Singing for the Trees, Earth Day and Every Day

One of my very earliest memories is standing at the screen-door of my childhood home on a sunny summer's day and looking up up up into the branches of the huge old maple trees in our yard. Their leaves were dancing in a lively wind, and their wind-song coming down to me I heard echoed in the waves of the ocean years later.

I'm willing to bet that nearly everyone (more likely everyone!) reading this post has a favorite tree in her or his life, whether it's one from your childhood or presently...hopefully both! And I don't think I'm going out on a limb here <yes, deliberate pun!> to say that "your tree" is special to you for far more than just its sturdy presence and beauty, but for the personal connection you feel standing beside it, and also the sense it's very much enjoying your company too. When news looms of yet more concern over the clear-cutting of the world's forests, the devastation of the rain forests, patting the trunk of your Tree for reassurance, yours and the Tree's, is something I hope you do.

I'm composing this on the eve of Earth Day's 41st celebration. As a college student in 1970, I helped organize a marvelous community-wide Earth Day, and will always count this as one of my most memorable college experiences. Thank goodness for the consciousness-raising and so many other wonderful developments that have sprung from these 40 years of Earth Days.  Early this Spring I learned of a new and marvelous event that honors the Earth's trees, "Sing for the Trees", the creative inspiration of Susan Elizabeth Hale of Weaverville, North Carolina.


It's beautiful and delightful in its simplicity. Sometime between noon and 3 PM in your time zone, show up at your favorite tree(s) alone or with others who wish to join in on the fun, and share some time with that beautiful Tree-Being.  Susan encourages all of us to sing (or maybe tone a note) and offers this great list of reasons to do so...that singing to your tree(s):
* Helps create community
* Gives us a way to have a voice in saving what we love
* Is an offering of our life force and spirit
* Connects us to ancient traditions
* Nourishes trees by giving them carbon dioxide
* Is part of the joy of being human
* Helps us relax and tune into nature and to each other
* Reminds us we are part of the chorus of life


In 2010, 30,000 people in 39 countries and 30 states sang to trees. One person from Switzerland wrote to Susan, "Just letting you know, that since we sang and danced with the trees with the kindergarten children a few weeks ago, many of them are spontaneously doing this ritual every Thursday afternoon when we go back to the forest."
 
Such a marvelous outcome among many sent to her, but precisely how it works and what it might do shouldn't matter. Consider Chief Seattle's well-known words, that we two-leggeds are an integral part of the Web of Life, and that whatever we do affects this Web for good or ill. Tomorrow, all over the Earth, thousands and thousands of people will be putting forth songs for trees, and toning, and smiles, and lots of lingering tree-hugging.  I do think it then highly possible, that by nightfall in your time zone, you might well feel somehow uplifted.


This month's fast-pace has made this a last-minute post. I've been fretting that the delay would mean not many people would learn through me about "Sing for the Trees".  But as a tree's calendar is the slow turning of the Wheel of the Year, my favorite local tree whispered to me this morning, "All in good time!" And of course, there is no expiration date on this. On any given day, there's a tree who'd be so very pleased with your presence and your Song.

Here's a link to Susan's web site....an internet visit that I know you will enjoy:

http://www.songkeeper.net/singforthetrees.htm

(The photo at top is of some of my Tree Family here on Round Top Hill. They send their "best regards" for Earth Day!)

Raising the Roof on Sun Dog Farm - Part Two

As promised, here are a few more words and stories to round out this quite marvelous tale. A month of "good living" has taken place now under the green metal roof, and the residents, two people, two dogs, and two cats, seem in complete agreement that it's bordering on Bliss! (Next time I'm there I'll try getting them all to pose for a group photo) The four solar panels are ticking and gurgling beautifully right along, and the gorgeous "super" Full Moon of March 27th and 28th flooded the interior with its Lunar blessing.

[Actually the latest report is that a bluebird, newly returned from the South, showed up a few days ago not far from the front door...and it's my hunch that she or he arrived straight from "happiness-land"....trusting you know that expression :-) ]

Reviewing the list of stories mentioned in the previous post, what connects them is the remarkable satisfaction each gave me from such literal, hands-on work (or "feet-on" in the case of "stirring" the cob-mixture for the floor!).

When this ambitious project of Tracy and Justin's was launched, I knew I'd definitely enjoy being a part of it, but the incredible delight of helping "raise a house" far far exceeded my early estimation.

I wouldn't want to gloss over the frustration and exhaustion that presented themselves at times, especially as the hoped-for three-year time frame stretched into nearly five. Being an off-and-on helper made this element less onerous for me personally. As one of the Moms of the AARP work crew, my mother's heart swelled with pride time after time watching this slow but steady progress in the pursuit of our kids' ambitious dream to build this wonderful Earth-friendly dwelling. 


There are the practical reasons to have taken this all on such as lower heating costs and comparative ease of maintenance. But then there are other more "priceless" ones such as how beautiful a home this is in its simple but elegant design and light-filled interior. And for anyone who's had the opportunity to step inside a straw bale home, you will know what I mean when I say that you feel the palpable "aliveness" inside these amazing walls. "Earth-friendly" takes on a most vibrant meaning....


I know that all four of us parents, Children of the '60s "with flowers in our hair" (well, at least I put some in my hair!) set out in our young adulthoods to help make a difference in a pretty-battered world. Living lightly on the Earth was an early tenet taught to our children upon their arrival on the planet in the mid-'70s. Speaking then at least for myself, watching and helping Tracy and Justin's straw bale house grow from its dream-inception and emerge slowly from the earth at Sun Dog Farm, certainly has been watching a piece of my hopes and dreams blossom as well. 

Justin and Tracy, heartfelt congratulations, with much love from Mom/Carol. And sharing the message again from 98-years-young Dottie Carpenter, "May you have many years of wonderful happiness in your beautiful new Home."

...Trees Rise...

(a poem to welcome Spring)

Stars tangle in the night-black branches of the soft maple rising
impossibly high against the mellow night’s light-pricked ebony velvet—
Orion, leaping ahead of the winter-born Saggittarius, is now caught by early dark. In January’s bejeweled & frozen skies, the chase lasted until mid-night.

I sail off upon this star-current, trusting its familiar passage, following
night-flighted birds heading homeward…the Wheel lumbering us all along
with its gentle rounding-rhythm.

So we see the night through…
Birds alight to sleep…
I arise, summoned by quiet yet such insistent urgings…

Trees rise from mist-riddled bottom lands which resound and echo
with the calls of birds exulting
in the growing light & warmth of the year;
the Earth slowly spinning Her way into Spring.

We trust to growth, to life re-inventing itself…
to the oozing, leaf-mold muck yielding its verdant promises….sap-Rising.

I gather hands-full of Dawnlight spilling in through the living-room windows,
stirring and drawing up these hidden energy-currents,
hooking into this shifting, vital force
– tidal vibrance, as subtle, as constant as the waxing & waning of the Moon –
and as reliable,
despite the illusion of its silver crescent
to make us think the whole of its celestial body
has been consumed by a nameless darkness.

inspired by a journal entry
28th March, 1998
at Morningside

Raising the Roof on Sun Dog Farm - Part One

On a cloudy August morning in 2006, I stepped into the muddy trench dug around the rectangle of packed dirt, and helped my partner, Barb, set our first 50-pound block of our adult children's dream. We are half of the "AARP Crew" helping to lay the foundation blocks of my son, Justin, and daughter-in-law, Tracy's, straw bale house. The Crew is composed of their Baby Boomer parents, all of us eager to be a part of this eco-friendly, 21st century, house-raising. Ken and Chuck are the proud Dads.

Their desire to do as much of the construction with human labor (and much heart), to use natural and/or recycled materials, and have a good bit of fun along the way brought the AARP crew back day after day, year after year, and also dozens of friends coming for various house-building bees spread over four and a half years time. Living only a 30-mile drive away, Tracy's parents, Barb and Chuck, were devoted "day laborers" through all those many many months (and had the most fun as a result, I'm guessing).

On the day they at last moved in, February 20th, 2011, somewhat dazed as well as delighted that The Day had at last arrived, Justin stood with arms folded looking around at their home and observed that the whole thing was like birthing a child with all the attendant joys and anxieties. Oh, yes....

Attempting to choose a few favorite stories for one post is a tall order! An excellent set of photos and running commentary by Justin of the work through 2008 can be had by visiting this link: http://www.meadowmuse.com/sundog/index.html

Certainly five of the most exciting days were the days each of the five, two-story tall "bents" were raised and secured. Justin's caption for this photo reads: "A tractor, 48 hours, and eight people later, we got to this point. Mike said he was sure the Amish would have been chuckling. First time we stood this up, my only thought was: 'My god, this is tall'". Just before dusk on December 28th of that year, the last bent gently "thunked" into place, and as we did each time that happened, as one we threw up our arms and yelled our delight.

Other stories that come to mind: learning to hand-hew wooden pins, helping to unload half of the 80-pound straw bales one late summer day (my arms were jelly that night), pushing heavy wheel-barrow loads of plaster about, mixing the cob for the natural floor with my bare feet, and having my breath taken away each time I'd arrive and see what wonders had been accomplished since my last visit.

As the sense of the floor plan began to emerge, Barb and I would stand beside the future window seat and conjure up a picture of sitting there together with our first cup of tea. And, lo, that day arrived:

Do check back for more photos and descriptive tales and especially to see what this amazing house-of-straw looks like in February of 2011.

...to be continued!!...

Sap Rising: In Praise of Egypt's Brave Protesters

After months of frigid winter weather, today's splendid sun and mid-50s warmth is bringing smiles to everyone here. Spring suddenly seems more than a distant vision. Maple syrup producers are squinting at the sun in delight, laying out the sap-lines and considering how soon they can tap the trees in the sugar bush.

A week ago we had one of the coldest mornings of the winter, -15F. at my home. By midday word had reached me of the triumph of the Egyptian protesters in Tahrir Square, and all afternoon I sat glued to the television, mesmerized by the scenes from Cairo of jubilant Egyptians celebrating the end of Hosni Mubarak's 30-year autocratic rule. Eighteen days of peaceful, persistent demonstrations by mostly youthful protesters had resulted in an outcome that some considered impossible at best, daunting at the least.

How this all has happened in such lightning speed is astounding and extraordinary. When I first began to hear reports from Tunisia of the Jasmine Revolution, I reflected on my own vivid memories of the anti-war and civil rights protests of the 1960s. Then too idealistic and brave young people put themselves on the line to push for change in the same doggedly determined, non-violent ways. And yes, though it took long years, we too achieved extraordinary change.

Fast-forward to the second decade of the 21st Century: marvelous technological resources (Facebook!)fuel these fires this time around. And it was a Facebook post last month of a YouTube video that assured me that this thirst for freedom would not be denied:

It is not without cost or further struggle. That we all know. The protesters surely know. But there simply is no denying this patient, persistent force at its wonderful work. No matter how dark or deep the cold of winter days, daylight slowly but steadily increases, the maples stir awake, and their sweet sap begins to rise. The Earth gently careens Her way towards the season of green-renewal.

This year, like no other I can recall, the fulfillment of this promise overflows with golden light.

Standing at the Cave Door

I was delightfully rewarded for rising early this winter's morning by the sight of the waning crescent Moon just a hand-span away from glittering Venus. Further to the East, pale light was already suffusing the sky at just past 6:30 am. It does lift my spirits to see the day stretching out at either end by nearly a half hour's-worth of daylight already, just a month past the Winter's Solstice.

Heaven knows, nearly the entire population of the East Coast needs this sort of encouragement that this rugged winter is not going to last forever (but then my birth-month, April, was called "the cruelest month" by the poet, T.S. Eliot  ::::shiver:::: )

With Christmas trees taken down and outdoor lights unstrung, January can take on a depressingly gray and somber cast. (Though here on my street, my neighbor and I are still firing up our modest "displays" each evening--his a white-spiral Christmas tree--mine a grape-vine wreath circled in multi-hued LED bulbs. Maybe we're in competition to see who will outlast who?!)  There's still so much dark, so much bitter cold to endure. Weeks and weeks....months of it. Character-building, some would say. Yankee-character has at least some of its roots in this long season.  I'd think of it that way in the years when teaching duties called which meant rising in the cold and dark, often with the driveway needing to be shoveled out before setting off on wintry roads, fingers crossed that I'd make it up Dye Hill without sliding into the ditch (Our school superintendent didn't much believe in snow days!) Ah yes, days like this were character-building indeed.

But somewhere not too far from where I sit typing, a black bear stirs in its den and blinks sleepily at the light growing outside. No rush yet, he knows, settling more comfortably before snoozing once again, snug in his winter retreat.

And in four days time arrives the ancient celebration of Imbolc, a day honoring the Celtic goddess Brigit or Bride, later Christian-ized as St. Bridget and the day called Candlemas Day. Regardless of which, Brigid the Light-Bearer overlights both celebrations. I regard myself on familiar terms with Brigid, "the bright arrow", fire goddess that she is. This year I've learned a new custom of honoring her, and so will be tying strips of white cloth on the bushes near the bird feeders, soliciting her blessings of abundance for the still-emerging year.

Doing a bit of research for Imbolc and its place in the Celtic calendar, this poetic description caught my writer's eye:

But  although this season was so cold and drear, 
small but sturdy signs of new life began to appear: 
Lambs were born and soft rain brought new grass. 
Ravens begin to build their nests 
and larks were said to sing with a clearer voice.  
 
The British Isles are a bit ahead of us, true, but even here seeds are stirring in the darkness. And the maple trees are feeling their root hairs ever so delicately starting to tingle.

Pushing Off from Shore

After what have been months of contemplation in starting this blog, I'm borrowing opening words from a man whose life journey has inspired me ever since his book, Anam Cara, dropped into my hands long ago in a Barnes & Noble aisle. Some will know the name without my writing it....John O'Donohue. This is how he begins his book:
"It is strange to be here.
The Mystery never leaves you alone."
Perhaps because of my Celtic roots, these words hold particular power. I certainly know that as long as I can remember, the powerful Mystery that O'Donohue names has intrigued and enchanted me, and with whatever Grace my life is blessed, may it always be so. Maybe, if not likely, my being Aries-born predisposes me to the delicious enjoyment of exploring this Mystery, to being drawn to embracing adventures that present themselves to me along the way....and by this decade of my life, my sixth, there have been a goodly number!
And at the top of the second page of Anam Cara, this: "Humans are new here. Above us, the galaxies dance out toward infinity. Under our feet is the ancient earth. We are beautifully molded from clay. Yet the smallest stone is millions of years older than us. In your thoughts, the silent universe seeks echo."
A most memorable moment in my young life was the first Moon-landing. The truly breath-taking photos of Earth taken by the astronauts showed us our beautiful Home, deep blue of the Oceans, white masses of clouds, red-brown of the continents, this "Big Blue Marble" floating against the backdrop of the black and starry heavens, carrying us along in its timeless journey around the Sun. And I a present passenger upon its exquisite, glimmering surface.
Through much of the journey of my life I have kept records of my days in many a diary and journal. Arriving at this time and place where marvels of technology allow such things, I've been nudged to share some of my musings and observations with the "wider World"....with you. Perhaps you'll care to respond with your own comments and notes of your own Earth pilgrimage and I encourage you if that comes to mind. We are all sharing a marvelous journey here on this beautiful Earth. I'll admit to a bit of trepidation as I click the right buttons to "publish", but all journeys and adventures begin with a first step. So now, on the count of 3, I'm pushing off from Shore.....3....2....1......!!!