As I merge into the afternoon of my well keeping day, I sit in front of an altar of candles, in my den, driven inside by the persistent rain and a slight chill in my bones. My well keeping started when I turned off my computer last night before bed, and glanced up to see the program of my parents' Celebration of Life. Staring me in the face was Wendell Berry’s “The Peace of Wild Things”. Underneath the poem was a picture my mother had painted of one of her favorite still waters places on in New Hampshire.  I had started to feel anxious and had trouble falling to sleep, feeling overwhelmed by the upcoming day - how could I possibly hold our dear Mother Earth in the palm of my hand and make any difference at all?

At midnight, as I awoke realizing that my day had officially begun, I decided to harness my parents to be my spirit guides and reading Wendell’s poem over again, I plucked the program from the wall, to guide my day and knew that I would be okay with them gently nudging me along on my path.

The Peace of Wild Things

By Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake 

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of the wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water

.And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world and I am free.

It feels to me that we are in a time of great peril and this reminder gives me new found hope and clarity of purpose. I am grateful that Joanna, yesterday’s wellkeeper, sent me the reflections she will post and tears ran down my cheeks, knowing I am not alone with this endeavor before me - her words opened my heart so I could see the day ahead as both an honor and a privilege.  I started my day chuckling while I watched chickadees and nuthatches vying for position at the bird feeder, and the first song sparrow, singing with such dignity and voice, over and over “hear me, hear me, where are you my sparrow friends?” I felt like this lone sparrow - embarking on today’s journey. 

Today is my daughter’s birthday, so I walked through the snow to her burial place, with candles lit and prayers in my heart and I found myself singing “Land of the silver birch” honoring not only my daughter and my nephew who are laid to rest in this sacred place and my parents whose ashes are spread, but also the indigenous peoples who presence felt close at hand. My goal is to pay attention, to listen and to learn. 

I plan to bushwhack into our woods into unknown territory with the goal of following the brook that I know ends up in a beautiful waterfall on the far side of our property. I am rewarded as I reach the brook and start across a log bridge to see a bobcat has ventured before me right across this very bridge.

I love knowing that he or she too is out here with us. As I head out, I feel the presence of many spirit guides, not just my family members, but others who have gone before. It sounds so silly, but I feel as if I am like “Forrest Gump” with an entourage of gently caring beings protecting and guiding me as I traipse slowly through these foreign woods, right in my own backyard. Rather early in our adventure, my dog and I have lost the brook climbing over fallen logs and stumbling into marshy depths, as it has meandered into multiple small streams and a large swampy area. But eventually I hear the sweet sound of the brook emerging, as we cross another woodland trail, and it has grown large enough with its gurgling and babbling, that there is no way to lose it now. 

When I finally come to the waterfall, I rejoice and give thanks for this beautiful place and the beauty we have encountered along the way. I sit on a woven mat in the snow with my tea for a long while, sending love and gratitude into the earth.

It is hard to capture the beauty of this place in photographs...

After my meditative lunch at the altar of candles in my den, I ventured out again for an afternoon in the woodlands. 

Many years ago when the kids were young, a school of trout miraculously appeared in a holding pond just below our dam. They must have swum upstream from a neighbor’s  pond about a mile as the crow flies. Curiosity got the best of me today and I decided to see just how long a swim these young fish took to get to our house. I once again bushwhacked along the edge of this different brook. We had no trouble finding it this time as the gurgling sent peaceful vibrations through my entire being. 

Given the windy, curvy,  indirect nature of the brook,  I  am guessing those fish may have swum over two miles to get here. It would have been the neighborly thing to do to catch them and return them to their rightful owner, but alas, we were young and the kids were so excited, we selfishly put them in buckets and poured them into our own pond. Not one of my finer moments…

The natural world replenishes my soul and this empowers me to send soul-full healing energy, positivity and love out into the cosmos. I pray that this energy reaches some of the people or areas that so desperately need it. This evening, in front of the candles burning for these horrific situations and suffering people,  I will be focused on sending this energy forward. I am honored to be a part of this process of tending the wellsprings of the earth.