03/20/2026
Happy spring equinox. 🌸 So much joy in my heart for the first day of spring - guiding a walk along Roaring Brook, full with winter's melt.
Here's what we noticed:
Glimmers of emergence in tiny shoots of green, the cluck of a wood frog, birdsong, and interestingly, sensing spring through last year's leaves to the soil, faded acorns, and shriveled red drupes. The burgundy spathes of skunk cabbage, ears to the moss, just now pushing up their leaves.
Listening closely to the water, the conversations made audible through the way it flows around, under and through — rocks, fallen trees, and quick bends. Like a wind instrument, its pitch sounds higher at the narrows and lower where it's wider.
And the air, it too alive today, gently waved the crowns of still-bare trees against the brilliant blue sky, stirred the ghost-like leaves of beech—how it's asking to be known though the trees and the plants, even the way it touches the skin. Invisible and known.
What a glorious morning complete with lines from Mary Oliver:
The dream of my life
Is to lie down by a slow river
And stare at the light in the trees —
To learn something by being nothing
A little while but the rich
Lens of attention.
And in this repeated refrain of nature, we begin again — balanced in cosmic equanimity, refreshed, renewed, alive, and so glad for it. 💚
