Warmth and sunshine blessed these past days, drying leaves and plants and finally the mold and mildew of the watery August. All of a sudden it seems, leaves are turning
and cool autumn nights whisper of the frozen days to come. Just at the moment of balanced light, I step onto the path that will lead to the grounding of my dream
and the manifestation of a vision long held. First, before I tell you of this, there are
gifts from the land to share, small jewels of shape and color and pattern.
The teasel has grown two exquisite meandering spirals,
she must have heard how much I love spirals - and teasel -
her form alone is enough to captivate me for hours.
At the edge of the road is a maple tree well-loved by red squirrels,
their small entrance hole is beautifully ringed in
rusty hues.
Turning around, I see another entrance on a tree that
looks as though she might someday get up and walk away.
The beautiful windflowers offered up their petals in pink piles
on the ground revealing their radial, reaching form.
Late color in the garden is so utterly surprising,
I sat with this coltsfoot for a long time learning
about purples and greens and the river-like
meanderings of bugs.
Afternoon light in a canopy of autumn trees is spectacular.
One small glowing oak leaf, low to the ground,
rivals cathedral windows, I muse. I walk from one glittering
light show to another, all only a foot or so from the ground,
each worthy of a small gasp.
A few late bloomers add a touch of magenta.
Northern sea oats dance green-gold and salmon in the
slanting afternoon rays.
I wander to the newly cleared bit of forest,
full of gratitude and a bit of disbelief that
my dream for this place will soon be manifest.
So long have I waited to bring my work fully home:
to earth and ground, to teasel spirals and raven calls,
to owl feathers and the embrace of mosses and
hemlocks and towering oaks.
Two years of grant writing and paperwork,
business plans and meetings, hirings and firings of contractors,
phone calls and deadlines, holding tight to
strong vision and deep dreaming -
soon,
IT WILL BE!
RavenWood Forest
Studio of Mythic & Environmental Arts
Where I will teach many things,
where dreams will be nurtured,
and nature will inspire,
seasonal turnings will be celebrated,
and mostly,
the question will not be how can we save the Earth,
but
how can the Earth save us?
There is a blue sky behind the gray mists,
and some nights I'm so excited I don't sleep,
for soon, my dreaming will find roots in the Earth,
and a small, beautifully built cottage will tuck into a clearing
in the forest.
Profound gratitude is a foundation like no other.
"Blue Sky Behind Gray Mists", watercolor, 2011
