The Longest Day…

“As the sun spirals its longest dance,
Cleanse us…
As Nature shows bounty and fertility,
Bless us…
Let all things live with loving intent
And fulfill their truest destiny” - Wiccan blessing for Summer


The Summer Solstice arrives today here in the Northern Hemisphere. The sun has reached it apex and the earth is at her height of growth.
The year also reaches midpoint…where have the days gone?
Here in the hills, the celebrated sun is playing hide and seek behind opaque clouds that drift in and lower the temperature to a Fall-like 68 degrees. The brightness comes from whistling goldfinches and sweetly scented lemon lilies, until the sun’s rays finally break through and we all let out a collective sigh of appreciation.
Peoples around the world have observed this potent day for millennia. Native Americans created many astrological sites across the Americas to chart the path of the sun and mark this ceremonial day. Many of us think of the stone circles of Stonehenge and Avebury and the Solstice ceremonies still observed there today.
One of the most enduring ties with these ancient rites was the Druid’s celebration of the day as the “wedding of Heaven and Earth”. This is possibly responsible for our modern notion of “lucky” June weddings. Another interesting notion that was carried over, involves the fermented honey “mead” that was imbibed to celebrate wedding ceremonies during the solstice. Because of the height of the bees’ honey production in June (that produced this euphoric drink) the Full moon of June was known as the Honey Moon… Starting to sound familiar?
Bonfires and dancing and leaping through the flames with one’s beloved were common across Europe on this night, the night also made famous by Shakespeare in his enchanting Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the East the ancient Chinese marked the day by honoring Li, the Goddess of Light. So many stories and rituals take place on this day, many are shared in the classic work by Sir James Fraser called The Golden Bough. It was a pioneering study of magic and religion, folklore and folkways by this distinguished Scottish anthropologist of the late 19th C. I highly recommend skimming it for a fun summer read. For interesting information and great illustrations of early cosmological sites around the world check out Early Man and the Cosmos by Evan Hadingham.

However you decide to celebrate this extended day and enchanted evening, may it surpass your expectations!

Green Living

Even here in the Green Mountains of Southern Vermont the heat index is breaking records as the entire East Coast sizzles.
Over the weekend, just ahead of the wilting weather,locals and out-of-staters gathered to celebrate the arts and sustainable energy,agriculture and the dairy industry in Brattleboro.
Sound a bit dull? Not in the Republic of Vermont, where petitions were signed to impeach Bush and Cheney and every other person it seems is an artist, writer, musician or political activist, as well as organic farmer.
Pamplona, Spain may have her “Running of the Bulls” but Brattleboro and the surrounding area has her more demure “Strolling of the Heifers”!
Streets were lined with the diverse populations that make up this unique community.
Young and old held on to black and white spotted balloons suggesting a bobbing herd of helium filled Holsteins ,as a soulful New Orleans style brass band set the stage.
Theatrical skits spoofing the highly contested nuclear plant entertained, as did unicyclists against GMOS in food production and kids carrying long paper worms promoting composting…
At last, the first band of young doe-eyed calves draped in flower garlands and gently led by their also very young owners rounded the corner closely followed by the heifers, resplendent in flowers as well, who sauntered Main Street to soft applause as not to panic the gentle beasts. Natural accidents did happen, as some stage fright occurred, to the delight of giggling little boys. Attendants dressed as black and white cows or Super Heroes quickly scooped and sprinkled sawdust to keep things moving. Behind them the high school band played “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” with a ra-ra beat and cowbell percussion.
Cute…but not too… as right behind, whirling and spinning like a dervish, was a giant evil faced puppet made entirely of plastic grocery/shopping bags. It reminded me a bit of Nigerian Egungun masquerades where a spiritual whirlwind cleanses the village of evil influence. Would but all those plastic bags disappear worldwide…
Here on this red bricked, old-fashioned Main Street, progressive and traditional ideas coincided comfortably, as quality of life and responsible choices were expressed by newcomers and old-timers alike. Hope for the future was doled out with the locally made ice cream served at the Dairy-Fest, as we felt inspired and remotivated to do our parts to insure a sustainable future for our region and the planet.
Do what you can today, wherever you are, to make a difference for us all… And stay cool…

Rites of Spring : May Bears

This has been a quirky Spring to say the least. I have noted the arrival of hummingbirds, and scarlet tanagers. I’ve wondered over the fate of four pairs of rose-breasted grosbeaks that have yet to join the two pairs in residence. My flock of canary yellow goldfinches is down to five from the thirty-five usually summering with me.Stormy weather all over the US could have played a role in this...
I have waited and watched, but the visitors that I missed most of all were the black bears that usually appear by mid-May.
I have had up to four at a time in my backyard, but it always varies. Last year I had one handsome male that I named Silus, for his silent comings and goings. He spent every afternoon for a couple of weeks here, rolling in the grass and of course munching on the sunflower seeds put out for the birds. I got to the point where I could converse with him softly from the deck and he’d just sit there and listen, then slowly stand and shyly head off into the woods. But just when I had started to give up on bear visits this year, I noticed both cats were acting oddly. They seemed to be picking up a scent that I couldn’t.
I pulled them back inside and was on the phone when I glanced out the window and to my delight there was a beautiful Mama bear and two tiny cubs about the size of cocker spaniels. Last year's Silus was a one-year-old male and maybe 75 pounds but this female was much bigger. She helped herself to the wire birdfeeder but just emptied out the contents and deftly used those big paws and claws to rifle through the grass and pick up seeds. The little ones tumbled around her playing in the afternoon sun as she snacked. This bear has a distinctive cinnamon circle on her right flank; the rest of her is shiny black, except her nose, which is also a cinnamon brown. I think I’ll call her Domino.
It is quite windy today. The lilacs are in full flower and perfuming the air, fragrant narcissi are still blooming and adding their distinctive aroma to the mix. The large rhododendron is just opening her magenta blossoms and is literally abuzz with bees and hummingbirds. All of a sudden Domino stood up and sniffed the wind in this direction, where most of the flowers are. As she did this, the precious little cubs scooted into the woods and quickly climbed up a tree. I was taking pictures through the window glass and trying not to be seen, as surely they would all bolt.
Domino came right up on the deck and pressed her nose against the glass of the sliding door and looked in, three feet away from me. Of course I missed that shot, as I stepped back behind the curtain for undetected observation. She sniffed at the furniture and birdbath and slowly, carefully moved around not disturbing a thing. The cubs began calling her and come running toward the deck. She gracefully moved down the three steps and led them around it and they all slip back into the woods as quietly as they came.
I have had other mother bears with cubs on my deck in the 15 years I’ve lived here and never have they disturbed anything on it. The birdfeeders were taken hostage quite a few times however, sometimes in the same day. And I really had a battle of wits with a male years ago as he would sneak in all times of the day,grab the feeder and abscond with it.I managed to play keep away and was quite pleased with myself. The next morning I opened the front door and stepped into a pile of scat left on the doormat, nothing else touched, everything neat and orderly... but I got the message! I had to laugh at him pointedly choosing that spot and getting me good!
I am so pleased to have had this traditional visit and hope I’ll have a few more before they head deeper into the woods. Now this crazy season seems a little more on track…
I have a deep and special affection for these shy creatures and wish them a long and healthy life. For your amusement I’m posting a great shot of Silus from last year and today’s Domino and her cubs, shot through the kitchen window and the flowering lilac outside it.

May you have pleasant encounters with whatever “bears” cross your path today!

Buddha’s Birthday

The full moon of May that occurs tonight in the Himalayas and tomorrow night here in the West is known as Buddha Purnima, the Buddha’s Birthday, and is celebrated by many Theravada Buddhists and Hindus at this time. The Tibetans will observe this auspicious occasion at the full moon next month.
I had the pleasure of attending the prayers and festivities for Buddha Purnima years ago at Swayambunath, the iconic stupa with the all seeing eyes of Buddha finely painted on pure gold, that represents Kathmandu and Nepal in the minds of many.
High atop a dusty hill, west of this ancient city, and reached by a very steep flagstone stairway, pilgrims stoically ascend through mists and smoke in a tiny woods populated by a tribe of very charismatic monkeys, ever alert and very well fed by passers-by. More than a dozen small stupas painted white, Tibetan prayer stones etched with powerful incantations, and orange robed seated Buddhas are scattered about the grounds. They provide an excellent excuse to stop and linger and catch your breath as yet two more wizened grandmothers pass easily ahead and up the steep incline.
On reaching the main platform crowds of people, sweet smoky incense, garlands of orange marigolds and millions of tiny oil lamps mingle as Tibetan prayer flags snap in the breeze. Everyone falls into a loosely formed line to circumambulate the main stupa going in a clock-wise direction and spinning large prayer wheels that line the base at shoulder height. Music plays, women draped in shawls and gossamer skirts barely missing the tiny tongues of fire everywhere, chant their prayers and stop to light more candles for requested blessings. Every human sense is stimulated, old friends excitedly greet each other, hands folded, Namaste softly spoken… It is a lovely Birthday party,and surely enjoyed by all.
I sit many years and a world away from the dusty knoll of Swayambu in my lush green hills of New England. A strong wind is roiling through the sea of electric green leaves. Trees moan and creak as they sway from the next forceful wave. The rhythm of the rustling leaves makes me momentarily forget that I am landlocked, until a brilliant scarlet tanager startles my eyes and quickly disappears into the tender,leafy,surf.

May you and yours find many blessings and personal illumination on this auspicious night!

A Mother's Gifts

Here in the US, we recently celebrated our annual Mother’s Day. It is a time of mixed emotions for many people. Some gamely put aside on-going personality conflicts to select an appropriate card or gift in hopes of evoking the ideal in this most complex and deeply felt connection. Others will make a phone call that never seems to come often enough for the receiver. Most mothers would just love a little time with their very busy children. Time is what few of us have anymore…
My own dear mother passed away nine years ago. And any experienced personality challenges have sweetly softened to memories of the gifts that only she could have given me.
For Mother showed me how to see with an artist’s eye. To carefully look at nature and catch the subtle nuance in the slant of an old tree that expresses its personality, to read stories in delicate patterns of shadows on the wall, to see faces of cupids or imps on the knees of otherwise ordinary folk, and as I matured in awareness to notice how these faces reflected some character traits of their owners! (Try this the next time you are at the beach!)
She made fairy goblets out of gum wrapper foil and created charming “secrets” for me to find. These fanciful creations were shallow holes filled with arrangements of tiny flowers, stones, berries or seeds under a piece of appropriately sized glass that made a little window. The dampness of the earth kept these natural tableaus fresh for a week and I truly delighted in them.
Mothers in traditional cultures around the world made wonderful textiles and carrying cloths embroidered or appliquéd with auspicious or protective signs to protect their precious newborns and young toddlers from disease and misfortune. The Miao in China and SE Asia as well as most of the “minority groups” of these regions make exquisite baby carriers that are rarely sold. When they do, they usually remove the carrying straps or other parts
In Kohistan, in N. Pakistan, mothers sew coins for prosperity, mother of pearl buttons to deflect evil and sun symbols and trees for strength and long lives. Little girls are given exquisite hats and little boys receive sleeveless jackets gaily embellished with metal safety pins and Western style zippers. Each one is as unique as the woman who makes it and the child who receives it.

What was the gift your mother gave you that could have come from no one else?!

Spring Songs ...

After days of raw, and cool weather, the sun has graced us once again.
Now warblers are joined by Rose-breasted Grosbeaks and the bright green woods echo with birdsong. Early this morning I heard the first dulcet tones that I eagerly await all winter to hear. A male Wood Thrush is practicing the first notes of the season. In a few days the full repertoire will performed and I will be aurally transported to heaven… at early morning and early evening until late August.
The little hummingbirds haven’t arrived, though last night, a raccoon helped himself to the nectar I have had waiting. The daffodils are just starting to bud at this point, so not much in the floral department, to offer the hummers after their long trip North,especially in the stormy weeks just past.
Other Spring songs are in the air besides the birds however. A large group of friends ventured out into the rain and fog from diverse locales to celebrate a significant birthday in a remote area of the Berkshires. A delightful rustic barn with fire roaring dramatically in a large stone fireplace provided the perfect antidote to the bone-chilling damp. And fellow travelers were treated to hearty food and soulful songs from our birthday minstrel.
By midnight, in the flickering light, kids tucked into bed, we adults joined in with the band to raise our voices… singing songs of our youth and laughingly botching the lyrics, once so profound, that somehow our middle-aged brains had forgotten!
Ah, Spring! Ah,youth…!
May you find something to make your heart sing today… in tune and with the all the right lyrics!

April Showers

After a long spate of unseasonable, gloriously sunny and hot weather, the hills are green again. Unfortunately so was everything else, as yellow-green pollen dusted our world and wafted though our open windows. There had been no rain to speak of this entire month,that is rapidly coming to a close.

The short lived vernal pools that provide an essential but “fleeting” nursery for wood frogs and salamanders were dangerously dry, after being deep in snow earlier in the season. The Spring peepers and their sneezing human neighbors collectively sent up prayers for just a bit of rain to ease the dryness and the allergies.

Our petitions were heard, as April showers have been falling for two days. I slept like a baby as rain pelted the roof all night long, a rhythm I easily fall into. Now the last of the winter’s wood is burning in the woodstove to lessen the wet chill in the air.
And yet, another passage occurs, as canary-yellow goldfinches and the first rose-breasted grosbeaks appear at the feeder and my winter flock of chickadees head back into the woods until the “tourists” leave.They have been such jolly company all winter long!

The woods are alive with frog song and trilling birds as the rain gently falls. I pray the local amphibians will have what they need for this breeding season. Their relations worldwide are in dire straits due to loss of habitat, pesticides, and the rapidly spreading fungus, Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis,known as Bd for short.

Frogs are celebrated by cultures around the world as the "bringers of rain". Traditional shamanic societies in North and South America attributed the calling of the rains and control of the weather to frogs. As the rains fertilized the parched earth and cleansed muddy, stagnant waters, the attributes of abundance, fertility and healing were also given to Frog. Ritual objects made of frogs or in their shapes were used in traditional healing as well, especially illnesses brought about by emotional imbalances.

The wonderful metamorphosis that transforms the little tadpole into a handsome frog delights the child in all of us. And clearly displays the power of transformation that this totem animal is also graced with.

In Mexico, especially in the Guerrero region, metal masks in the shape of frogs were worn during ceremonial rain dances. The one depicted here from my collection, features a ruddy-cheeked spirit whose blue eyes also reflect an affinity to water. This wonderful mask of beaten copper was probably created in the early 20th C. It is charmingly painted with multi-colored spots that resemble those of the dapper leopard frogs that will be leaping through these boggy woods soon.

Long may they leap … all over the world…!

For more information on the art of Mexican mask-making, please see: Mexican Masks by Donald Cordry,University of Texas Press

For more information on vernal pools,please go to www.vernalpool.org

For more on the plight of amphibians see: Defenders (of Wildlife) Magazine, Spring 2008, “Slipping Away” by Sara Shipley Hiles.