Mud season~ A truly amazing moment of alchemy.

Mud appears in a season when the earth melts and runs with the water, as fluid. Mud appears in the sap rising season in Vermont. When the mud begins to rise and heave on the roads, I know the roots are doing the same preparing to send their precious sap up to the treetops for a new year of growth and co-mingling with the sun and air.

Until the moment of mud, there is a ritual that takes place~ a water and earth dancing ritual. The water rises, the frost stills it in statuesque forms. The water rises again and the earth heaves, the water rises again and this time, maybe This time ... the waters will meld with the earth and becomes glorious Squishy, sticky impossibility of mud. Whole cars have been lost in the earth this way. Oh, I have even heard that Mammoths are buried in this mud, but... maybe that is a long tale...

This is slippery soothing healing balm also supports safe passage for amphibians, for root systems to grow into the fallen leaves, for old scars to mend, for the earth to heal from the hardness of winter. I love for the season of mud to last as long as it can, to allow for slow leisurely growth of root systems to settle deep down into the Earth and to allow time for the root systems of trees to explore the wild unknown beyond their parameters.

My own root systems will do the same. I spread slowly and deeply into this Earth first, to feel well supported before spreading out to new terrains. Before seeking the wild unknown before me

Mud also gives the Earth herself the opportunity to spread. She rises to meet the delicate feet of her creatures. The above picture is one imprint of a very large bear that met the waters of the mud one night outside the yurt. This very large bear allowed the earth to spread in between ki's very large toes. (You can just make out the toes next to my fingers.) I like to imagine the bear dances every year on this wet earth celebrating the end of hibernation and beginning of Spring. I heard the bear this night, and the sound, despite the size, was quieter than a hush. Quiet as reverence. Quiet as star light.

In the mud we fine tune the dreams we dreamt in the winter, and it is from the mud they will bloom like lotuses

I embrace the mud, the dreams and wild unknown beyond my parameters, where earth, water and all combine in an ancient ritual of slipping and sliding into the miraculous ineffable Spring.

Wishing you all a wonderful adventure of slipping into your dreams of new life