I spotted one.

It was alone and fluttering in the zinnia bed, this traveler seemed rather slow, and looked a bit bedraggled. Perhaps it had traveled far on its journey North, to plant the seed for the next generation. It was, as you may have guessed, a Monarch.

This particular traveler brought me a ray of hope, offering the possibility that she or he heralded the arrival of many more to come, soon. The band of travelers that will bring the needed effusion of hope in times of change, and remind us all so powerfully, of the miracle of life, and rebirth, of the power of perseverence, hope and determination, and the power to fly free on a journey to parts unknown for a larger purpose. The symbol of this traveler runs deep in our spiritual lexicon. I look out for it.

As I understand the process, the Monarch leaves Mexico in early Spring and heads north. These emissaries have already lived 8-9 months to make this venture. After they travel north, they lay the first eggs for this round of the summer generations who will travel north. The ones that make it my door are apparently the fourth (or fifth?) grandchildren of the ones that left here last Fall, and left Mexico this Spring. Apparently, the last hatch of the summer have special powers: In addition to knowing, somehow, to fly south, they live longer, 8-9 months (not 2-4 weeks), their wingspan is bigger to help them manage the challenges of the flight, and survive against all odds, and I think they have a deeper orange color. This last generation has a special name ~ The Super Generation

I have images from Last Fall of their epic numbers when the caterpillar count was so large that many stands of milkweed were reduced to stalks in fields. And oh, the monarchs that emerged from the chrysali. Oh their wings, that glowed so brilliantly orange, so proudly shining, and ready to meet the challenges ahead of the long miles.

That was last year.

Where are they now? Will they still come? Will they have time to mate, lay the eggs for that special generation, grow fast and then emerge from chrysalis as butterflies? I hope so. Perhaps they know something I don't. Perhaps it has been too hot, dry or.. something.

I hope, the super generation emerges someplace, and once more flies free in great abundance.

In solidarity with the Monarch, and their ability to survive against all odds, and in hope for their future survival. I will leave the milkweed in my garden. I will, like them, listen to my calling and fly in integrity on my path believing in the impossible in the midst of great winds of change, despite obstacles and the distance needed to travel to my homeland. I will, despite the trials, glory in the flight and glow in the light as best I can, believing that my small effort and the efforts of a few will make a difference. Will make The difference for the future generations to come.

I will hold solidarity, belief and hope in their eternal symbol of joy, transformation, and freedom.

It has been hot this summer. Perhaps they know something I don't. Perhaps they know that more auspicious conditions will arrive soon; and perhaps those conditions will be the perfect ones to help co-create the generation needed to meet the tests and challenges ahead. I pray for this to be true.

Aho, and Bless you Spirit of Monarch.

~ Also, I want to let you know that the website will not alert you of posts added to the Venus page. For your convenience, I add the link here to that page is https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/ ~

August brings transitions. My nose can smell Autumn in the air. It may be something the leaves give off, and the gentle winds carry it to me. How ever it arrives, it signals a time to slow down. I move from the super productivity drive of June and early July, into Supreme Molasses Mode. 

I do not flow as fast, motivate as fast, nor rise to any need as fast. I feel ready to sit, ready to watch sunsets, ready to wonder at the growing insect population and ready to read. Even if there are many things still on my do list, as there are, or many things one might DO in the present moment, I find little inkling to do them.

My garden's aesthetic does, as a result, suffer ~ weeds grow faster than a caterpillar eats. Snails make patterns in my collards that I try to read like tea leaves. I don't mind though; unless it truly matters, I just move my chair over, and give the growing plants the space they desireto thrive in the hot sun. 

It is also, alas, the end of harvesting of some of my favorite desserts ~ wild raspberries! They become a rare treat now. I did just spy one this morning which melted in my mouth into divine elixir. Ahhhh.

The focus of my daily herb gathering also shifts: Elderflowers finished long ago, the St john'swort produces only a few flowers that I leave for the bees' dining, and most yarrow plants are starting to turn brown after the successful flowering season winds down. Well, I remind myself, there Are other gifts to enjoy; no need to gaze wistfully at the passing of the seasons ~ Such a human trait to resist change, and resist adjusting to the new bounty that the present moment offers; and instead to get stuck in a groove of past patterning, so well rutted that it we find it difficult to move with the abundant now. Well, I acknowledge the gifts of the past, and remind myself of the present ~ After all, calendula is just coming into stride, sunflowers, boneset and blue vervain also rise bountifully above the fray of weeds. 

Even in my slower pace, I do have a moment of worry. What if I didn't collect enough for my medicine chest? Do I have enough for the needs of winter chills and colds alike? I ask. myself that every year.... Genetic fears die hard, and resulting panic can momentarily overcome even the deepest of August's inertia.

As I write, trying to describe this August pace, I wondered about possible synonyms for the slowness I feel. My search resulted in words that offer only negative connotations- "laziness," "indolence," "apathy," even "decreased mental acuity." 

Of course, a culture that does not reward its members for pausing, or resting or getting adequate sleep, of course it does not applaud slowing down to the pace of August. It would not acknowledge the rewards of pausing when gardens can tend for themselves, winds slow to a quiet touch, insects drone one to drowsiness and heat requires welcome siestas.

I want a language that celebrates this time, that celebrates rest, and renewal and rebirth. I want language that opens to the possibilities inherent in pausing and listening and inherent in unwinding and relaxing. Language that celebrates bounty and beauty with slow appreciation. What new words can I give to this pace? How about the pace of fecundity? The flow of an eddy, the current of snail? How about the breath of rest, the smile of appreciation? How about deep rest?

That is the natural pace of my August, watching, listening and wondering.
Oh, right, I have some harvesting I ought to do... I will get to it eventually
Perhaps when the eddy circles back around toward that goal. For now, I want to rest a little more. How are you feeling this August? Are there new words you can ascribe to your senses and the receiving of the bounteous now? I would love to hear.

Hot sun
Cool mornings,
Still air
Expansive skies.
Green light
Hurricanes
Sudden shifts

Cricket nights.
Night air,
Moving sounds
Vibrating air
Rhythmic beats,
of cycles, insects and time.

Those snippets describe my August. The breezes rise and fall. The stillness slows me, to a pause, to notice longer and listen deeper. Pause. Wonder, Pause, listen. Pause again. The occasional thickness in the air causes me to question, stumble into my shadow and doubt, and then, oh so easily, crumble.

Then, just as quickly the mood shifts. The gentle breeze rustles the leaves; the living moving air lifts my spirits, the passing shadow of a cloud transforms into a reminder of companionship and cooling comfort. The shining stars and planets remind me of, and reflect my light.

~Hot days and cricket nights~
~Quiet motion
~Rustling leaves
~Conversations on gentle breezes
~Motions slow to the pace of my heart.
~Believing in gentleness and love
~on the currents of the whispering wind.
~Reminding me of the truth of oneness,
~reflected in the lens of Nature's All.

I breathe, pause, listen and flow with the pace of my heart, once more

Predawn off Boston Harbor, seen by a friend.

I was all set and ready to post another blog about July winds, especially since the last post was all about water, when the astrological posts alerted me to a new comet that can be seen now, in the Northern Sky. Ahh, timely cosmic gifts in times of such transition, we are finishing an eclipse season, retrogrades are ending, portals are opening, and now a new visitor to add ice-cream to the table of delights!

We can view this beautiful visitor about an hour after sunset from now until July 22. It was recently a predawn visitor, until it disappeared behind the sun. It survived that close encounter with the sun and now passes on to other vistas, universes, and adventures. Not all comets do survive this passage behind the sun. I remember one that never emerged on the other side... Well, we are blessed this time with success

Pam Younghans reports that during the passing of a comet, flashes of insight can come quickly. One must write it down quickly, or it may leave just as quickly. So the following is my muse from this morning flashes of intuition. I encourage all to listen to this wise guest.

~A sparkling showering tail delivers cosmic essence to all ki passes. Offering tales and stories and insights from other worlds and universes. Describing harrowing adventures like ones of swinging around tight orbits of great suns and surviving the fire. How like a troubadour of ages past does this sound, when such visitors would enter a new village, bringing songs of inspiration and experience to those who would listen. Leaving many blessed behind on her path to the next door. How, to those listening, her passage, her gifts and essence must have felt like new life itself.

When a minstrel arrived from parts unknown, their stories, ways of life, and appearance may have been embraced fondly or disdained and scorned. Regardless of the type of welcome, these troubadours left the places they visited changed. Their tales emerged from their very being, from the alchemy of their essence, and continued on, even after they left to "other worlds."

The message changed the listener, and each listener heard a different message. So too with this cosmic messenger, it will disseminate cosmic dust to all with various experiences and various news. The news may be welcome, or threatening, shifting foundations. However it is experienced, the new perspectives may help the listener approach their lives with newness~ new insight, new wisdom and new life.

I had a strange thought as I write, if we exist as distinct from the universal, only as we engage in relation to other, does a comet exist when not in relationship to a planet? OH! Now, I catch my earth-centric-ness. How many planets this comet has to embrace and grace on the path ahead!!!! Ahh, again, like a troubadour, leaving behind one village, only to know there will be other villages, other worlds somewhere, someplace ahead in which to shine and sing. Lovely, shine on, cosmic visitor, I sit entranced to hear your song.

I end with this poem~
Dear friends,
A gift
for you, for me.
Sparkling essence
from my eternal source of being,
Served to spread and land as it will
The essence unchanged
the cosmic trail a gift in time
That sprouts for all,
A newness in you a newness in me.

.~.

Also the Venus muse is still functioning as a place in which I explore values and transformation. As Venus soon leaves her retrograde shadow, I will continue on it with only a slightly different focus. Blessings to all of you https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/

Thunder sounds 'crickety' off in the distance; I see those thunder heads rising in the East. The western sky holds blue spaces still, allowing for the sun to peak through and shine a luminous glow on the tops of the trees that encircle my garden. These thunder heads are very welcome to me today, offering a sign of hope ~ the rain they may bring would be a needed relief, refreshing the dry dusty air, cleaning the dust that has settled too long on my heart. I feel this dust everywhere ~ on my heart, my mind and skin, slowing the flow of all my processes ~ slowing the flow of emotions, communication, connections and more.

Oh do come rain, you are so welcome here, I will dance and sing for you; please clear the air of all this stress. Please clear the waterways to aid us all find the ways back to communicate from our hearts. Please clear the path to our watery souls that we may hear the whispers ever so much clearer. What direction, what truth is the path to love, what answer is the path of justice, where is the path to wholeness?- Wholeness as an individual and as a community.

This rain that may come, how it may pour and pour, to help relieve the clogged arteries. And it may feel overwhelming, frightening at first... Then it will feel so welcome and clear. Our skins will all be connected by moisture in that moment of a wholey drenched atmosphere. A sense of unity will truly lift my heart in joy. Even now, during this strange moment in time, a connection to the whole of the planet, may not be so distant....

The grumbling overhead is turning into the sounds of bowling balls now, rolling in the sky. I sure do hope the storm arrives; a good soak would feel just right about now. And The trees have been whispering about it secretively all day!

They always know, but truthfully, recently, these thunderheads have amounted to only sound and hot air, without the blessed release of water. Maybe that is why the winds only spoke in whispers today. They spoke quietly in order not to tell the opposition of the imminent arrival of the grace, of water herself.

Now, such a clearing of air and mind, one that helps all breathe more easily and relaxedly, might overwhelm us at first, leaving us with sense of loss of control. Yet, I welcome it. Whatever may be left on the planet after such clearing and tumult, after such a thorough rinsing will have endured a true test, showing itself to be enduring and stable. I want for the true and real to unveil itself at last. I read once that hope is not belief in something far in the distance, but belief that there is something good right here, right now, already present in this moment moment.

Healing rain, oh, do come. Do bring your grace to this earth, your ability to weave the sky and the earth together into alchemical harmony; bring your abundance to fill her river ways with your laughing flow. Please, do bring the release of strife that this world so needs. Help us to flow and cry and laugh and breath once more.

Water~

There are many things that I can not smell. I know this is true for when my cat lifts his beautiful black nose to the unseen and unsensed wafts of scent that drift by, I smell nothing; I can only admire and trust some passing tale has informed his senses of its import. Oh, the stories the wind does tell....

Yet, there is One thing I Can smell. It is something that brings me so much joy, and refreshment. It cleanses my cells, lifts my weariness and brings me food for my soul ~ That is the scent of precious water.

I can smell this ambrosia in the wind when rain rides near, I can smell the gift as ki rises from the earth on the warming days. I can smell pure essence on my skin, towel, and hair after a refreshing dip in the swimming hole. Oh, I love it so. My lungs draw it in, inhaling deeply, drinking it like a food that nourishes some forgotten need, like a scent meant for my soul. Like medicine itself, I wonder if there could ever be too much. Perhaps there are indeed some things one never has too much of - a sense of presence, love, and the wind carrying the smell of water. There is a word it reminds me of~ amarita, meaning nectar of immortality. Perhaps it reminds me of primordial days living in moss. Perhaps my cells remember that lush environment.

In some cultures, water is seen as representative of the divine, embodying the watery soul herself. The other day, when I was on the river, the wind was dancing off the surface, agitating it enough to bring her moisture up to mingle with the air. AHH, delicious and smiling, I filled my lungs and started singing.

This moist wind also brought other admirers ~ swallows, who found that the wind kicked up plenty of reasons to dip, sway and rise in the unseen rhythms and tides of the wind. I think, when I started singing, their acrobatics became more illustrious, adding more dips and twirls to their repertoire. Perhaps they dancing to my song.

I also wonder, if the smell of water changes its energy as a reflection of the energy it encounters, in the same way water crystals freeze to different shapes based on the energy of the watcher- (See Emoto's studies of frozen water crystals) If so, then laughing with the water, singing songs of gratitude to the wind that brings the moisture, smiling in the sun that warms her and breathing presence on the earth that holds the water must surely enhance the energy and qualities precious moist air carries, making it indeed everlasting food for the soul.

Ahh, I smell it now, as I write. Precious presence of water, I thank you

Surprise Solstice gifts

My cat wakes me early, hoping I will join the day with the rising Sun.
I like the idea..
Sometimes

Today, I agreed, as today is a beginning of everything.
It is the first Full day of Summer, and as Solstice was less than 24 hours ago, I like to believe it is still Solstice, as the Sun continues to linger high in the sky a day or two longer, before her descent to winter light. As we meandered outside to the garden, before the heat met arrived, I kept finding strange webs crossing my path.

Looking more closely, I saw that each filament contained hundreds of baby spiders. Today is spider hatching day!!! Tiny, tiny spiders trailed on the delicate gossamer paths across my garden greens. Creating new stories, new paths, new possibilities

Infinite possibilities in that blessing on the first day of summer, creating new for all in this creation. Thank you, dear creation for providing such a beautiful morning surprise. (As some people with arachnophobia have intense reactions to pictures of spiders, I did not include these pictures.)

Blessings to all of you and all the World in our passage to new stories.

~Blessed Solstice to you all~

?⭐️☀️?

I never dreamt my next blog piece would be about bindweed. Yet, here is what happened:
The very next day after the last post about Glorious Weeds, I happened to open a book on medicinal plants and folk lore. I let the book open randomly; it opened to bindweed.

AHA! Surely, Spirit wants me to find the answer to the mystery!!

What it had to say intrigues me. So I share. Bindweed is used as a laxative and for gall bladder complaints. Mmm.... Well, as I take my curriculum from my garden and environment, I wondered, how am I needing a laxative? How am I bilious? If Bindweed helps to release unneeded toxins, perhaps my unwanted burden is outdated belief systems, patterns, dogmas, self-sabotaging behaviors, self-doubt, fear of the very things my heart says yes to... self-quarantining. Those are all things that get in the way of my ease, my health and sense of well-being.

Yet, my dogmas are buried deep, entrenched so to speak. "Dismantling" them may take time and patience. How, I ask myself am I holding on tight to patterns and ways of thinking? Thinking that I am right? Where do I accept belief systems that are merely undigested dogma and detritus that I am ready to expel? Another question that comes to mind~ Where, in my life, do I unconsciously accept a "norm" that clashes with the voice of my heart?

These are my internal questions these days. These are the questions bindweed is inspiring. These are not answerable today, but since finding that page on bindweed, I am lovingly disentangling it from my other beneficials and listening. Listening deeply and praying to release unwanted and unneeded. Places where I separate myself from any other being creates division that cuts both ways. Today, I listen

Ram Das says so eloquently a question I ask myself again

"Behind the Two is the one,
Will you rest in the two? or will you rest in the one?
Will you complete the circle?
And move from the two into the one
And Then
Dance in the two?
Will you enjoy the dance, the play of the two, of the yin and yang?
Can you enjoy it all?"

I am grateful for this lesson. Perhaps, it will help me connect, yet not suffocate, weave, not bind. engage, not isolate.

Many people know that I love weeds. I admire their resilience and beauty. In complete honesty, there are a few that I resist ~ Bind weed, creeping Charlie.. Nonetheless, I still find them beautiful. Usually, if a weed graces my life, I welcome it, bless where it planted itself and ask, "what lesson do you have for me to learn?"

They seem to know this interest I have in them, or at least, I believe it so, because I will get large groups (hordes?) of a species that spontaneously move into my garden, make themselves at home, intent that I receive their gift. (I wonder what the lesson of that invasive Bindweed could be... I admit, I am slow with that one.)

A few years ago, the guest of the summer was Blue Vervain. Oh my, not one corner of my garden was without that hardy representative. I do make room for any emissary, but I admit I found it very hard to find places to plant the zucchini and onions that really don't love competition.

This summer, the friends that have come in with gusto and en masse with every intention of staying for the long term are some ancient allies, allies of such benefit to me and all of medicine. The ones gracing my garden in bounty this year are ~ Nettles, Dandelion and Mullein. Ahh what medicine they bring~ I revere them. I use them for food, medicine, balms, and teas.

I always leave room for these plants as I love their energy, beauty and medicine. Last year, when I attempted my annual Autumnal search for dandelion roots for the winter storage, I found so few, that I worried that would not have enough for my teas~I had eaten most of them through the summer! I am so grateful that somehow, from some source, they returned this Spring in great quantities.

Then I noticed an interesting phenomenon. They planted themselves in greater quantities everywhere. The community boasts fields of yellow and green. Mmm, a sign for everyone in the community? I wonder. Last year, the most common weed I noted was mullein ~ an herb for the lungs and for grief... Certainly, something that has been beneficial this winter.

So what might Dandelion's intention be this year, for this community? Building our inner strength? Deep roots? I will listen to them with an open heart, to hear their intention. I may not know the answers ever, or for many months to come; Still I do and will love their presence.

Weeds are considered weeds, according to some maxim I've heard, "because they have benefits as of yet unknown." I would add to this maxim that they are considered weeds, because they are strong, resilient, pervasive and unapologetic. Perhaps those are important qualities for me to emulate this year.

Well, for now, I will smile at these friends and their beautiful rising stems, love and admire their graceful happy yellow blooms and wait to take in all they give to me, my teas, and the community this season. I may know more clearly how to express their wisdom come Fall

Happy weeding to all of you

Violets are abloom in my garden. The showy flower emerges above the tops of the green edible leaves. These beautiful blooms are considered "Non productive," as they are not used for seed production. Perhaps the purpose, if that word is needed to be assigned to anything, is to bring beauty to ease our souls after the long winter and cold Spring. I like to think though that it is for Beauty sake alone~ Something of such beauty just for the sake of beauty.

I drank a cup of tea today with a tea bag that quoted E Dickinson~
"Beauty is not caused, it is."

That is how I feel. No need to explain or understand a WHY of love. It just is.

To read more musings not posted to this page, visit Venus Muse page
Here is the link https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/
Thank you for all of your support