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I can’t believe this is the last night.
The last night to sit here at this computer and tell you stories about the day’s outdoor adventures.
How quickly a year passes!
One minute you’re dancing around a bonfire mouthing the words “I’m going to go outside every day for 365 days and write a blog every day about what happens!” and the next minute you’re sitting weepy-eyed at your computer thinking back on the entire year.
I don’t even know how to adequately wrap it up into a nice little package. How to end it. How to thank all of you readers enough. I don’t even know how I’m going to get up tomorrow and not have one to three hours of outdoor commitment and blogging. It’s going to be a new doorway, a new chapter in life. And it’s hard…because this chapter has been so precious.
A friend asked: What did you learn this year? How has your outdoor commitment changed you?
This is a hard question to answer. I will try my best to answer it here.
I learned that succeeding in a commitment involves something stronger than one’s thoughts and feelings. Our thoughts and feelings are like weather. One minute we want to do something; the next minute we don’t. If we want to succeed in a commitment, we must follow something deeper and stronger than our surface thoughts and emotions. In my case, I challenged myself to go outside everyday. Since that wasn’t the easiest or more natural path (although during the warm months I already probably went outside as much or more than most people) I linked it to something I loved–blogging. When you want to change a behavior, connect it to something you love. It will help you. Also, for me, publically announcing this intent proved paramount. There was no way I could go back on my commitment after all you folks knew about it!
I learned how to see better this year through the lens of the camera. To capture the miracles of nature, to see deeper, to view wider vistas. The camera has become a second eye, always sweeping the landscape, always searching for new and interesting sights. Before this year, I belittled the camera. (Oh, shame, Kathy!) Belittled folks who would spend hours hidden behind the camera lens instead of experiencing the world directly. (Beware what you scorn! You, too, may be soon be in the same position.) I am wondering what this next week will bring. Will I drop the camera, forget about it, return to pre-photography days? Or will it stay a second eye, a second skin, another way of viewing the world?
The two biggest challenges proved: 1) going outside and staying outside when I didn’t want to be outside and 2) relaxing enough to be confident that there would be something to write about each evening. My husband writes a weekly column for the local newspaper. He struggles to come up with enough inspiration to write something every week; he said he can’t imagine how one could write something every day for a year. It WAS challenging. But, funny thing, something always presented itself. Something always came forth. So often I would empty my mind and sit at the computer and simply watch something larger than myself writing the story. Even on the one day when nothing came to mind (and no photographs presented themselves) a story came forth about not having anything to write. It was amazing!
The most amazing thing, to me, has been the support and love of friends and family. (Darn, crying again…) You readers have enriched my life so very much. I can’t even begin to thank you enough for stopping by, for commenting, for sending emails, for cheerleading. For the family members with whom we have deepened our love and connection, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I have also made friends across the world, special friends who send Christmas cards and books and emails and other gifts. You don’t know how much your simple presence and accompaniment has meant. YOU are all so special and unique and wonderful….thank you from my whole being.
Here’s a quick story (see! I’m having trouble finishing today’s blog) to illustrate something that I’ve learned this year. Today I walked through deep snow down to the bay. On the way back, two choices presented themselves. Either I walk the “easy” way along the established path…or wade down to a little creek, jump across, and view the back of the pond.
Most of me wanted to just continue on the easy path, but it looked like there were new and interesting places to explore on the other side of the creek. So I slid down the snowy hill and leapt across the creek.
That is my wish for all of you: when faced with the easy paths, choose to jump across more creeks. Choose to try something a little difficult, to venture off the beaten path, to risk getting your feet wet. You can do it. And your rewards will be…more than you ever suspected.
If I decide to start another blog, I will link it on this WordPress page. Blessings to all of you as we approach the Winter Solstice tomorrow. May you feel inspired to listen to the Earth’s teachings. Thank you again for everything you have contributed to the outdoor commitment. One person doesn’t make a commitment alone–we are all enriched by the support of our family and friends.
Day 364 of the outdoor commitment.
Question to various relatives: which blogs did you like best?
Various relatives: Oh no! Which ones…? We don’t know. Ummm, let us think. We’ll get back to you.
Tonight’s entry involves reporting to you all the answers thus far received. We’ll start with my husband, Barry. He voted for every single “action” blog. He liked the outdoor adventures where we did things together, where we explored Baraga County and the surrounding area (he loved Duluth back in July!) This commitment has really been precious because we spent so much time together in the Great Outdoors, visiting places we have ignored in the past 20-30 years since we became so “busy” with everyday life.
His votes: The Slate Quarry blog (also known as The blog has had a big day today), Backwoods Adventure to the “Million Dollar railroad” and all the fishing adventures including Hey I caught a fish! (Please click on any of the links to view the old posts.)
Christopher, our son, voted for the crazed robin blogs, the ones where they pecked incessantly at our windows for months, including Crazed robin and stalking the first wildflower and The danger of philandering husbands. He also liked This blog is going to the dogs where those neighborhood dogs hounded in on my walk. And, finally, his sociologist side really enjoyed Horizon Envy, written in late November.
Kiah, our daughter, liked the very first Solstice blog (because she was there when we lit the bonfire and stated our yearly intentions!) She also voted for all the travel blogs, which included trips to New York City (see 5/19-5/22 including Opening the door, going down 15 floors in the elevator, saying goodbye to the doorman and walking outside, Fort Myers Beach, Florida, Duluth, my hometown of Yale, Georgia and San Diego. Did I remember them all? Another favorite of hers: What is nature anyway? (I liked that, too.)
My parents didn’t want to list any particular blogs but my mom wrote this: ” My favorite blogs were all of them that had you with family members across the nation and the related pictures. A snapshot (pun) look back at your blogs in general is a kaleidoscope of exceptionally beautiful pictures which run through my mind all the time!”
My mother-in-law liked the Duluth series (7/12 – 7/14 including “We go Duluth” and Duluth: Take Two. You may not want to swim there quite yet) She also really liked the Pow Wow blogs If you listen to the Pow Wow drums you will never be the same and Farewell Pow Wow. Until next year. She (and Kiah) also voted for the more recent one about the Santas and Snowmen: Dear Kids, The Santas and Snowmen opened the door and walked outside!
And now, you might be wondering which blogs I liked. Oh, that is a dangerous question. A very dangerous question indeed. How can a mother choose one child over another? How can we choose one blog over another? Each was special in its own way. Some caused laughter, some caused tears. Some proved easy to write; others hard. They were all so unique.
Nonetheless, because this blog has forced me to review many of the 365 days…I will offer you a FEW of my favorite ones. (All you other blogs, please do not pout. I love you, too.)
OK, here’s my secret. I have a special fondness for the philosophical/spiritual blogs. The ones that perhaps questioned a little deeper. The ones which prodded below the surface a little bit. Such as Asking nature for advice and What is beautiful and what is not? However, having stated that, the one that made me laugh for days and days was: Let the Vegetables Speak! I laughed so hard about that one that Barry thought I was perhaps a little loco…
And then there was the blog Three gunshots at dawn which stirred my heart with its simplicity, making me want to write simple blogs from that day forward. (Which probably didn’t happen again.) And then there was Skin which seemed to elicit a visceral sense of connection with tree bark. But I think my all-time favorite may have been the sweat lodge blog: Sweat lodge memories: fire, rock, lodge, medicine.
Phew! This was a LOT of work looking for these old blogs, copying, pasting, hyperlinking. I really could keep adding more and more. But now I’m all weepy-eyed and nostalgic and already missing this most incredible year. And it’s not over until tomorrow… Sniff…
Dear Kids, I broke the news to the Santas and the Snowmen today. Told them–ever so gently–that you would not be coming home for Christmas this year.
You would never believe what happened next! They jumped off their tic-tac-toe red and white Christmas board and marched toward the front door. Every last one of them. We stood shocked in disbelief! What were the Santas and the Snowmen going to do?
We know, don’t we, that these particular Santas and Snowmen have a history of unpredictability. They are always doing something wild and crazy. Ever since I won them in that Christmas raffle at Aura a few years back, they have been keeping us on our toes! Odd things happen all the time, don’t they?
Remember the time when they all looked like they were going to commit suicide jumping off the table in the living room. A few of them lay helter-skelter on the carpeted floor beneath their kamikaze jumping place. Remember how we laughed? How we laughed until we almost cried? (Silly Santas and Snowmen! What kind of holiday spirit was that?)
Then remember how every year the darn fellows appeared somewhere else? One year they climbed near the ceiling and sat way up high near the plants. Haven’t they been discovered in the bathtub, in the refrigerator, and a half-dozen other crazy places? Maybe they’ve even been outside before.
But I wasn’t expecting their behavior this afternoon. They simply all stood up and silently marched outside.
Down the porch steps they marched in single file. Out into the snow. Toward the cars! Were they deserting us forever? Just because you both aren’t coming home for Christmas? The very first Christmas when BOTH of you won’t be with us?
I tried to get the leader to talk. He was a Santa. “Where are you going?” I begged, “Please come back!” But on they marched. “Next year maybe they’ll be home for Christmas!” I hollered after them. They refused to look back.
Perhaps they are walking to Manhattan and San Diego. Perhaps they have booked airline tickets. It’s hard to say what these Santas and Snowmen will do. I just wanted you to be the first to know that you’re obviously going to be very much missed this year, you kids.
Even the Santas and Snowmen think so.
Welcome to our little blizzard. Yep, parts of the Midwest of this United States of America have been hit hard. We have…how many inches? I brought the yardstick outside to try and gauge the exact amount. Twelve inches? Fourteen inches? And the storm has not stopped yet.
I awoke at 5:45 a.m. and blearily logged onto the Internet to see if school/work had been cancelled. No announcements. But I was pretty sure that we would not be having school. The wind rushed and screamed outside the window at maybe 40 miles per hour. The snow blew sideways. I predicted: no school. But settled down beneath blankets on the couch to wait. I admired the way our little ceramic Christmas tree reflected in the window as dawn approached.
The call came at 6:30. Our principal announced “No School”. Hurray! A day off work.
Most of my day was spent inside with the front door securely latched. But, never fear!, I remembered the outdoor commitment. Divided it into three mini-portions. The first involved a meandering to the mailbox. One truly must meander very slowly during a blizzard. The foot goes up in the air, sinks down in the heavy snow. Slowly one makes her way through the leaden snow drifts. The wind blows snow sideways in your face. You persevere. You get the mail. You head back to the house.
The second trip outdoors…what did I do? I don’t remember. Maybe I just stood around hoping to catch the wind whipping up blizzard-like snow. My eyelashes turned snowy. It didn’t feel too cold, though.
The third trip outside, after dark, involved digging out buried cars. This was truly a job. A snow scraper isn’t enough. One must find a push broom in the garage, and then broom off the foot or more of snow. It helps to blare Christmas music from the car’s speakers. It helps to have one’s husband atop his tractor, fitted with a snowplow, beaming light around the driveway.
On the bright side, I accomplished much indoors today. (Shhh…this is suppose to be an outdoor blog. I’m not suppose to tell you about indoor activities.) I finished the novel that I’ve been writing for NaNoWriMo since November 1st. It’s somewhere between 60,000-63,000 words. It all ended rather well. The heroine did not die, although she almost did. She married the hero and we hope they are going to live happily ever after. The novel combined a true historical setting from around our area…and some of my favorite things, spirituality and dreaming. I am happy. The characters in the novel are happy. Now, with a little editing, it might someday be possible to actually SHOW the novel to someone! Excuse me. I mean a LOT of editing.
I’ve been fascinated by the patterns of the freezing rivers lately. The rivers have been donning their winter garb of ice and snow, settling in for the long freezing days and nights.
Yesterday I photographed the Silver River as it passed under Townline Road, but today drove a little distance up Skanee Road to wander along the river through the woods. How it meanders! How the river dances around this bend and those rapids, never stopping, always moving. Until ice renders it deceptively silent and still. Don’t walk on it yet! In fact, I have never walked on river ice. The currents still run beneath the silent frozen surface.
Years ago I dreamed of falling through the ice on the Silver River, sucked down beneath the hard glass surface, unable to find a way to the hole, unable to find a way back up. It was not a happy dream.
In some places the river looks muddy and brown. If you walk around the curve, it suddenly struts its beauty in stark white. Fascinating patterns swirl everywhere. Rivers of ice exist within rivers of sparkling water.
The camera uploaded more than fifty photos by the time it finished shooting the patterns and swirls. It seemed impossible to pick eight photos to show you. Each one looks so unique, so different. In the end, I just closed my eyes and picked. (Well, not really! But you get the idea…)
We are surrounded by such beauty that we do not notice. I have never before thought of wandering by the riverside documenting the freezing of river ice. Why don’t we think to do such things?
There are rumors that a big snow storm is headed for the Upper Peninsula. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe the next day? Some areas may get ten to fifteen inches. Baraga County is part of that warning. You can read about it here if you like. Sigh…winter seems to be starting awfully early this year.
It’s lovely to sit inside when the snow falls. You feel so cozy and peaceful and snug. It’s even fun to put on your warm winter clothes and go outside. What is challenging is when loved ones (or one’s self) need to be on the road. Driving in a snowstorm is no fun. The snow loses its appeal very rapidly.
Back to our discussion of freezing rivers. It’s interesting to get right up close to the edge of the ice. Not too close! You don’t want to fall in. But close enough to linger at the edge of something brand new. Something beautiful. Something we’re going to get to know very intimately during the next four or five months…
How to make the perfect apple crisp:
Find a tree laden with wild apples. Cultivated apples are OK, too. If you find a tree the pioneers planted, your crisp will be filled with pioneer spirit. Try to avoid the grocery store. Supermarket apples tend to be filled with supermarket spirit. Not conducive to the best apple crisp.
Fill an oiled 8 inch pan three-quarters full of sliced peeled apples. Peer in at your apples. Smell them. Remember what summer felt like. Remember what autumn felt like. Take a bite. Slowly savor the apple-crispin’ flavor of the apple before you even bake it. Crunch. Chew slowly. Chew even more slowly so you can taste every single subtle sweet tangy buttery whatever-you-might-call-it flavor. Think of three words to describe your apple flavor. Pretend that you’re an apple connoisseur.
After you’ve filled your pan with apples, it’s topping time! You have two choices. You can pile a traditional topping over the apples such as the one below:
Traditional: Mix 3/4 cup quick oats, 3/4 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup flour and 1/2 cup soft margarine or butter. Mix together well and place over the delectable apples. (Optional: add nuts and cinnamon, as described below.)
Or you can choose Vegan, also known as non-dairy. Which is what I would choose at this stage in my life. But because I don’t write recipe creations down, I’m going to try to remember the last (approximate) apple crisp topping created:
Kathy’s topping: Mix 3/4 cup oats, 1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour, two tablespoons vegetable oil (OK you guys can use three tablespoons if you still have good gall bladders) and three tablespoons of maple syrup, honey, agave syrup or rice syrup. Toss in cinnamon! Not too much, not too little. Maybe a teaspoon if you’re into needing more exact measurements. Now go find your nuts. Grab a handful of pecans, chopped almonds, sunflower seeds, cashews or whatever kind you like. Just chop ’em up into a reasonable bite-able size. Add to the topping mixture. OK, and if you adore flaked coconut, add some of that, too. That looks good, doesn’t it? Ready for the oven.
Now put the apple crisp in the oven to bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes. Think about how much you enjoy seeing those apple trees at the sides of roads at this time of year. The world looks gray and bleak and the trees wave their skeleton arms at you as you pass.
But in the midst of all that grayness, the Apple Trees still cling to their apple children! Like red and yellow Christmas balls, they brighten up the landscape. On a sunshiny-blue-sky day, they look awesome. On a gray spitting snow day, their decorations look more muted, but you notice how their colors still make you feel…more festive.
I don’t suppose you should gather up the apples pictured above to eat now, though. Nope, they’ve been frozen more than once and are mushier than baked crisp. They are now reserved for the deer. You should have thought about your apple crisp in the autumn. (We don’t call this season autumn any more here. Nope. Even though they say winter doesn’t start for another two or three weeks, it’s definitely winter here.)
But now your timer is beeping and the smells coming out of your oven are FABULOUS! You thank those pioneers. You thank the farmers. If you can eat ice cream, go ahead and ladle a little scoop on your plate next to that steaming apple crisp. Oh look at it melt…
Now it’s time to take a bite. Ahhh…yessss….yum….apple crisp!
P.S. If anyone wants to disagree about the wonderful fabulous exceptional part of this heading…your difficulty would probably be that you couldn’t find pioneer or wild apples. Try to find ’em next year, OK?
The Anishinabe People (Ojibway) who live in our area call this December moon the Little Spirit Moon. Some refer to it the Small Spirits Moon. January’s moon is called the Great Spirit Moon.
This month, on December 31st, another moon will rise in our night sky. Many of us call the second moon in a month with two moons “The Blue Moon”. Which is why you’ve probably heard the old-time saying, “once in a blue moon” implying something doesn’t happen very often.
I do not know what the Anishinabe call the Blue Moon. I do not even know why they call this month the “Little Spirit Moon” although I could tell you some possible stories which may or may not be true. Today it made me think of the small things in life, the little spirits, the precious gifts of life which are sometimes easy to overlook.
Perhaps it’s because the sun keeps inching further and further away from our world. As the darkness descends oh-so-early some people experience a feeling of despair or apathy or depression. Perhaps “Small Spirits Moon” is meant to imply this is a time of year when our spirits sometimes flag or despair. I’ve heard it said that our Christmas lights and candles burn in the darkness to help us through the bridge of the Winter Solstice. That we share the light in this deepening darkness to help each other through these days.
As the earth in this northern hemisphere tilts away from the sun, the snows begin to fall. The ice begins to freeze on our lakes and rivers. We saw the first ice forming on a couple small lakes today.
Most of my outdoor commitment happened after dark today. When one is planning to write a blog about the moon, one should go outside and look for it. However, it wasn’t ready to rise in our sky at 7 p.m. So I ambled in the dark. How many of you have ambled in the dark in a forest?
It is a very interesting experience.
You can see that it was snowing lightly this evening. While it was dark, there seemed enough light to avoid falling in ditches, blindly running into trees or tripping over stumps. I stayed fairly close to the house. The wind rustled through the trees. Suddenly–over there!–a great rustling ensued! (My mind then began to wonder what that rustling might be. Bears? Deer? Chipmunks?) But the rustling stopped and the forest returned to silence punctuated with dog barks in the distance, perhaps the yip of a coyote, the low hoot of a faraway owl.
Even though the snow fell gently down from the sky, it almost felt warm. It’s nice to be bundled up in your warmest clothes when outside in December after dark.
Goodnight, Little Spirit Moon.
P.S. I just looked at the last two photos on a different computer and can not even SEE the ghostly images of trees and snow flakes and the soft etchings of our house against the darkness. On this computer they basically look like two black photos. Laughing…well I guess SOME of you can see the subtle ghostly images and the rest of you can enjoy the black night. tee hee…
It finally happened today. Three hundred forty-four days into the outdoor commitment and the Moment came.
The Moment I had always feared.
I opened the door, walked outside, aimed the camera at… Aimed the camera at… Aimed the camera at… And there was nothing interesting in front of the camera. Nothing. Not a darn thing.
Everything looked too ordinary to even focus the lens. I peered everywhere. Up close and far away. Up close all you can see are the following: dried reddish leaves, smatterings of snow, dried plants and flowers, leafless bones of trees and… Well, that’s it.
I marched down the road in a tizzy. What to photograph, what to photograph?
It was getting more desperate by the moment. How can you write a blog when there are no photographs? Why oh why have I put in five to seven photos a day recently? What stupidity! I should have only posted two a day, and then there would be plenty of leftovers to make it through the November/December stark days of gray and white.
I met our neighbor, AJ, a blog reader, on the road. He was dressed in his hunter-orange jacket to avoid getting shot by errant guns during hunting season. I was wearing red plaid. (Why oh why didn’t I think to photograph AJ?)
“AJ, there’s nothing to photograph, nothing in the world!” I moaned pathetically. “Everything has already been photographed!”
“Yes, there is,” he replied patiently. “You could take a picture of the stop sign at the end of the road.”
(The stop sign at the end of the road? The stop sign at the end of the road?)
But then he explained.
“There’s a gun hole through the stop sign at the end of the road. Somebody shot the stop sign.”
Now I suppose I could have gone up to the end of the road and taken a photo of that stop sign, but I was walking the other way and already planning a blog about how there was nothing to photograph. We said our goodbyes and I continued my mental fretting, “There’s nothing to photograph. I have photographed everything in this county for 344 days…how in the world to get through the next three weeks?”
Of course when I got home Barry then had to offer sixteen suggestions during the rest of the afternoon. How about this? How about that?
So now I’m not stumped anymore but because the only available photo was a stump…
P.S. And since the majority of readers tend to drop in on Monday, all I can suggest is this: If you want to look at photos, how about review some of the older blogs? As Barry just said, even Jay Leno has re-runs.
P.S.S. Anyone else have any ideas? Any outdoor adventures left undone? Please?
Dear Friends, Black Friday has come and (almost) gone. We’ve all decided to give natural items for the holiday this year, haven’t we? Especially for our virtual friends. Because most of us only know each other in cyber-realms, we shall have to exchange cyber-gifts. This avoids the prohibitive cost of mailing. Please sit down at your computer and prepare to open your gift. I suppose you can have more than one. You don’t even have to wait for the holidays. Please be considerate of the other cyber-recipients, though.
I shopped for gifts for all of you today. Oh my, there are too many of you to name with insulting at least dozens of you. But I am going to throw out some names at the top of my head. (All of the names not mentioned are at the bottom of my head, which doesn’t mean I love you less, it just means that for some reason you were waiting patiently at the bottom of the head and didn’t funnel out first.)
So here are gifts for the Susans, Cindy, Gerry, the Amys, Joanne, Dale, Kiah, Christopher, Craig, the many Jessicas, fountainpen, Gigi, Sybil, Emma, Julia, Pamela, Sandy, Christine, Carla, the Dawns, Deborah, Jen, Karen, Melinda, Catherine, Yellow Bells, Christie, Scot, Tim, Mom, Dad, Georgia Mom, Patty, Sonya, Kim, Janet, Laurie, Raven, H. Forward, Mrs. Uhdd, Reggie, Maunderer, Kath, Bree, Nature Loving Super Mama, Iris, Tina, Doris, Margo, Nancy…AND IF I’VE MISSED ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS A PRESENT PLEASE GIVE A HOLLER AND YOU CAN CLAIM YOUR VIRTUAL GIFT TOO! (oh and all you unknown blog readers…please…take a gift. I am so thankful for all of you for stopping to read, even though we might never even have “officially” met in this virtual or earthly world.)
Of course this was all Sahlah’s idea. As I posted yesterday, she got the brilliant idea that we should shop for rocks and feathers and twigs and such on Black Friday for all our blog readers.
If we meet face-to-face on the street I will give you a real rock. I swear it. I will carry around that basket of stones in my car until the Solstice. However, I’m afraid that there’s only a handful of you within shouting distance. So the rest of you must be satisfied with virtual gifts. As we’ve only had virtual acquaintance, I’m sure you won’t be dismayed or disappointed.
These are some of my prized possessions and gifts from the woods. But I’m willing to give them away to you in spirit, because I know you will honor them. You readers, I can tell, share a deep love for the earth, for the blessings of the land, for the abundance which surrounds us everywhere.
Rocks, feathers, pieces of woods, antlers, sticks.
As precious as Nintendos, computers (hmmm?), cell phones, iPods?
In the above virtual stone gift you could have one rock or both. It’s up to you. It’s kind of hard to separate them in the virtual world, though.
OK, tomorrow I really do have to hit a few stores for a few small gifts. I’m not a big shopper. (Can you tell? Maybe I could just shop virtually from now on. Tell the relatives, “Just log in on-line and you can see a picture of my gift for you.” Hmmm, wonder how far that one would go?)
Hope all of the rest of you had fun on your Black Friday shopping. Enjoy your gifts! 🙂
Pardon me, Mr. Tree.
Are you up for a discussion?
Have any advice for us humans? Anything you want to share with us? Any words of wisdom?
Should we be looking up at the sky or down at the earth? Optimistic? Pessimistic? Realistic? Which direction should we look?
Should we look up close? Is the answer in the details or in the wider view? What do you think? Please don’t just stand there with your branches blowing in the wind. Whisper some secrets. Tell us the Secret of Life. Please.
Ahhh, so that’s the language you speak. All the swirls and hieroglyphs. Are we suppose to understand what you’re trying to say in your tree-ness? What ancient Egyptian-like language are you speaking? Do we need to get quieter, Mr. Tree?
You are saying something, aren’t you? Something deep. Something profound. Something miraculous.
What is it?
Oh, yes. I hear you now. You say to us, “You are barely scratching the surface”.
That is your message to us tonight.
We will go deeper tomorrow. Look deeper. Look wider. Keep our eyes wide open.
Please continue to teach us with your bark and leaves and roots and seeds. Help us to look beyond the surface. Help us find our own tree-nature hidden beneath our feeble twig-language. Help us learn to bend without breaking in strong winds, how to let go of our leaves when the time comes.
Thank you, Mr. Tree.