The dawn wakes me up at 5 a.m. even though I went to bed after 11. Part of me cries, “No! I’m tired!” I’ve been weary and out of balance since my father died. But then I remember that the morning is my proper habitat. I remember that the dawn is full of magic. So I get up and go outside, and finally set up the screen tent that functions for me in summer as a place of meditation and prayer.
The tent is getting old and faded–this might be the last year before it falls apart. But it is a place I can come to in rain or shine, protected from mosquitos, a little sanctuary. This year I set it up near the fire circle, and enjoy the feeling of that area taking shape as a circle of spirit and connection. On the other side of the fire circle is what will eventually be a pond. The old white pine is nearby. And the hammock.
This place grounds me. I water the vegetables and new plants with water from our rain barrels. I pray for the mulberry tree which is still a stick–but are there tiny green buds just beginning to show? It is our question mark tree–will it come to life or not? I learned from Fedco that mulberries can be late bloomers, so we’ll give it a few more weeks. I go round to bless the blueberry plants–both of them had had damage to one of their two branches the other day–little animals breaking them off? It hurt to cut them off below the break, so that the plant could recover.
I water the asparagus plants–which although planted within a foot of each other, emerged at different times, with different strengths, some tiny and weak, others big and bushy–may these fronds give strength to the roots so that they can return year after year. The other day I transplanted the licorice bush into its spot. I made a little bed with cardboard over the grass, then compost, some coffee chaff, some soil, wood mulch on top. It needs to grow for a few years before we can dig up the roots to use in medicinal teas. I had to think about where to place it, but finally decided on a spot near the sea kale and turkish rocket plants, which are in full bloom right now. I put a little fence around it to protect it from random water hoses or accidental mishaps.
Dear mother earth, dear trees, dear home, bless our human lives. Bless this world with its many troubles. Bless the parents who are being separated from their children, the children being separated from their parents. Bless those who struggle for justice, for dignity, for the water, for the people, for the planet.