05/02/2026
The Breath of the Sanctuary
On any given day, you will find me barefoot, "putzing" around the yard. I tend to buzz through the garden—one moment raking stray leaves, the next crafting our cobble path. By the end of the day, my hands and feet have usually touched every living thing on the property. My skin is stained with the spring soil; my hair is wild with plant clippings and hitchhiking ladybugs.
The air here is a symphony. The drone of our Blessed beez is distributed over the land like a vibrating prayer. Between the robin’s song and the bluejay’s call, the mourning dove coos—the perfect backup to the choral tones of the songbirds. Nearby, the squirrels dance from branch to fencetop, seeking out the last of the pine nuts from last year’s cones while feasting on the first fresh offerings of spring.
As I work, a small fire breathes nearby. Its drifting smoke cleanses the old church from the outside, draping itself around the brick and glass of our sanctuary. Above, the clouds are lazy but heavy, thick with the potential of rain—a coming gift that will purify and refill the fountains for the birds and the bees.
Across the way, the wild world carries on its ancient business. A tom turkey in the field calls out to his harem, his voice echoing as a hawk circles silently overhead. In the shadows of the trees surrounding Horton Mill Pond, the deer move with purpose, acting out the Great Rite of the season.
I watch the soft green buds pushing away from the vines. Our living fence is one year closer to becoming a true wall. It isn't a wall meant to keep folks out, but one meant to contain the majick we are building here. Our sacred circles, hosted under the light of the full moon, are secreted away behind this living shield—keeping the prying eyes of the outside world off of us and on the road in front of them.
Breathing in the crisp air—washed in the floral, ginger aroma of Mother Magnolia—purges my soul. The rumble of tractor-trailers and the growl of farm equipment become nothing more than shadows hidden outside my consciousness.
Behind the smoke, the vines, and the wild sky... I am finally home.
