Kootenay Clan Mothers

11/10/2025

You have another Mother,
She too, has been with you since birth,
Her presence is all around you,
She is called Mother Earth.

You will feel her in soft rain falling,
And the gentle soothing breeze,
Her warmth is the rays of sunshine,
Her whispers are audible in rustling trees.

She nurtures us with each tiny seed,
She sows, quietly into the ground,
She controls the cycles of each season,
The fruits of her labour, are always to be found.

She quenches thirst through rainclouds,
She is the dew on each blade of grass,
She is the Moon, the stars and each rainbow,
She is the storm that comes to pass.

So cherish her in all her forms,
Respect the gifts that she imparts,
For you have another Mother dear,
Who holds the world within her heart ..

🖋️C.E. Coombes
🎨 Fantasia Art via Etsy

Serendipity Corner 🌿

10/04/2025

09/26/2025

Love this. 💕

08/07/2025

A new study shows that trees function as a "living collective." 🌳💡👏

In a groundbreaking study, scientists have discovered that trees can collectively synchronize their electrical signals in anticipation of a solar eclipse. 🌌🔍

Conducted in Italy’s Dolomites during a partial eclipse in October 2022, the research observed spruce trees exhibiting a remarkable, forest-wide bioelectrical response hours before the eclipse even began. 🌊🌴

Using sensors wired to tree trunks, roots, and branches, researchers recorded the trees’ internal voltage changes—known as bioelectrical potentials—and found a synchronized shift that suggests trees are far more responsive and interconnected than previously understood. 🔌💻

The older trees showed stronger anticipatory responses than younger ones, implying that long-lived trees may retain "ecological memory" and help guide younger trees through rare natural phenomena like eclipses. 🌲📚

Even old tree stumps exhibited subtle activity, hinting they remain partially alive and integrated within the forest network. 🌿🔥

This study, published in Royal Society Open Science, adds to growing evidence that forests behave as complex, cooperative systems—reinforcing the role of mature trees as key to ecosystem resilience and knowledge transfer. 🌟🌿💖

07/28/2025

We were never given laws, not like some.
We were given teachings —
mîyow-iskwêwinan — sacred ways to live.
Gifts from the ones who walked before.

Wrapped in the hide of the bear,
carried on the wings of the eagle,
planted with the roots of sweetgrass and cedar,
and whispered to us through dreams.

They are seven.

And the first is Sîpîy-Love —
kîwîtin-êkota.
Not soft. Not easy.
The kind of love that stays
when the winter is long
and the lodge is quiet.
The love that feeds the hungry
and wraps the children in fur.

Then comes Wîcihitowin — Respect.
To move through the world like the deer —
soft-hoofed, careful.
You speak low to the water,
you nod to the rocks.
You never take without offering first.

Sôhkêyihtamowin — Courage
is the next one.
The bear who rises when the people are in danger.
It’s when your legs shake,
but you still step forward.
It’s the strength to protect the ones who cannot.

Gwayakôhîwin — Honesty
sits by the fire with you.
Quiet.
Not proud.
Like the beaver’s lodge —
you build it strong,
or it will not hold.

Kiskinwahamâtowin — Wisdom
does not shout.
She waits.
Old as the buffalo.
She reminds us:
“Knowing is not enough.
You must live what you know.”

And then comes Ahtisîhîwin — Humility.
Head bowed,
heart open.
It is the small child who teaches the old man.
It is the song of the loon,
never louder than the lake.

And lastly… Tâtruth.
Not a single word —
but the thread that sews them all.
Truth doesn’t walk alone.
It needs love.
It needs courage.
It needs you to carry the whole bundle.

These seven teachings —
these mîyow-iskwêwinan —
they are not for show.
They are not for books.
They are for your breath,
your walk,
your daily prayers.

When you forget — come back to the fire.
When the world is loud — listen to the drum.
When your heart is tired — lean into the circle.

We are still here.
We are still listening.
We still carry them.

Mîna ê-mîyow-iskwêwinan.

—Kanipawit Maskwa
John Gonzalez
Standing Bear Network

07/21/2025

A woman may crave to be near water, or be belly down, her face in the earth, smelling the wild smell.

She might have to drive into the wind.

She may have to plant something, pull things out of the ground or put them into the ground.

She may have to knead and bake, rapt in dough up to her elbows.

She may have to trek into the hills, leaping from rock to rock trying out her voice against the mountain.

She may need hours of starry nights where the stars are like face powder spilt on a black marble floor.

She may feel she will die if she doesn’t dance naked in a thunderstorm, sit in perfect silence, return home ink-stained, paint-stained, tear-stained, moon-stained.

( ✍️ Clarissa Pinkola Estes )

Art : Kendra Hirons