My body remembers how to do it.  The only challenge is to remember to shift into it at odd moments.  Any moment.  Practice...practice.

So this was given to me...

And written down at 9 am on April 1, 2016...

The sun has been up for hours. 

But here-- 

It is only now rising above tree tops and shining through branches still bare of leaves. 

Now--before the dew dries from the grass and with the rays lighting up each individual droplet, standing on each individual tip of grass-- 

Only now, at this exact time when the sun shines on the ground, but is shaded from my face, can I see a wondrous network of shining webs.   

Each individual strand in motion moved by currents of air seems to pulse, much like I imagine neural pathways convey information within my own body.  

I ponder these threads which sparkle and shift with the ripple of grasses.   

To pull back in my vision brings this landscape of countless threads into sharper focus. 

This--so like a laser show pulsing to the bird chorus that plays in 'surround sound' all around me.   

I look closer and see webs waving on the air 

each emanating from a minute spider which could fit comfortably on the head of a small pin.   

They ride the currents on these web strands which act as sails to catch the gentlest breeze, no stronger than a baby's breath.    

My rooster crows   

Beginning a new movement in the bird symphony 

Supported by a gentle rhythmic clucking in the hen section of the orchestra.   

The webs fade from my vision as the sun climbs higher in our sky and the spell is broken.   

I rise from my seat to begin my work day and feel a gentle resistance.   

I turn my head in time to watch a web anchored to my shoulder stretch and break free as the silver thread captained by its tiny spider, goes sailing off 

Rippling on waves of air. 

--Rita Tortorello 

Spring Balance

I am enjoying this Spring more than I any I can remember.  There is just so much to anticipate right now.  Will the peeps lay eggs?  And if so when will they start?  And I’m looking forward to the garden build coming up in the first week of April.  Having a garden! Hooray!

I’ve taken my meditation practice out doors.  Indoors, there is so much going on that the walls seem to vibrate with thoughts, plans, stratagems, and to do lists all whirling around the house.  It’s too distracting.

Outdoors, I can still my mind easily.

Yesterday morning, I went outdoors as the full moon was hovering low in the sky.  I watched it set among the tree line as the sky brightened to the new day.  It set the tone for my whole day.

This morning the sky was too overcast to see the moon.  Instead the focus was on the morning sounds.  Incredible morning music of geese and birdsong.  Occasionally punctuated by the gravelly crowing of Rocky and the answering toy trumpet crowing of Sparky.   Starting the day this way brings me to center.

It carries me through as I do morning chores.  The sound of the metal buckets when I bring water and food to the hen house.  The slap of my wire gate, as it snaps back in place.  I walk the paths of my soon to be garden, and greet each plant, stone, insect or bird which calls out to my attention.

Once indoors, I can take that calm centered-ness with me.  And I light a candle to remind me to stay grounded today as I take on another busy day.  --To remind me to enjoy it all.  Living this way is a choice.  I either make a conscious decision to enjoy it, whatever I spend my time doing, or I become more bogged down, trying to keep my head above the water, mired in stress.

#StayingInLoveWithMyLife

Springy

It's been a dark sunny day today in the maritime northwest.  Spring has displayed her ability to paint a rainbow against a dark sky.  Sun-drenched trees dazzle, encrusted with glittering raindrops reflecting their prism colors as they cling to bare twigs.

Today was a day spent noticing things.  I will never take that aspect of my character for granted again.  After months spent being too busy to be present with my environment on a daily basis...I am seeing the magic again.  I have missed it.

Where did this face come from?  As soon as I ask the question, the answer comes to me.  A sprite uses the water droplets for a looking glass.  And what made me magnify this photo to even look for it?  The beaming visage invites me to open my awareness.  I've been missing too much.

Stories have been trying to get my attention today.

It's been over a year since I've written.  Life should never become too filled up doing things you do just to get by.

Since I had the camera in my hand I meandered through the yard, taking random photos.

The first thing that caught my attention was the forsythia in full bloom.  My mom had just asked me about it the other day during a phone conversation.  I could only remember seeing one sprig trying bravely to bloom.  I just assumed last summer's drought had taken it's toll on it, as it had so many other plants.  But here it is blooming magnificently.

Magic!

Tulip bulbs and Hyacinth will not survive here.  The furry ones that live under ground love those things.  I might as well be passing out candy to children.  But the daffodils...

They just keep coming.

 In fact, they're starting to spread out.

And speaking of spreading out...

Here's a flower that spreads where ever I plant it.  A welcome invasion.

I was noticing how much my front yard looks like a forest floor.  I'm sure my neighbors are horrified, but I'm very proud of it.  This is my lawn.

However, I have planted some "mistakes".  Apologies to the Hellebore plants for calling them a mistake, but they spread like a noxious weed, and I need to hone my gardening chops  if I'm going to keep them in check.  They have taken over, where there used to be alpine strawberry.  I really miss those little guys.

And another plant I rescued, struggling for life at the side of the road, was the money plant, or silver dollar as we called it when I was growing up.  I put it in my yard...it seemed like a good idea at the time.  If only my US currency would multiply as fast as the silver dollar plant.  One plant has become hundreds, and not very pretty at that.  

I have no one to blame but myself for that.

I'm afraid they choked out the native yellow wood violet that I planted there from my parent's woods before they moved.  I looked, but couldn't find any sign of that beautiful little plant.  Maybe my friend Rebbeckah has them in her woods...viola glabella.

Next, I visited the Oregon Grape.  It grows throughout my place, and I love it.  

And this showed up all over too--Indian Plum--in bloom at the moment.

Here's one I planted.  Pussy Willow given to me by my sister.  A start from my gramma's yard.  It's gotten so big, I can't even reach those little fuzzy guys.

See that?  I nearly missed seeing them.  They love this part of my yard.  The front is East facing, and dominated by a large old oak.  It's very foresty here.  The back is mostly like a field.  But the trees are moving in there too.  Cherry and little fir trees are popping up.  The trees that were already there when I moved here 15 years ago--the birch, and fruit trees--are old and kind of sickly, but as they are winding down, the little ones come in to replace them.  Lilac is being replaced by Hazel and the pink ornamental Cherry trees that were planted 20 years ago or more, are being replaced by the Bing Cherry trees that have grown wild in this neighborhood for decades.  

And it's all Nature.  I gave up trying to plant trees around here.  Only the trees that belong here can survive.  I have a row of dying arbor vitae, which were green and healthy before last summer's drought.

Having wandered around the front yard, I decided to visit the chickens.  I see them everyday, but I wanted to take pictures.

Here's Rocky.

He takes care of the flock.  Every night when I close the door to the hen house, I thank him for the Peeps and for watching the flock.  I count heads -5 peeps, 3 hens, and Rocky- and I am grateful that we got through another day without any losses, and that there are eggs in the box.

Yes, I really am that close to him.  But I'm not crazy enough to stand eyeball to eyeball with him without a fence between us.  In order to get a full picture of him, I had to stand back because whenever I get near enough to the fence to avoid having the wire in the photo, he has to be right there checking me out.  

See, even in this picture he's got his eye on me.

But what have we here?  

One of the Peeps is a Cockerel!  This is Sparky.  So far this is working out, but I don't know for how long.  My place is too small to support 2 flocks.  I love this little guy.  And he's not so little.  He's 16 weeks old today, and nearly the same size as his mom Ruby.  Of course, they all look small next to Rocky, who is twice as big as my full grown hens.  

Oh well, maybe I can manage two flocks if I have to.

But let's face it, I'd rather not.  Maybe by some miracle, Rocky will tolerate him somewhat.  Just sayin'.  Just prayin'...

Two full grown hens and two 16 week old Peeps.  Sparky and Ruby face to face.

Okay, just two more chicken pics.

Tricksy with Daffodils.  Yes, I know daffodils are poisonous.  Apparently chickens know that too, because I've never seen them eat one. 

All five Peeps are rarely together.  I'm constantly asking, "Where's number 5?" And then I see her with the hens or with Rocky.  There's always one isn't there?  The kid that just wants to hang out with the adults instead of with the other kids.  I put this picture in because I wanted to show how Sparky stands out from the others even though their coloring is almost identical.  He's had his red comb since he was about 5 weeks old.  They grow so fast.

This is Sparky back in December, leading the flock in the great escape.  They figured out how to jump up on this pallet and then how to fly over the fence--usually landing on me as I came out the back door.  You can see his red comb and even at 5 weeks, he stands out.

It'a been a really nice day today.  I didn't get ANY work done.  I need to have more days like that.  (feeding the animals doesn't really count as work, it's like feeding a myself or a family member)

Singing to the Land

The wind comes up as the sky darkens.

I can see the moon oriented behind me, over my right shoulder and it hovers over my roof as I sit on my back porch and sing songs to the land.

"...Home, be the temple of my heart.  Home, be the body of my love.  Just like Holy Water to my lips..."

I am bundled in layer upon layer of wool against the icy breeze.  It feels like a tonic to my face, which remains exposed.

I see lights in the sky.  An airplane silently races by, flying low on the horizon far in the distance.

The wind rustles the bare cascading branches of willow and birch and the rhododendron next to me.

"...Coming to the earth.  Singing to the stars.  Change we must to live again.  Coming to the earth to the moon.  Coming to the sky to the earth.  Change we must to live again..."

Esmerelda joins me on my lap and looks out at the world from the folds of my cloak.  She purrs her song.

"...We will witness a song, we will sing.  We belong to the world.  Our Mother so divine.  We live again.  This is here, this is now, this is love that surrounds.  Change we must, change we must to live again..."

A night bird flies past.

"...Take the water to the mountain.  Cross the great divide of love.  Give to nature all you can be.  Let the Mother know your heart.  Take the water to the mountain.  Let's become alive again.  Holy water, Holy mountain.  Holy river.  Holy tree."

The chimes ring in the night, as a flurry of wind stirs them.

I do this almost every night now.  There is no greater medicine right now for me than this.

Peace.





Song lyrics by Jon Anderson

Spring!!

The land and sky are most certainly exhibiting signs of Spring.  As a Gemini, heavily influenced by mutable, Mercurial energies, I relate to the variety that Spring has to offer not only in her moods, but in her wardrobe.  She is constantly evolving as she transitions with Nature from Winter to Summer.

You cannot pin her down.  What she offers today, will be completely different tomorrow.  The subtleties in light and temperature.  The constantly changing weather patterns.  The migration of animals.  The appearance of plants as they reawaken, stretching themselves and peering out from under the blanket of their soil beds.

Tonight in honor of burgeoning Spring, I took myself outside and sat on my back porch to watch the sky darken.

If that seems like a strange way to honor Spring, let me just explain what I mean.

My mornings always start with a whoop and a holler.  No matter how sane I want my mornings to be, fate steps in ("steps in what?" you ask...don't get me started...)

Like this morning, for instance, I poured myself the first cup of coffee for the day.  I only wanted 5 or 10 little minutes to wake up, slowly and in my own time.  I no sooner sat down when the peaceful stillness was broken by a resounding crash from the other end of the house.   

I no longer dash to see what latest drama is unfolding...why bother?  What does it change?  I ambled down the hall, and through the house, where upon reaching the room we use for a studio, I discovered the antique glass lamp shattered on the floor, with countless shards of glass spread over the carpet. 

Forty five minutes later, I was just putting the vacuum away, when I realized that the sun was well up, and I was late letting the chickens out.  The later it gets, the higher the risk of facing a very cranky rooster.  So I hustled to feed and water them, and let them out of the hen house...

Every morning is some variation on this same theme.  I can't seem to find a moment to watch the sun rise.  Chaos intervenes every time.

But at the end of the day, as the world turns away from the sun, and the light begins to fade from the sky, I can take a moment to watch that happen.  I can empty my mind of trivial thought and watch the show that Nature is putting on right before my eyes.

So this evening, I began that ritual. It is my nod to Spring.  I took my coffee outside in the evening rather than in the morning, well bundled up of course.

Here is my watching the light fade from the sky ensemble...vintage red plaid wool coat (Thank you Aunt Charlotte.  That coat is very precious), and a brown slouch felt hat given to me by my mother-in-law years ago and my favorite wool finger-less gloves made with love by my dear friend Rebbeckah.

And I watched the sky change and listened to the geese in the distance.  That time of the evening seemed just right to connect with Spring.  I don't even remember hearing any traffic noises.

Plants, and Other Conscious Beings

This is a lovely Christmas arrangement that we were gifted with over the holiday season.  I should have taken a picture of it earlier, because it also had a little cedar tree in it.  This arrangement was our Christmas tree this year, and we appreciated it to no end.  It brought color into the house and a feeling of festive celebration into our lives.

Today I noticed the cedar tree was just beginning to turn brown on the ends and so I pulled it out and loosened it's trapped pruned roots, and popped it into the ground outdoors near the house, so as not shock it too terribly.  I will move it again in early Spring if it survives the freezing temperatures.  I have a friend who has a farm nearby and it may go out there.  I've sort of run out of space on my small patch of ground.

And this is the thing about these beautiful holiday arrangements.  Living things are living things.  I know that sounds redundant, but we as humans tend to care less for life forms that don't appear to interact with us.  And yet everything does.  Whether we're aware of it or not.  I could tell you stories...

But apart from the obvious things, house plants interact with us in the most intimate way.  We exchange air.  You can live without many things in life.  You can even last for a time without food and water.  But air is precious.  They make ours, and we make theirs.

So many people receive trees in planters, and almost no one knows that those "Christmas type" trees were never meant to be kept in a planter and they were never meant to be indoors.  It is slow torture to a tree that has the dna to become a giant, to be in a small pot --indoors-- through the winter.

I planted my little cedar friend next to the lavender in my flower bed.  It has access to rain, in case I forget to water it, and it is in a spot that will allow it to go into dormancy, but still be somewhat sheltered from severe weather, while it is trying to return to its natural rhythm.  For these next few nights, I will cover it with a box to protect it from frost, and give it plenty of water.  I wouldn't have to do this, but the tree is going from one extreme to another.  I want the new environment to be like a tonic rather than damaging to the small tree.

This action started me wondering about the other plants in the arrangement.  The only one I recognized was the poinsettia.  Thanks to google, I identified the other two plants and realized that I had three plants with different needs all planted within the same environment.  The Kalanchoe blossfeldiana is a succulent and the "Frosty Fern" is a moss.  They look incredible together, but they would not be able to survive together.

I will leave the moss in it's original pot, because there is no drainage in it, which suits the Frosty fern perfectly.  And I will transplant the other two as soon as possible.  For now, at least I know not to water the succulent area of the pot too often and to keep the moss very wet.

And here is another Christmas gift.  I received a mushroom kit from a friend.  So it's been a very "living" Christmas this year.  I started them as soon as I brought them home, because I wasn't sure how long they had been sitting in my friend's warm house.  This is one week's growth.  I've tried to grow mushrooms before, with less than spectacular results, but this kit from SnoValley Mushrooms, has been amazing to see.  Their instructions were completely different than the instructions from my last mushroom kit, which may be why I'm now having success.  Now that I know I can actually successfully grow mushrooms, I think I'll continue this practice.  The other kit I tried some years ago, became a horrible, moldy, smelly mess.  This kit is beautiful!  I will probably harvest them Thursday or Friday as per instructions, then follow the directions to see if I will get another harvest, or two, or even three!

Update on the Peepers!

Christmas day was a very traumatic day for the Peepers.  I was talking to my sister and her family on the phone, when I heard "HELP!" from Ruby, my hen.  I dropped the phone and burst outside.  I saw Ruby and chicks running for their little house.  I tried to count chicks, and noticed something sitting on the ground, that I couldn't identify.  Not that is, until it lifted off!  It was a hawk and it had one of my chicks!

I ran at it screaming in a voice I've heard my rooster use when he sees a predator.  In that timeless moment, where nothing is decided for certain, one way or another, I reached out with my whole heart and desired nothing else, but to have my chick back.  It was a powerful emotion, and it overrode every other feeling in my mind and body.  In a second it was over.  The hawk dropped the chick, and it fluttered safely to the ground and ran back up the little terraced path to me.  I picked it up and snuggled it, and cooed to it, and checked it over gently for wounds. Then I took it back to the flock and I saw that Ruby had blood on her comb.  Perhaps from trying to defend her offspring.  They spent the rest of the day huddled in their little house.

Since then, The hawk has made two more tries, but the yard they inhabit, is too over grown to really get at them easily.  Not enough room for a hawk's wingspan to pick them off from the air.  At the least sound of alarm, I'm outside.

I know, it's silly.  They're not even cute anymore.  They look like little fat vultures.  But I love them.  They make me smile.  And while I really had hoped they would all be hens, the little rooster, is fast becoming my friend.  He loves to be held, and he has beautiful green eyes.  I wasn't expecting that. 

Well, that had better be all for now.  I'm needing to get back to work.  It's a beautiful sunny day with clear skies, which means it will be cold cold cold tonight, but it's dry and a good day to bind books.

Happy New Year!

Natural Childbirth at its Best

With the wind blowing in from the North, the warmest place to be is with mom.  I'm glad, she chose a place to nest, with a Southern exposure.

Ruby with two chicks

I guess it must be getting crowded under there.  I've seen 5 chicks so far, but the rosebush right outside their enclosure tells me there will be 8.

8 rosebuds on this bush in mid November

I'm so glad I trusted Ruby and let nature take its course.  Her chicks will be hale and hearty because they weren't made weak by human intervention.  The only help I've given Ruby is by way of food and water, and building her enclosure around her.  I'm so glad, I didn't go with an incubator.  There is so much beauty in "staying out of the way".

Hear that?  That's the sound of contentment radiating from a mama hen and her human friend.

And to answer the question why they don't squash the chicks by sitting on them.  She props herself up using her wings.  Nature so Rocks!

Ruby, my girl, you're a good mom.

Monday is a Fine Day Too

And it is day two too.  Day two of chick hatching.

This morning when I went out to feed Ruby, she showed me that she had 4 babies.

When I took a little break from work around 11:15, I could hear her very plainly asking me for greens, and since she wouldn't come out to forage, I brought her handfuls of tender dandelion greens and clover.  She ate ravenously, while chicks hopped all around my hands to see what this new thing might be.  She hasn't been outside the enclosure to forage for three or four days now.  And yet, despite her obvious need for green nourishment, I noticed how careful she was around the chicks.  She would be eating in a frenzy, but when a curious chick would come between her and the food, she would check herself, go slower and more gently, eating around her offspring.

And yes, at 11:30 the count was 5 live chicks.  And one that didn't make it and had been carefully place away from the nest.  From that evidence I can see that she occasionally gets off the nest to move around her enclosure.  Mostly to clean house apparently, because the weeds in that area are untouched.

By my count there should be 4 more eggs left to hatch, but I will be jolly thrilled with any chicks I get, especially if they turn out to be hens.

I'll try to get pictures soon.

Well now, back to work.

One Fine Sunday

It's flippin' cold outside.  So my friend Ruby Hen has decided to go broody.  Through shorter daylight hours, stormy nights and cold temperatures, she has been on the nest.  And this morning, because I knew it was getting close...I peeped at her when I was feeding her.  And I was rewarded with an answering peep from underneath her fluffed up feathers.

I kept my distance, and gave her plenty of space.  But I'm sure she could hear my heart singing.  I'm sure it carried for miles.

This afternoon, as I was taking out the compost, I caught sight of two black fluffy chicks exploring the world around their mom.  As soon as she saw me she tucked them in under her.  And still, I kept my distance and cooed to her and told her what fine chicks they were, and what a good mother she was.

I guess she knows, I won't take them from her, because every time I call to her now, she stands up to show me a glimpse of her chicks.  And at the end of the day, she stood up to show me there were 3.

Oh to be brand new in the world.

They are already exploring, and tasting things and pecking at things, and it's only their first day. And even though they're so small, they look so sturdy, and independent.  I found myself saying a prayer to the angels who watch over brand new baby animals, and their moms.  Let me watch them grow.  Let me watch this Joy in the form of downy feathers, and soft peeps, and dancing feet.

And when the most confident one spread it's tiny little wings, I remembered the words of Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes talking about chicks.  "Don't you know the angels breath through their wings?"

I do now.  I've seen it first hand.

Spring!!!!!!!

It is the season of newness and it is the season of crazy, fast growth.  I love all the seasons, and for me Lady Spring is the season of Potential.

Potential to begin something new and different.  Potential to tap into the creative energy of Spring.  It is a stunning morning.  I see the sun is rising through the trees to the east, and the air is still, after the storm.

Yesterday with waning moon in Capricorn, I was determined to plant potatoes.  It's March! Time is fleeting.  The ground has been ready for days, and the potatoes were cut into seed pieces with their little eyes growing like mad, shouting "Plant us!"

But yesterday it was also raining and blustery, and I waited for hours, doing other things, hoping for the sky to clear and the rain to stop and then towards late afternoon, I realized I needed to make a choice.

I decided to go out in the rain and plant potatoes.  I was dressed warmly, and as I was putting my boots on, I remembered other times in my life when I needed the weather to accommodate me, and it did.  So I just decided to ask.

I asked that the storm would subside while I planted potatoes.  I stepped outside and the rain slowed to a light drizzle, and by the time I had my garden fork and trowel in hand, the rain stopped entirely.  There was an actual break in the clouds and the sky brightened as the sun shone through.

I could see a wall of big dark clouds in the distant horizon, and they were coming fast, so I worked fast too.  I tucked the little seed potatoes into their well prepped beds and finished just as the clouds rolled in overhead, hiding the sun.  I straightened up and heard the wind roaring and saw the trees windmilling their branches.  And I laughed.  Their was so much joy in the wildness of the storm all around me, and so much beauty in the synchronous timing of the weather during planting.

I put my tools away, and walked around my place, enjoying the wind in motion and picking up things blown in by the storm.  I took a moment to reinforce the fence in the hen yard, before heading back inside.  I was taking my boots off on the back porch when I looked up to see the rain had started up again.  I laughed once more, and sent out a wave of joyous gratitude to nature and the creative consciousness.  My way of throwing my arms wide to embrace the All.