"Everything begins in the dark
the same miracle that splits open the seed's heart,
splits open mine" Excerpt by Elise Stuart
A Pileated woodpecker knocks, knocks knocks on a hollowed tree. This early riser assiduously drills into the nearby tree, a rhythm unique to his liking, and asserting the discovery of excellent habitat full of potential for summer adventures and the raising of young.
The beat repeats throughout the morning, giving me the impression that this bird knows something about Spring's imminent arrival, despite the 6 inches of wet, spring snow that will arrive soon to coat twig and limb with blessings of white magic. This beatboxer is ready for love. Ready to shout out loud for all to hear.
I think I spy him in one of old beaches, lingering near the tippy-tops.
I laugh and inform him that he wins the prize this year, for the First woodpecker to announce the arrival of Spring. I have heard Chickadees calling out a mating song, and, as I wrote elsewhere, once a mourning dove cooing out a tentative trill. This is the first woodpecker.
The rhythm makes me curious to find other signs of Spring awakening in the woods. I want to discover any that may hide under the heavy snow, or at the tree tops. The playful season can come in mysteriously, and I like to see the first signs. Indeed, I found them : The waters are irrepressible now, feeding from deep aquifers, they bubble up mellifluously, gurgling and babbling along under the snow, in these hills. Above me, I can see that the willow has the barest hint of yellow on the swaying branches. Soon the light will turn these branches a golden yellow. And, in some areas, the ice floes are melting, and the rivers opening.
These are the outward signs that the inner fires of Spring awaken, within the Earth, within ourselves. Spring pushes up and out like a green shoot through frozen ground, like our dreams. Nature is beginning to feel the first initial loosening and unfettering of freedom. Asking us to drum up the song of our dreams. The beat of our hearts.
I listened again more closely, to the rhythm of this Pileated, wondering what might the words be that he taps out so diligently. What does he say to me?
These are the words I hear ~
Listen to your heart. There is a music and a beat there, bubbling up like Spring, no matter how grey or dark the day. No matter what storms may come.
Listen to your heart's truths and believe them. No matter how preposterous they may seem, no matter how different they feel from the norm of your day, or how your environment may contradict them.
Listen to the heart and visions of hope ~ the whispers may not be as loud as the storms and tempests that swirl and threaten, still they carry the power of life. They come from the eternal
Transitions of any kind cause disruptions as change moves up and out, like water through the permafrost. This powerful movement may shift the ground on which we stand, let us adapt, flow and grow.
The predicted snow does start falling now, and sticks thickly to each burgeoning bud. The beauty is like magic. Like the season.
In Celtic traditions, tonight starts the celebration of Imbolc which is a seasonal moment of the year, halfway between solstice and equinox. It celebrating the gifts brought with the increasing daylight
One can celebrate with fires, and greenery which reminds us that all around us the earth, the creatures and elements are responding with life. They reflect the inner awakening that unfolds within ourselves.
Some suggestions for celebration ~ light candles, cook with aromatic herbs (rosemary, bay, lavender, sage,) and plant seeds of new intentions for the coming season.
Thank you and so much love