I find this really inspiring - human storytelling as something rooted in the local. All these amazing movements you're describing - which I think are so important to highlight so that we can all see there is a large-scale movement made up of small-scale actions that converge in the large-scale not in terms of sameness or even coordination but in terms of solidarity - so many of them are about getting local, and being a part of the natural cycles, as you so beautifully describe. I often think about these two different worlds - the one on my computer screen vs. the one out my front door - but you're so right to point out that they are connected. It's easy to see ones joy in nature as just a personal taste or place of escape.
Thank you, Jo. A lot of what I'm after here evolves out of the importance of remembering and connecting the two worlds. Which, I suppose, really means that there's just one world, or better yet, that one is a fiction entirely contained within a greater reality.
I started reading Jason, and this old song came to mind. I’m sure you remember it. I’m quoting just the very beginning ;Turn!Turn!Turn!
Song by The Byrds
( Pete Seger and the Bible; The book of Ecclesiastes)
“To everything turn, turn, turn.There is a season turn, turn, turn. And a time to every purpose under Heaven”
Your photo , captioned,“Testing the River”, in these trying times, I think those of us who thrive on immersing ourselves in nature, metaphorically speaking, stand at the confluence, riparian to , but ever careful of being trapped in the roil and rush of the rivers in early spring. Water rushing down from the mountains, urgent and beautiful as it carves through ice and over boulders, feeding new life to the thawing world. One step more, and you will be taken by the current, swept away in the undertow, lost in the dense mud of debris . I do not surrender my season, winter very well. Unlike my ability to identify birds and their song, I know little of the names and genus species of moss and lichens. But I have always stopped in my path to take a closer look. And this is how I survive during these trying times. The yin and the yang. No matter how frightening, I feel it is so important to make every effort to stay informed, whether political, or environmental. Finding my balance and sanity in
Thank you, Lor. I'm a little slow in responding this week... but I appreciate you bringing in the music, both popular and ecological. I like especially your line about not easily surrendering your season. This is also very true for Heather, whose feet are in the river.
Thanks for your thoughtful essay and masterful sharing of both the wonders of spring renewal and it's juxtaposition with the harsh realities of current human society. We are smack in the heart of the great turning of the ages, experiencing our human miscreations crumbling in real time. As you remind us, there is simultaneously a rebirth happening as people invent new, better ways to live in harmony with our beloved Earth and all her life. I loved the poetic verse about life and death as mates and lovers! Your essay reminds me again that we need poetry, acute awareness and attention to life returning from the heart of darkness.
I totally understand, Lynn. Thank you for letting me know. For the four years I've been doing this I've debated the comparative virtues of doing the research and writing these longer pieces vs. offering shorter, more lyrical work. So far I've kept to the long form because it allows me to go deeper, but I know it's not for everyone. It's a balance I'll keep thinking about in the months and years to come.
This is quite beautiful and I appreciate it for the acknowledgement of the shifting around us, in us, through us. A friend and I were "debating" the other night about boundaries or lack there of in life - how are we in that ? Or are we of it ? It seems to me that there are boundaries BUT that those boundaries are constantly fluid and permeable - like the tide they mix and recede again - and sometimes in the mixing something uniquely new is born again...and on and on it goes. Love your pieces. Thank you for your thoughtfulness in a time when that is everything.
Thanks very much for all the kind words, Susan. And for reminding us of the impermanence of boundaries. I was just thinking this evening, again, about how pretty much everything we're taught to think of as discrete concepts - species, gender, habitats, individuals, etc. - when viewed through the fullness of the natural world are merely tendencies in the middle of a spectrum of possibilities. We like neat concepts, but they rarely hold up in the real world.
You write, "Do I live on the Earth amid its patterns of slow, sudden, and seasonal change, or do I occupy a data point in the cultural flood of information? How do I portion out my loyalties to both the river and the news? How deep in either torrent of change should I stand?"
I dare not preach to you or anyone else, but for myself the answer to these questions is unitary: I myself am the torrent and continual emergence. Whether autocracies rise or fall, whether the planet heats or cools, whether the universe itself expands or collapses- in the middle of the raging fires of change, if I but stay true to compassion and loving kindness, it all matters not.
There is a still center in the midst of all tumult. It abides eternally I feel.
It is a sovereign medicine Jason. I sense you will willing bind yourself here, experience the people's hopes and fears, their loves and angers- all that you may be more effective helping them this is next to the highest calling.
Thank you for taking us on your walks. Brings back memories of our walk in Acadia. Missing Eddy in this glorious spring. Our Earth is so giving.
Thank you, Tricia. Yes, we think of him all the time too. So much to share in this beautiful world. Be well.
I find this really inspiring - human storytelling as something rooted in the local. All these amazing movements you're describing - which I think are so important to highlight so that we can all see there is a large-scale movement made up of small-scale actions that converge in the large-scale not in terms of sameness or even coordination but in terms of solidarity - so many of them are about getting local, and being a part of the natural cycles, as you so beautifully describe. I often think about these two different worlds - the one on my computer screen vs. the one out my front door - but you're so right to point out that they are connected. It's easy to see ones joy in nature as just a personal taste or place of escape.
Thank you, Jo. A lot of what I'm after here evolves out of the importance of remembering and connecting the two worlds. Which, I suppose, really means that there's just one world, or better yet, that one is a fiction entirely contained within a greater reality.
I started reading Jason, and this old song came to mind. I’m sure you remember it. I’m quoting just the very beginning ;Turn!Turn!Turn!
Song by The Byrds
( Pete Seger and the Bible; The book of Ecclesiastes)
“To everything turn, turn, turn.There is a season turn, turn, turn. And a time to every purpose under Heaven”
Your photo , captioned,“Testing the River”, in these trying times, I think those of us who thrive on immersing ourselves in nature, metaphorically speaking, stand at the confluence, riparian to , but ever careful of being trapped in the roil and rush of the rivers in early spring. Water rushing down from the mountains, urgent and beautiful as it carves through ice and over boulders, feeding new life to the thawing world. One step more, and you will be taken by the current, swept away in the undertow, lost in the dense mud of debris . I do not surrender my season, winter very well. Unlike my ability to identify birds and their song, I know little of the names and genus species of moss and lichens. But I have always stopped in my path to take a closer look. And this is how I survive during these trying times. The yin and the yang. No matter how frightening, I feel it is so important to make every effort to stay informed, whether political, or environmental. Finding my balance and sanity in
“…the beauty of moss emerging from snow”.
Thank you, Lor. I'm a little slow in responding this week... but I appreciate you bringing in the music, both popular and ecological. I like especially your line about not easily surrendering your season. This is also very true for Heather, whose feet are in the river.
Thanks for your thoughtful essay and masterful sharing of both the wonders of spring renewal and it's juxtaposition with the harsh realities of current human society. We are smack in the heart of the great turning of the ages, experiencing our human miscreations crumbling in real time. As you remind us, there is simultaneously a rebirth happening as people invent new, better ways to live in harmony with our beloved Earth and all her life. I loved the poetic verse about life and death as mates and lovers! Your essay reminds me again that we need poetry, acute awareness and attention to life returning from the heart of darkness.
Thank you, Leigh. There is so much good work and good words to focus on amid the chaos, and I do try to attend to both.
Over rotting logs,
moss, lichen community.
Emerging spring, us?
...
There is so much more,
and so much we’ve been missing.
Undiscovered seas.
...
Occupy real world.
River of life, flood of news.
Change. And on we go.
Leaving because I’ve signed up to too many feeds, and I have no time to read long essays. Not because I’m not interested or don’t care. Must work…
I totally understand, Lynn. Thank you for letting me know. For the four years I've been doing this I've debated the comparative virtues of doing the research and writing these longer pieces vs. offering shorter, more lyrical work. So far I've kept to the long form because it allows me to go deeper, but I know it's not for everyone. It's a balance I'll keep thinking about in the months and years to come.
Thanks for being here. Take care, J
Exquisite piece of writing about the spring of 2025!
Thank you, Anne.
This is quite beautiful and I appreciate it for the acknowledgement of the shifting around us, in us, through us. A friend and I were "debating" the other night about boundaries or lack there of in life - how are we in that ? Or are we of it ? It seems to me that there are boundaries BUT that those boundaries are constantly fluid and permeable - like the tide they mix and recede again - and sometimes in the mixing something uniquely new is born again...and on and on it goes. Love your pieces. Thank you for your thoughtfulness in a time when that is everything.
Thanks very much for all the kind words, Susan. And for reminding us of the impermanence of boundaries. I was just thinking this evening, again, about how pretty much everything we're taught to think of as discrete concepts - species, gender, habitats, individuals, etc. - when viewed through the fullness of the natural world are merely tendencies in the middle of a spectrum of possibilities. We like neat concepts, but they rarely hold up in the real world.
You write, "Do I live on the Earth amid its patterns of slow, sudden, and seasonal change, or do I occupy a data point in the cultural flood of information? How do I portion out my loyalties to both the river and the news? How deep in either torrent of change should I stand?"
I dare not preach to you or anyone else, but for myself the answer to these questions is unitary: I myself am the torrent and continual emergence. Whether autocracies rise or fall, whether the planet heats or cools, whether the universe itself expands or collapses- in the middle of the raging fires of change, if I but stay true to compassion and loving kindness, it all matters not.
There is a still center in the midst of all tumult. It abides eternally I feel.
That's beautiful, Michael. Thank you.
It is a sovereign medicine Jason. I sense you will willing bind yourself here, experience the people's hopes and fears, their loves and angers- all that you may be more effective helping them this is next to the highest calling.