May it burst into full blossom
and remind us of the joy inherent
in life, relationships
and in sharing time with each other.
May it draw up the richness of the earth
may it always have what it needs
may it be soaked with sweet rainfall
nourished by that which has gone before
and become an intricate part of the ecosystem
both taking in and giving out
receiving and giving
and being nourished.
May it remind us of the woman
in whose memory we plant it.
A woman who was just as beautiful
as these flowers.
Who stood firmly on the earth
under this same blue sky.
A woman who grew,
who lived well
who shared and tended
and who blossomed fully
in a life that brightened
the world around her.
May it be so blessed
may she be so blessed
may it be so.
Wisdom from the green earth
strength from deep, dark places
blessings of the bright sky
and a grateful breath
upon them both.
Today is May Day/Beltane and my mom came home with two blue hydrangea plants that she bought for us to plant on Mother’s Day as memorial plants for my grandma. I’m still in this place of depletion and overwhelm, compounded by the need to plan a major trip to California during this month—lots of reservations to arrange and details to figure out. But, I went ahead and toted my hydrangea down to the woods for a little while and offered it, and my grandma, the blessing above. I also spied some very pretty violets growing in the “weeds” near the house and I admired the lovely, storm-full-feeling clouds. I found a pretty rock with a vein of crystal in it that I’ve admired several times before, but left in its place in the woods. However, today I felt like it wanted to come back with me and have a new home by the hydrangea when we plant it.
As I’ve noted before, I remain amazed by the neverending capacity to notice something new in this same little section of forest. And, I also delight in the relationship with the space that I have formed there, so that my attention is precisely captured by those new things. See this tree?
Kind of far away, right? But, as I sat there talking into my recorder about hydrangeas, my attention was caught by something different at the fork of the trunk. It was kind of blobby line/bump and I thought: is that a skink with a missing tail? I walked down to look closer and sure enough, I had a new companion in the woodspace today: