It's raining. It's raining A Lot. The rivers have swollen from the downpours. The grounds are swollen with the abundance of water. The paths beneath my feet feel soft from the high water table, and are ready to shed the excess into rivulets with every step.

In all this, the birds rejoice.

The trees love the rain. The amphibians love the rain. The birds? The birds Adore the rain. The more it rains, the more the birds sing. The Juncos, the chickadees, the goldfinches all appear giddy. I try to capture their expressions of delight here in the transfusions of rain.

The sweet Juncos sing in syncopated trills, loudest on rainy days, sounding like the burbling of water over smooth pebbles, with harmony and stereo. Their calls seem to come from everywhere in the forest, echoing 360 degrees. The chickadees, they laugh and squeal in joy, flying in loops, while performing general feats of daring in their playful game of courting. The cardinal calls boldly and proudly; and the goldfinches twitter like after-school children in glee. As the rain falls, the songs amplify in direct proportion to the amount of moisture in the air.

They know something about creating their heaven on earth that I am learning. They relish these days of rain that linger and soak, they rejoice in the waters that stream off the land. They are creating a chemistry of delight in the presence of the divine in water.

I heard this quote from the autists of the Telepathy Tapes, as transcribed by Veda Austin,

"water is the expression of the Creator's first love, a being that Creator never wants to separate from.
Therefore, it is everything. It's love." "even after the water leaves, the water still echoes."
*~*

The birds appear to already know this mystery. And when we listen to them, we seem to feel it too, as though the music of birdsong is expressing the love of Spirit to us. And we have only to listen. They have received a memo about the rain, that we are only beginning to understand.

Their message from the universe: on rainy day, sing your love, with purpose and increased joy. Twirl and trill, thrum and hum, twitter and soar, rock and roll. Laugh out loud with glee. Let's try that too.

There is a word in Sanskrit, Bhāvana, meaning, to infuse, or to saturate any powder with fluid; an infusion; a feeling of devotion; and the moral of a fable, (Lorin Roche). Bhāvana is a perfect description for the woods and the birds in the rain, this Spring. From their song and the water, the land has been infused with delight, and with the transmission of joy of the divine. This infusion could change us, could change our chemistry. To teach us to create heaven on earth with our neighbors. Lorin Roche, asks, with what qualities would you like to infuse your day? Gratitude? Awe? Quietessence? What heaven can you create today?

As it rains, I look up, in the attempt to absorb the infusion in the atmosphere, the transmissions from the sky, the codes of delight. I want to sing my song with purpose, delight and clarity.

Welcome rainy day. Welcome clouds. Welcome creator.

Welcome song.

Welcome birds of Spring creating paradise on Earth. I best go outside, observe and listen.

For more musing on the waters and the very wet Spring ~ Venus Muse~

While walking down a tree-lined lane, I tried to imagine the words, or the paint that would "capture" the experience of witnessing Spring arrive this year. Yet, this sense is not something I can put into a phrase, a photo, or a painting. The ephemeral transition offers a constant, nearly invisible motion of emergence, and unfolding; like an interval of breaths. One occurring right now, when all I can see is green. I look at the landscape or the field, and everywhere, the color of green is bleeding into one experience, into one expression of translucent light.

While gazing down the road, I feel unsure of where one thing starts or another ends. When I peer more closely, I get the impression that this light is a silvery green one. An elven silver ~ an emanation rather than a still-life experience. It as though the green is acting as a foil to draw our attention to itself. This light unfolding is barely hiding a laughing diamond sparkling light beneath the surface of chlorophyll. Sparkling codes that shine into my eyes, skin, senses and heart.

I notice, there is the way that the young leaves, so newly emerging, unfurl so tenderly that I can scarcely breathe when looking at them. Their openness holds them in contact with every cell of the universe- you, me, birds, stars, moon. Everything.

There is the way the very young animal bumps shoulders with each other without a care. Birds land within two feet of me. Red efts watch me with curiosity; I often find myself reminding the young chipmunk that, indeed, the black puma sitting nearby on the pathway's rocks warming himself, is in fact, a predator, eager for the chase.

There the way, the first sighting of anything, is such a treat to share with friends and neighbors alike. Or a field of dandelions in bloom feels like the most glorious expression of joy, and illumination of hope that one has ever experienced. Today, that field is also filled with bees.

There is the way, the day feels when I walk out of doors, onto the first truly warm day, and the air, sounds, smell, and warmth all combine to something more than those words can say, more than the sum of the parts. And you look into the person's eyes next to you, and you see that they feel it too. That you both have your mouths open, and your arms shiver with goosebumps. Sheer beauty has that magic.

These moments
These are the ones I wish I could share with you today and every day of Spring.
Hoping you feel some of this silver diamond magic wonder, seeping into and through the cracks of your hearts too this Spring.

So much love.

I await, for their return. Hopeful, with anticipation. I pause, listening intently, in the in-between hours, knowing that, any dusk, or any dawn now, might be the one, when I will hear the first Flute-like song of the thrush. The reclusive thrush who have come home to nest once more.

The Spring rains have arrived, the streams run through all the forest floors as the grounds, soaked through with water, are ready for the growing season, and the forest floor is soft with wet duff - all creating a perfect ecosystem for their return.

Other things that have emerged overnight too, showing the map home ~ the coltsfoot bright yellow flowers, the Red maple buds which are beginning to fall, young nettles emerging quietly from the thawed ground.
And from the animals ~ the mourning doves court in circles, bobbing after each other like the flirtatious spring warmth. The amphibians practice the music of their lifetime, with a deafening call and response. And me? I pause, always with an ear out, waiting for the unmistakable song. Practicing patience.

Today, while drinking my tea, sweetened with the last drops of honey made from last summer's coltsfoot, I had additional reasons for gratitude. The bright beautiful blooms of the colstfoot has indeed returned in abundance. Last year, I had cried in fear of loss, when the road crew dug deep, with the appearance of attempting to plow out these beautiful plants. I hoped they would be resilient and reappear. I wasn't sure... And indeed, like anything you try to ignore or suppress, the more you attempt to eradicate, rather than embrace, the more they will rear their heads triumphantly and multiply. This year, the soft plants line the sides of the of my road like trumpeters announcing their triumphant return. Welcome back!!

Now, all there is left to do is wait for the thrush. We still have a few more weeks of cold nights, which may keep them quiet. Yet, maybe tonight, just maybe, with gentle rain moving in, maybe soon, I will hear the gift of their song. The song of the gentle thrush

Wishing you gentleness as the Spring gifts nourish and emerge. Namaste

Snow and rain mingle on my roof this morning, arriving to bring A Surprising Spring Storm. Winter and Spring sing together, making an unusual yet quiet harmony. An a-cappella beat, in concert with the songbirds of Spring who still twitter and flit with their irrepressible vibrancy. The combination reminds me of the Thoroughly Magical life force of Spring. The ode plays on, and throughout the edges of the day. My yard today, gives the appearance of only winter~

The birds, the elementals, and the wind know better. We, like they, will ride this storm. Here and there are reminders of what secrets under today’s soft carpet of winter~
Below, are recent photos taken of moments reminding me of Spring. Whether they are of water moats around islands of snow, vernal pools, magnolia buds, daffodil leaves or maple flowers emerging I hope you enjoy these early messengers of magic ~

Namaste dear friends, Happy April storms to you. Let's ride this changing times with glee

it all starts with the simplest ingredients
a peek into the cupboard ~
a few potatoes, some carrots, and a chunk of cheese,
the phase of the moon, the running of wild water, a lifting of the breeze~
all these elements arrive, combining in one particular moment...

and then suddenly, there is alchemy.
The imagination feels the spark of possibility and the weavings of the moment bring whispers of hope to the soul. Suddenly, one can ask, once more, surprising oneself, the question, "What, may I create today, with these ingredients, at this moment?" here it is - possibility unfolds ~ what can we offer, today, now, from the simplest ingredients of life.

it happens just like that. one moment, there is nothing, the emptiness, the silence. the void.
the next moment, something catches the eye, catches the imagination and our notice, and in streams ~ possibility flows through us like the waters of life. when I let my edges soften, when I look around, my eyes begin to notice ~ and slowly the elements mix bringing inspiration with opportunity. a spark ignites. impressions mingle and meld into an idea and flow into the pot of life before me.

it is a random place to start. this moment. when magic and opportunity spread into fractals of shapes and vectors, when memories, feelings and desire all create motion. such an seemingly inconspicuous moment. and yet....

i root around in the cupboards hoping, trusting actually, that my hands will find the right spices to add, the joyous stroke of color to blend, the right words to speak, the beautiful notes to sing. Soon, I discover the inspirational treasures that I will add to the cauldron of life.

The winds blow softly and gently today. The colors mix with light. The light sparkles in prisms on the droplets hanging from the trees, the places where the sweet life-giving water last and linger. Smiling, I notice that the boiling water simmers the potatoes in my soup already; the red shouldered hawks circle overhead in diagrams of infinity, laughing, like gulls, and announcing their return, laughing, as if in the joy of the here and now. The sun peeks through the clouds. This moment reminds me that now is full of the miraculous, it surrounds me~ I catch the wind today and I fly.

Somehow, Equinox has arrived, today! Today, we move from the waters of Piscean dreams to the fire of Aries momentum. Happy balancing to you. If you like to read more, I wrote a little on seasonal event which you can find with this link : Seasonal Happenings

The air is fresh, the light enchanting, the elemental magic inspirational. I want to write about the transporting beauty I find here. Instead, I must be present to a different influence pressing on me today ~ my heart knows sadness, the place between, the uncomfortable grey edgy unknown of stillness and loss. Of expectations ground to a halt. Of being stopped midstream. When the form of what I love, leaves.

I notice during these moments, that I tend to hold my breath. As if the act of delaying the next inspiration, might improve the result. That by abstaining from breathing, I might decrease pain, or better yet, Never feel it. As if the more I can put the receiving of life on pause, the less pain I might feel. Despite this response, our path of living in a sentient body does not work that way. The longer I resist the gift of breath, the greater the experience of discomfort in my chest and body. As any natural numbness wears off, my body will indeed begin to feel. The longer, I delay this breathing into the pain, and exhaling to this moment, the worse I will feel. I can attempt to desist from it all, I can put feeling on pause, or shield myself from life itself; yet experience has taught me ~ This Won't Work. The longer I refuse the healing flow of living waters of breath, the more despair of life I will experience.

I notice during these times, how I often hold my chest still, forcing my body to refuse the connection to life. Yet, the tears I withhold sting and fester, the attempt to suspend all sense, causes my chest to ache more with the pressures. Now, is the time to surrender and allow in the abundance of life force residing all around me in the form of breath

Today, instead of avoiding the sadness, and the gift of life, I choose to breathe.
I breathe in the greyness around me. The heaviness of clouds above me. I breathe in the sense of pain and I release the unshed tears.

During the moments when no Sun appears to lift the spirits, no rain falls to soothe the heart, when it seems impossible to ever feel enjoyment of the light again, when questions of how/why seem louder than gratitude/wonder, and the pain creates a louder no, than the yes, still, I choose to breathe. To allow for the healing of inspiration and access to my soul, to let her divine presence return me to the dreams of my heart.

The pain is felt, the tears transform, the heart is softened, and though in pain, I feel less ache. Trust your heart; trust that your body, soul, breath and sound are enough. The tools of breath and sound are enough to express the unfathomable life that unfurls in mystery with endings and beginnings.

I read recently that there is something called Yin Water. While a lake and a body of water is tangible and beautiful, these are not Yin water. Yin water is the falling of snow, the mist that drifts, the spray on the wind. The tears that dry. This is the divine kissing our lives with the ineffable. This is a reminder of the ephemeral nature of spirit in form We need this. Let the tears flow, the mist moisten, the waters nourish.

The yin that nourishes, changes us and our world.

Outside my window at work, I may have mentioned, stands an ancient Sugar Maple. This aging tree... has only years in its counting left. This spring, the tree seems to know this and has started to bleed sap out of the trunk, creating a short sweet icicle. Creating sweetness in the sadness. I drink in this life. I drink in my time to share its beauty with you.

So much love.

For Luke and for those we remember, and the times when their spirit and matter danced with us.
Thank you and we love you forever

There are more short pieces of writing that describe other events in this Northeast lands. If you want to read more, the most recent piece is in link here: Seasonal Happenings. <3