Sophia Bonnie Wodin

I have been watching as the bloodroot has emerged, blossomed, dropped its petals and began to unfurl its large, blue-green leaves.   All within the space of a week.   Some years I have watched the same process with hepatica, with May flower, trout lily and dog-toothed violet.   Soon I will be watching this cycle with the tiny wild iris that hugs the pond edge and tall, stately Solomon Seal. I’ll watch the trillium and wild, native columbines.   We call them Spring Ephemerals because they come and go with the blink of an eye.   If you don’t keep a watchful eye out you might miss their remarkable display of beauty.   They don’t actually do it for us it is simply their nature to come, to shine, and then to fade into the forest floor.   Or the garden bed, as the case may be. And so it is with us.   We all have our moments when, for no obvious reason that our human minds discern, we suddenly shine.   We shine because, as a legacy from...

“The Earth is our mother We must take care of Her The earth is our mother We must take care of Her Her Sacred ground we walk upon With every step Her Sacred ground we walk upon With every step we take!” Some of us have been singing this chant for 25, 35 or even more years. I don’t remember when I first heard or sang it.   I assumed it came out of a First Nations oral tradition in an attempt to teach the rest of us the importance of paying attention to our Earth. Here’s a quick history lesson…..   Earth Day began in 1970 when the Viet Nam war was slogging onwards and international student-led protest was rising. The first publicized oil spill off of the coast of Santa Barbara, California revealed photos of dead, oil-drenched water birds to a horrified public.   Jimi Hendrix died; the Beetles released their final album.   Our energy was high but our focus had become diffuse when small group of visionary environmentalists seized their opportun...

Spring, the great gushing forth of Life Force, loosened winter’s grip melting the snow and, in amongst the snowdrops and crocuses, we are confronted with the fall chores left undone due to the sudden onslaught of late fall snow.   The neighbor’s bags of last year’s leaves are still sitting by the garden gate; the now ossified dog poop had been safely buried under snow; the heartbreak of broken rose and butterfly bush branches; the collapsed attempt that a mini hoop house; the perennial seed heads that looked so lovely in the early fall.   Looking out from the deck, it seemed like the past was getting in the way of enjoying the present!   What happened to the beauty we expect spring to bring? The beauty of early springtime, like all beauty, often lies hidden among the detritus of life.   We do our personal work in order to step forward in our lives but find that we drag left over issues around after ourselves like so much unpacked baggage from that trip we thou...

Courage says "I can." Compassion says "yes." Courage says "I will." Compassion says "I see you." Courage says "Stand tall. " Compassion spreads her arms wide throws her head back and smiles at the stars. Courage bends and sways in even the strongest of winds. Compassion dances on sweet breezes. Courage says "the next step is possible." Compassion makes it so.