Spring’s Simple ReTreat : it’s all here.

 

 

*Spring’s Simple ReTreat*

it’s all there

 

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Claytonia virginica : spring beauty

 

We just passed the breathtaking tipping point. The beautiful balance between light and dark before the lengthening days take full stride. The vernal equinox is a time of vibrant beginnings and energized awakenings. Time for deep connection of distant rememberings. Disconnecting to reconnect, letting the faded blooms decay to nourish new life. The new growth sprinkling the landscape with gems of colorful renewal. Coaxing curiosity with breeze kisses to wander into the woods, dip your toes in, and saunter through the serene. It is joyful and colorful; coy and exuberant.

 

In many ancient cultures & traditions still remembered today, it has long been the beginning of spring by this turning point. Our region seems to be reflecting that quite beautifully this year with perennials barely hibernating & early bursts of blooms abound amidst historically cold times.

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Magnolia liliiflora : lily magnolia : with forsythia accent

Spring is alive amidst the fog and haze. Sure as new growth and life and death and decay. Just as the night ever overcomes, so does the long light always return. And then again retreat. But only after becoming suspended in balance, in Between.

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Prunus pendula : woodside edged weeping cherry blossoms

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Prunus pendula: dainty wild weeping cherry just sprinklin’ into bloom edging the driveway<3*

And then back in the flow again. No such time or date or balance. Always moving in this state and that, ever spiraling, changing, growing, fading. Nature, the season, and the cycles, all of Life, in an open-ended dance and endless unfolding. Weaving and twisting, separating and individualizing. Dancing and harmonizing and twisting… No constants or usual ‘normals’, simply steadily free flowing. Adapting and becoming, resilient and reserved. Brewing, executing, and observing all at once. The light, dark, above, below, within, without, between. It’s all there.

*.yellow hues of forsythia, celandine and narcissus illuminating moody spring tones

{{ does the light seem brighter in the dark? }} . *.yellow hues of forsythia, celandine and narcissus illuminating moody spring tunes.* .

We just passed the breathtaking tipping point. The beautiful balance between light and dark before the lengthening days take full stride. The vernal equinox is a time of vibrant beginnings and energized awakenings. Coaxing you with breeze kisses to wander into the woods, dip your toes in, and saunter through the serene. It is joyful and colorful; coy and exuberant.

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The moss-green pond skirted by butterbur hill, hugged by Magnolia grandiflora, wisped by forsythia, and backed by hellebore holler… stunning spring sight <*3

 

It’s the mist blanketing the sunrise, blurring the turning of immeasurable time. It’s the earth breathing with life, bubbling with mysteries, weaving white thread-less. It’s the symphony of early risers and late peepers, the morning phoebe call hopping a wobbled balance tune. It’s the natural pruning of spent stalks & heavy branches with the tender charm of the spring breeze. The broken, seasoned bits making way for new light to warm the depths. The careful selecting growth in gratitude for all of earth’s gifts and ethereal blessings. Blissful presence cultivated from the memories of passed seasons lovings and lessons. The next cycle nourished by the healing of before, wounds grow to woven knowns. It’s all there.

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Anemone blanda : woodland windflower : a fitting name for a welcome timely beauty in this cloudy winds-of-seasons-change time

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

 

It’s the forsythia glistening in the morning sun, dancing with life. It’s the call of the wood frogs, strong and keen and resting in the shadows. It’s the sweet, alluring scent on the changing breeze, dipping just in and out of reach, from the hyacinth, the lilac, sweet violets, the wild cherry, the… It’s the faint buzz of the drowsy first pollinators bumbling beneath the undergrow, calling & curiosity blazing the way. The flowers like flames to a yellow coal, nourishing and pleasurable.

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flaming Forsythia suspensa spring flags

 

It’s the soft fuzz of bud cover bursting gently at the crossroads, the blossoms finally breathing free. It’s the primal call of the hawk circling the waves, just out of sight and always in reach. It’s ancient pairings and new beginnings guiding through deep bone knowing. It’s the tingle of fresh, excited nettles waking you the last final bit from your deep slumber, welcoming you in. It’s the coy, playful bloodroots winking at you among the leafall, beckoning you to come seekcloser.

It’s the cackle of the wild turkeys joyful in the frolic. It’s the branches bearing to the weight and the earth catching the fall. It’s the kill, and spent parts, and past leaves feeding the next. Its the pruning of the old to nourish a’new. Its birds and fox and frogs fading and mating and renewing life. It’s the peeper harmonies in the evening, lulling you to ease. It’s gentle and sure and playful and persistent. Life and death, light and dark, rememberings and new beginnings. Coaxing you to distance closer and rediscover your neighbor. Uncover the truth and remember you.

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fiddleheads in the forest

 

Following the worn paths until unknown ones are made… surprising what leads where. That’s the only way light can pass through the breaks of dark, dawn, routine & sleep; the balance of Being & Flowing. You gotta get down in the dirt to find the new growth; dance up through the dark to find the new light {life}

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The woodland bridge crossing the stream at Grandpa’s Creek trail… there’s new wildflowers planted below the trees framing the bridge…

Ordinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit on the top of a dune motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.
-How I go to the woods, Mary Oliver
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Jim Duke’s chair over looking Margo’s creek surrounded by snowdrop scircle

 

Nature is whole and yet never finished.

We are of Nature.

 

 

Take a peek into the creek or down the woodland path and see what finds you. Oh the treasures we find when we don’t even try. Does the light seem brighter in the dark? May you get lost in the woods to find your self. Your peace. Your place. You can only see the magic if you look. The answers, the questions, the mysteries the curiosities. The present. Its all there.

 

 

In many ancient cultures & traditions still remembered today, it has long been the beginning of spring by this turning point. Our regions seems to be reflecting that quite beautifully this year with perennials barely hibernating & early bursts of blooms abound.

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vibrant Salvia rosmarinus flowers backdropped by Forsythia

 

Colorful chaos amidst overcast benevolence births moody mornings transformed to warm sunny afternoons.

The new days light piercing through the foggy overlay, brightening to the birdsong harmonies.

The evening showers soothe the nerves lulled to ease by the peeper melodies.

New growth stirs underfoot & simultaneously bursting through the dank soul,

Ripe with new energy and fresh beginnings, burrowed deep in fallow soil & nourished by mysteries.

Pastels and neons and coy shades of spring dapple the fields & woodlands welcoming curiosities.

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A Prayer in Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain harvest; keep us her

All simply in the springn of the year

 

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard chite,

Like nothings else by day, like ghosts by night;

And make us happy in the happy bee,

The swarm filating round the perfect trees.

 

And make us happy in the darting bird

That suddenly above the bees is heard,

The metoer that thrusts in with needle bill,

And off a blossom in id-air stands still.

 

For this is lobe and nothing else is love,

The which it is reserved for (so) above

To sanctify to what far ends {it} will,

But which it only needs that we fulfill.

-Robert Frost

 

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SIlybum marianum : milk thistle, tonifying liver elixir

 

Fulfill your heart. Your joy. Your mind. Your gratitude. Your curiosity. Your presence. Your soul. This season, all seasons, every season. Take it day by day and see what unfolds. Ever growing and spiraling, weaving new quilts with past threads. Remember to love, explore, breathe, wonder and play. Delight in the beauty and magic that surrounds us. That we’re a part of. It’s all around you. Go out and enjoy it. It’s all waiting for you there.

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*Oxalis stricta : tasty yellow wood sorrel.* .it’s all there.if only you look*

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dainty woodland Puschkinia scilloides : striped squill, hiding in the forest underleaf as springtime gems…

Who made the day?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die, at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

~The Summer Day, Mary Oliver

 

~❦*A-S
03.20.2020

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Narcissus pseudonarcissus : Daffodil

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We hope to see you in the Garden!

::.*~> emersoncentral.com/ebook/nature.pdf <3*.::}
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