All it took was one sultry June day for the cricket song and fireflies to emerge from their dark caves. At first, they chirped faintly from beneath their ferns and grasses; twinkled slowly in the deepening mist. Their arrival of giddy trilling, brough the final instrument for the orchestra of summer sounds.

The concert this year, includes peepers who announce themselves from their ponds, tree frogs who sing up high in exalted perches, bats calling with their high-pitched "skrees,", and trees who whisper summer songs from the canopy.

I have wanted to write these last few weeks many times, to share the little insights and gifts that arrive. Truly I have. During these weeks, I wanted to bring to you the abundance of Spring and Summer flowers that flowed into fullness, to discuss the nettles emerging into harvest, describe the trees draping their leaves luxuriously, to mention how the breezes of each season smell, sound and feel differently, and how their scents shift within the days, to describe the softness of Spring Earth. Or, today, driving home, the magic of light peeks through leaves and clouds in streams or waves of plasma.

All these images I wished to transcribe, yet before I could sit, a new wonder would appear to capture my wonder. My hand could not convey the moving essences with enough alacrity, so abundant and varied were the gifts. Have we, this year experienced the first full flow of Spring? Ushering in a time of magic?

With the heat, the crickets began to sing the ancient call of the wild, bringing me to gratitude and presence. The sweetness of crickets' early arrival fills the air, when it is only just hot enough for them to chime and not yet disappear into the background of sounds. It mingles and hums along with the other chirps of the season. This moving wave of sound reflects the rippling resplendent wave of life that is carried in the breezes of June. Here, and now, the orchestra teases the ear inviting one to slip in between the dimensions where one hears the vast whole, and simultaneously the minute individual. Where one can see beneath the veil in the trees to the hidden light just below vision. Where magic is possible, ands past meets future. Enter into the magic of the breezes, of the sounds and scents, the light, and rain, and the clouds.

Right now, scents drift in through my door on the draughts of timelessness, expanding and contracting with to sounds, expressing the vastness within which we swim. Inviting us all to swim, sense and feel.

Happy Solstice

"The Vastness is bearable only through Love" Anonymous

Spring unfurls in layers of expressive green and astonishing blossoms. The abundant herbs who I collect for teas, thrive well after the generously rainy month. I present a photo montage to demonstrate the unveiling of this Flourishing Spring, illuminating life.

Spring Beauty ~

quiet wood violet ~

trout lily ~

"The dandelion will grow through tarmac, through concrete and I have even seen a Dandelion growing in the vent on a car bonnet!! "
My days collection ~

Painted trillium hiding deep in mysterious woods ~

Some plants grow at speed of sound at times, and multiply with ease. They gather, congregate, share, forgive and grow some more.

A beautiful quote from Danu ~ "The plants that grow on the edges, on the wild side of things, are the toughest and sassiest plants we have. They have tenacity, courage, determination and a “I’ll do it my way” kind of attitude. They cannot be confined, they cannot be erased, they cannot be put down."

The unfurling fiddlehead emerging with grace from deep spidery webs.

May their legacy thrive and multiply.

The lady slipper who's habitat was subject to clear cutting - I spotted this queen a few weeks ago, robustly returning after resting in the soil to wait for better times. These are better times.

one week later ~

Flowers in the sky ~

Blessings for your late Spring and early summer. May you find the medicine from the earth, and reciprocate with gratitude. "Flourishing is mutual."

Wee gentle night sprites have landed in their summer homes. I can hear them rustling at the very tippy tops of the trees. Their whispers become especially clear, when I linger outside between dusk and dark. One night, while enjoying the crepuscular light, I heard their gentle movement emanating from the softly rustling limbs. My ears could not hear the specific words; instead, I hear the tones of contentment, laughter, easy conversation between friends, the shaking of hands, the songs of saying, "I love you."

I imagine the greetings may go along the lines of something like ~

"Hello there! You are arrived!" "So nice to see you again," "Here I am, this year in the birches," "Have you seen so and so from uphill?" And so on. Maybe they comment on how the plants have changed~ "My this sapling is a young oak now," or "What a nice night-scape you have," or "has anyone seen little ferny?" And so forth, stumbling along, on the path of reuniting, of hanging out with easy and good friends.

Later on, the conversations will gain a deeper timbre, one that is serious about the business of melding with the wind in the trees, of the making of music in the night. For now, the tone is gentle, a little higher pitched and "Springy."

Nice neighbors to have in this warming season, Nice neighbors bringing sweet nothings to the night air.

I briefly forgot recently, that it was still indeed Spring. The night had gained a deeper chill, inspiring the making of a fire inside. So I was surprised when going outside to hear the susurrations and purrings from the neighbors in tree tops. I also felt relief that the chill had not not scare them away from their Springtime merrymaking. They seem to adapt to the fluctuations in conditions as one might modify a dance to the changing rhythms of music.

Sounds and smells and colors are all visceral reminders to me that this is Spring, the unveiling of creation. I seek each of these senses to revel in every year and this has been a bonus year with so many flowers, colors, sounds and visitors. I am glad I walked out and into the night time paths to hear the new arrivals shimmering with expectation for the season ahead. Who are you hearing in your neighborhood?

Welcome shadows, Welcome Spring, welcome sky, night noises, you and me.

"Gaze at the beauty of the green earth .... welcoming all that is earthly.
"There is music of Heaven in all things.
The Word is living, being, spirit, all verdant greening.
"All creativity" ~ Hildegard de Bingen

Today, my trail leads to the path of weeds.
And, Here they are!! I did not sow them. They appear. As masters of their gifts. I follow their clues to here, to a clearing of my thoughts and activities. And Here, to marvel. I have followed this path today, with weeds as my guide.

I do indeed enjoy the presence of weeds in my garden. I enjoy the discovery, the wonder, the exploring. And I enjoy the embracing of what can sometimes be an uncomfortable challenge, of allowing for the presence of these green visitors, who dwell right here, alongside of me!

Once discovered, I ponder, but never assume, why have you rooted here? What gifts do you bring? What mystery does your presence reveal? How do I create enough space for you?

For example, in the middle of my onion bed, a healthy crop of nettles arrived at the end of the season last year ~
Mmm. My dear friend nettle.
How did you find me so quickly?
Nonetheless, when I started to make room in the garden bed this Spring, they responded emphatically and with sharp stingings of my shins, exclaiming with extra fire, "I Belong Here!"

Ahh... OK.
I donned some gloves, then gently planted onions around the settled nettles. Once done, I watered the bed thoroughly as a gift. Now, Everyone is happy. Onion, Nettle and Catherine alike. That was a successful journey. Sometimes, though, like with the poke weed plant, I still have yet to negotiate the engagement. I am still learning.

I do not go to books and ask, "what does this mean?" Or "what should I do?" I sit and ponder.
I sense that with the visitors, by simply sitting, wandering around them, and watching, that they will teach me how to listen. In the face of mystery and the unknown, perhaps simply allowing for the messages of beauty to unfold helps us find the ways to embrace change. I see this practice, the one of allowing magic to reveal itself to me as a form of entrainment. I do find that the process changes me. The experience provides me a peek into the profound mystery of diversity, into the mystery of the wild.

We all feel uncomfortable in the face of the unknown, the different, the challenge, yet difference is where good medicine arrives. Change allows for creativity and growth. Brushing up against the stranger, inoculates and deepens the life of the observer.  

In that light, one might see the garden before you as a gift waiting to unfold, blossom and bloom; one might ask, what might be on the menu this day? Nettle soup? Lavender love? Mugwort mending?
The Making, Creating, and Alchemizing of wellness then becomes a co-creation with Spirit, plant and human.

I hope that I will learn from this medicine. I hope I do learn to appreciate the gifts of the wild magic before me. Ansel Adams believed that Life thrives in the wild, and that we all need a touch of it in our lives. I do too. All this written here, is what I like to contemplate. The weeds, the discomfort, the diversity, the contradictions, and the wild all within The Weeds.

And that contemplation reminds me of me. Like me, some things flourish better in some environments than others. Like me, weeds possess the living Word of spirit, like me Weeds reflect magic, wonder ~ we flourish and congregate, we sing and dance, laugh and make medicine. We share comfort and receive comfort. We offer medicine for cupboards and dreams for the soul. In the waxing of summer's growth, we and the weeds flourish, ebb and flow.

We all reflect the mysterious and contradictory perseverance of life.

I will continue to wander into my garden to watch how the plants unfold. How they initiate and respond to the environment in their many-layered conversations. I will notice how the dialogue between me and this garden persists. This dialogue reflects the mystery and effervescence of life.

The greening comes as a mysterious emissary of the possible,
Revealing memories beyond any linear understanding of reality.
Offering hints of our collective history and our possible future.
Bringing the scent of the strange, and unknown fruit.
All these gifts meld together in a cauldron of potential.

The wild unknown is a Welcome Weed in the garden
What wild potential will you plant today?

For more writings about local happenings, see Venus Muse~. The Solstice occurs on June 21, 11:30 East coast time. I will post something about Solstice on the Seasonal Happenings page soon too.

Happy New Moon, and Happy Summer and lots of love, ♥️