Week of wild roses


In the morning on the front porch in full white light of the sun I thought about patience and talked to the Mystery a long while. Sorta felt my worries burn off. Drank nettle tea because I had too much oatstraw this week.

I studied Jesus the year I was 30 for a whole year, got into like a deep one on one conversation with him and was steady trying to embody what I was learning by the guidance I felt, this was an important time on my solitary path. The earth song opened up for me, too, within that same year, in the form of Diana and her pantheon, it was the first time an animal other than crow in the wild ever made itself so clearly connected and known a deer came darting straight across a field of several acreage towards me. Almost ran the whole distance it seemed just to run me down, and instead galloped fast past me. All this and the darkness of fuckery of being connived and exploited by the public school system I worked for, it is easy to look back and ignore or gloss over those months of awful hard parts, too.

That was a good and blessed year for my soul.

Also I had a spot out past my forest of a veggie garden and further past the big fire pit, under a tree in a small bit of woods on a spit of eastern shore mudflat that became my power source for a year long study, too.

Maybe it was tending my second year flourish of potted herbs in the high white sun this morning. Week of wild roses on side of road vines. Lavender in full harvest already. I am thinking of what it is to connect to land, like rooted connect.

Other than this family house here amid the Tall Pines, it’s been quite a long time~