Category: Nature & Me

Autumn Leaves, Belonging, Contemplative Practices, Ecospirituality, Nature & Me, Seasonal Rhythms, Sense of Place, Writing

A Spirited Walk

Stacey Hayes

A couple of months ago, I was at the airport waiting to board my flight. While chatting with a woman at the gate, I discovered we shared a destination—a national park. I asked, “Do you like to go hiking?” She replied with a smile spreading across her face, “I go on spirited walks.” I nodded with both deep understanding and curiosity. And her response has lingered with me since. 

Now, would you come along with me on this spirited walk in November? 

…………

The crow’s caw calls me onto the well-worn path, my heels wearing it even more. My middle-aged bones, like autumn, creakier than the year before. I take my spirit for a walk, a storied spirit whose chapters continue to unfold with the seasons.

The plip-plop of falling leaves carried by the morning breeze accompany the squirrel’s chatter (likely about me, unsure of my intentions). Dappled light settles onto my cheeks as the drone of machinery settles in the distance. The song of breeze, leaf, and squirrel rise into the thin mountain air.

My shadow follows alongside me—my companion of contrast, an expression of light’s play. The sun spins golden threads on the yellowing tree tops.

On the left, the sign says, “Wrong way, blind curve ahead” as the muffled sound of helicopter propellers sweep up the landscape. Yet, I am heartened by a tiny maple leaf that glimmers at me. Its quilt-like pattern of alternating rust and gold are understated but not unnoticed. Edges curled upward. Veins exposed. Tattered. Worn but not weary. The trees whisper their goodbyes to each leaf, branches baring as autumn ripens.

The leaf ushers me off-trail to a resting place. Often, a spirited walk invites me into stillness. This walk is slow and meandering. An intentional inhale as the trees exhale—an ancient rhythm of reciprocity. Of breath. Of life.

Refreshed, I saunter up, up, up, noticing the 1-2-1-2 cadence of my feet. My breath crescendos with each step. The forward motion senses the sacred rising up. Each pace searching for spirit of place, already known by the crow. The squirrel. The oak. The black bear. 

The late morning light welcomes me around the bend, and the path levels out. The curve is, in fact, not blind. It is illuminated with both light and song. 

Caw, caw.

Chick a dee dee dee.

It is the song of the American Crow. And the Carolina Chickadee. Along with the Red-bellied Woodpecker, the Golden-crowned Kinglet, and the Red-breasted Nuthatch. As birds carol together on the mountain top, spirit rises. 

I stop for awhile to listen. To feel. To be. Eventually, the internal pressure of time urges me to go. As I make the descent back, the glimmering maple leaf, the squirrel chatter, the sun’s golden threads, and avian carols are woven into me—into spirit.

an invitation

If you’re able, consider taking not just a walk but a spirited walk. It can be (and usually is for me) right in your neighborhood. This type of walk needs no companions, earbuds, or fitness trackers. It is simply you and the earth that holds you. It is about noticing, listening, and being curious. It seems so simple, but I believe we often forget the joy and peace of simple things. So, I encourage you to take a spirited walk and see where your path takes you on this November day.

Autumn Leaves, Ecospirituality, Ecotherapy, Nature & Me

The Wisdom of Leaf Skeletons

Stacey Hayes

Most of our attention goes to the brilliant leaf color this time of year. However, I’d like to recognize and honor an often unnoticed gift of the season. As we move deeper into autumn, leaf skeletons become scattered amongst crunchy and colorful leaves on the forest floor.

When I first became aware of a leaf skeleton, I was struck by its beauty – its starkness, delicate nature, and intricacy. The skeleton reveals the structure of the leaf and the veins that supported it with nutrients and water in previous seasons.

Though now delicate, those veins nurtured and nourished the leaf until energy was sent into the tree roots to prepare for cold weather ahead. Some fallen leaves become leaf skeletons. But not all do. The process requires a harmony of exposure and shelter. (Ultimately, all leaves join together as leaf litter that nourish the soil, trees, and creatures below it.)

The leaf skeleton is a gentle, yet poignant, visual reminder of what is life giving and spirit sustaining. Of what supports us when everything else is removed—the superficial comforts and distractions. When all else falls away, the essence remains. The life lines and supports that sustain us are revealed.

Sometimes it takes a shedding, a decomposing, a falling away to reveal what is vital. Just as food, water, shelter and sleep are essential for the body, there are essential elements for the spirit.

My Soulful Leaf Skeleton

Just as each human is imprinted with a unique and precious spirit, what sustains each spirit will be unique.

I researched leaf skeletons online to learn more about the biological processes. And I was surprised that the majority of results were how to create your own leaf skeletons artificially (as they have been treasured for their beauty for many years). However, I’d prefer to find, observe, and treasure them in their natural environment.

If you happen upon one, delight in the botanical wonder you have found. Invite it to remind you of the essence of what’s needed for your soul.

When everything else falls away—whether by choice or circumstance—what is there to uphold and sustain you? Embrace what nurtures your spirit this autumnal season.

And when you venture into the woods this fall, take comfort in the leaf skeletons and leaf litter that nourish the earth you walk upon.

To delve deeper into the gifts that autumn offers, explore the wisdom of autumn trees.

Nature & Me, Parenting, Storytelling

A Storied Shell: Sharing Childhood Stories

Stacey Hayes

We all have memories of our time spent in nature as children. For some it may be camping trips, collecting rocks, watching fireflies on summer nights or wading in mountain streams.

For me, a poignant memory is spending time at Topsail Island in North Carolina with my family and two very special great aunts. One of my favorite things to do as a child at the coast (other than getting sandy and riding ocean waves) was collecting baby ear shells. It felt like finding a treasure when I spotted one on the beach amongst a pile of wave-battered or more commonplace shells.

I have a jar of these shells that I found throughout childhood on display. Seeing the collection reminds me of wonderful memories. It’s a doorway to my past, and I feel reconnected to my younger self.

Most importantly, this collection sparks stories and conversations to share with my son.

I’ve noticed that when I share my childhood stories, he listens with delight and great interest as he imagines my younger self. My childhood magically connects with his. My childhood story becomes part of his story. A thread is woven that connects past, present and future.

Now when we go to the beach, my son always looks for this shell to gift to me. A story, memory and tradition have been passed down; new traditions and memories have been kindled.

As a child, I loved to hear stories from my parents and grandparents about their past. My paternal grandfather grew up on a farm with nine siblings and was quite the storyteller. He readily shared knee-slapping childhood stories that painted vivid pictures in my heart and mind. I felt connected to his younger self and felt a deeper connection with his spirit.

With all the books and shows and music and apps, it’s easy to be (pre)occupied. But the baby ear shell reminds me that sharing our stories and memories with younger generations cultivates delight, connection and meaning.

The unspiraling pattern of the baby ear evokes a sense of expansiveness — making room for more memories and experiences.

It invites listening.

When I reconnect with my childhood and share that with my son, his sense of familial history is nurtured and so is our relationship. Nature nurtures for generations.

Is there a treasure from nature or a natural place that evokes strong childhood memories? What story does it have to tell?

What wonder does it behold?

What childhood stories are you inspired to tell the children in your life?

Storytelling may not come naturally for all of us but consider sharing a childhood nature treasure or memory and spark a sense of wonder.

Fireflies, Illuminate, Nature & Me, Summer

Illuminate: Moonbeams, Moths & Fireflies

Stacey Hayes

Revelations in the Night

I looked out the window after my son had fallen asleep. It looked as if someone left a light on outside — the entire backyard seemed to glow. I went on our deck and looked up. Looking down on me was a nearly full moon with several glowing halos…projecting a moonbeam onto our yard. I had not been aware of the moon lately. It was reminding me that it was still there with its reliable rhythms.

Then, I looked up at the tree canopy at the edge of the woods. The tops of the trees flickered with staccato flashes of light. The fireflies were making their silent song…rhythmic, beautiful, captivating. I savor these lights as I taste their loss, knowing they are here for a short time.

Awakening me from my trance of the fireflies were moths fluttering about my head and then landing on a blossom that is purple by day and a mystery by night.

Mostly hidden in waking hours, moths are revealed in the illumination of a summer night. I am accustomed to bees and butterflies frequenting this bush in the daytime; a new world is revealed in the darkness. These flowers belong to moths too — the winged angels of the night, oft unseen and forgotten.

How could I have imagined that all this wonder and mystery unfolds each night out my back door? With just a window separating me from this magical natural world.

Step outside in the magic of summer nights and what you will find is:

wonder
illumination
mystery

Anticipation & Lamentation

It is always this time of year — in June — when I start looking for them. At dusk, I gaze into the backyard with child-like wonder and anticipation that they will be there. Hoping for just one flash, one spark.

Yes, there it is! The fireflies are here.

I have since learned that they have been living here all along. For one to two years, in fact, as larvae. They watched the leaves fall to the ground in autumn. They felt the chilly weather, the frost, and even the snow in winter. And they witnessed, just as I did, bulbs shoot forth through the ground and bloom in the spring.

I treasure them. I cherish them. Oh, how I am thankful for them.

And now, the weather is warm and humid. It is their time. They are no longer larvae living under the earth and leaf litter — eating worms and slugs and snails and such. They are here to light up the meadows, the understory of the forest, and the canopy of trees.

It is their time to shine. To illuminate. To light the way.

And if you don’t look out at dark, you will miss their invitation.

They call out to each other and to those who trust in their mystery.

“Don’t miss us,” these luminaries beckon with their silent song. “Cherish us, care for us, and let us remind you of the spark that illuminates within yourself.”

They are here for a brief time. When their flickering light-up beings go dark, I always lament their absence.

But I remind myself that their eggs….then a few weeks later their larvae are with me — waiting with me for another summer.

You, the Luminary

Fireflies are a keystone of summer nights. They remind us there is magic. They illuminate our hope in ourselves. They harken back to a memory sealed from our younger years.

What has been illuminated for you lately?

What needs to be illuminated or revealed? Sometimes you are the light for someone. Sometimes you shine the light on something – a creature, a habitat, a place – that needs your voice.

Fireflies live in community. Their many lights come together to illuminate, sometimes in synchronicity. Many times, illuminating a truth or shining light on a mystery requires a village, a community. What community or support may you rely upon?

What glows within yourself? Embrace the truth that you, also, have a spark that illuminates.

You, too, are a luminary.

Luminary: 1. a person who inspires or influences others. 2. A natural light giving body. (Definition from OxfordLanguages)

Illuminate: Moonbeams, Moths & Fireflies

I went out at night.
The moonbeam was bright.
The crickets chirped a sound that has not been heard for many moons.
There was an absence of cicadas’ hum.
The fireflies lit up the trees’ silhouettes against the dark sky.
Their silent song underscored the beauty of their dancing lights.
The moths, winged angels of the night, fluttered about my head.
So much mystery was illuminated
when I stepped outside my backdoor on that weekday night.

~ Stacey Hayes~

How to Nurture Fireflies

Minimize artificial light at night. (This also helps many other nocturnal mammals and insects such as bats and moths…as well as migrating birds).

Keep some tall grassy areas and plants, as female fireflies rest in these.

Leave leaf litter and natural areas since firefly larvae live there for 1-2 years in their larval stage.

Avoid pesticides in your yard. Spraying for mosquitoes negatively impacts fireflies.

Did you know that fireflies are actually beetles and that their glow is created through bioluminescence?

Explore fireflies and conservation efforts further: https://xerces.org/endangered-species/fireflies/how-you-can-help

Nature & Me

Love Sows Sorrow ~ Grief for the Natural World

Stacey Hayes

I kept going back and forth in my mind about publishing this post. I didn’t envision Soulful Seasons being about sad, hard things. My hope is to be life giving and generally uplifting. But this topic persists in my heart. It wants a voice, so I greatly appreciate you as listener.

Being attuned to the natural world brings me great joy and enriches my life in so many ways. The shadow side of this is a deepening sense of sorrow and grief as I bear witness to suffering in nature—both from natural and unnatural causes.

I often experience a heavy heart as I observe loss in nature. I understand all living things have a lifecycle. There are food webs with predator and prey. There is natural death at the end of an organism’s life.

My grief is heaviest when the natural world experiences loss due to human causes. In my suburban environment, I witness this on nearly a daily basis. The wildflowers getting mowed down on the side of the highway. The turtle that was crushed by a car. The loss of habitat for wildlife that has been clear cut for a new car dealership. The black tar residue in our neighborhood creek from the storm water runoff after our road was recently repaved.

Beyond my community, there is even more suffering. The death of millions of migratory birds as they travel north in the spring and south in autumn — disoriented by light pollution and tall buildings.

The litany of loss is unending.

If you are a sensitive soul or are especially attached to nature, you may have these feelings quite often as I do.

How do we manage our grief on a regular basis? How do we respond?

Compassion & Comfort

When I’m out with my son and we see a part of nature being hurt, we talk about it. We ask questions. We express how we feel. We hug each other. We often have a moment of silence to fully experience our thoughts and feelings. We offer ourselves and each other compassion and comfort.

Nature’s Resilience

I remind myself of nature’s resilience. I take note of the new shoot growing from a stump. Or the emergence of hatchling birds and turtles and baby bunnies in the spring. Or the dandelion springing forth from a crack in the driveway or the ground of dry clay.

Creativity

I don’t consider myself the activist type, but as a creative soul I can creatively respond…through writing poetry or these blog posts. By honoring a part of nature through a watercolor or collage. By taking a photo in appreciation of something I notice.

Restoration

There are very practical ways that I can nurture nature in my little neck of the woods. These acts of stewardship help to mitigate my grief and hopefully help nature. Our family enjoys providing bird baths and birdhouses for the song birds in the area. We also try to restore habitat in our community by planting native and pollinator friendly flora.

Blessings & Gratitude

I can say a blessing for or offer my gratitude to the creatures that share their habitat with me. Maybe I should offer gratitude for my grief, which engenders humility, wisdom, and action.

Although we share a collective grief for loss in the natural world, each person’s response will be as unique as the individual.

What comforts you when you grieve for nature?

What response feels authentic for you?

“There I lay staring upward, while the stars wheeled over… Faint to my ears came the gathered rumor of all lands: the springing and the dying, the song and the weeping, and the slow everlasting groan of overburdened stone.”

J. R. R. Tolkien

Nature & Me

Nature’s Calling

Stacey Hayes

Not that long ago, I was exploring the woods with my seven-year-old son. He looked up at me and said:

“Mama, my purpose in life is to take care of nature.”

He was not only referring to his future but to his present life; he spends much of his time caring for nature in a multitude of ways. This purpose is written on his heart.

I was in awe at the inner wisdom and sense of purpose springing forth from his soul. What a gift to have such clarity at a young age.

I believe we are all born with special gifts, passions, and purposes that are lived out in various ways throughout our lives. Children often know their truths.

Along the way, we may lose our sense of what that is. We may be judged or criticized causing us to doubt our path or confidence in our gifts. Grief or tragedy may thwart, delay, and distort our sense of purpose. But in time we may realize these life challenges fine tune our gifts and deepen our purpose.

What I have come to appreciate about nature is its innate sense of its place in the world. A song bird knows its tune and how to construct a “just right” nest. A squirrel has the innate ability to perform ariel acrobatics, store nuts, and engineer a drey. A bulb knows when to awaken and shoot down roots, break through soil and when to bloom. A Monarch Butterfly knows when to migrate, where to journey, and how to find the milkweed plants it needs to lay its eggs for future generations.

These living things rely on and trust in their innate wisdom. They live out their purpose. If only we could trust our inner wisdom more.

The earth needs your gifts. As Frederick Buechner stated years ago, calling is “..the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

How long has it been since you’ve thought about your soulful work? When have you embraced your inner gifts that have most likely been present since childhood?

Does compassion come naturally to you? Are you able to see the world in a different way? Do you enjoy using your hands to create things? Do you have the gift of being able to teach so that others understand? Or the gift of listening and offering presence in way that comforts others? Do you love being with children? Do you have a special connection with animals?

Are you a Healer? Creator? Storyteller? Gardener?

Or perhaps nature calls out to you as it does my son.

I encourage you to take time to reflect on the gifts you behold and present them as an offering to the world. When sharing your gifts, simplicity is grand….it need not be a grand gesture. Our callings are lived out in the small moments that make up our days.

“My work is loving the world.” ~ Mary Oliver

Explore Your Inner Gifts

Identify and embrace your inner gifts that you can offer the world through the metaphor of blooming wildflowers. This invitation for the hands and heart is an excerpt from the Soulful Spring Guide.

Download “Bloom” PDF
All Seasons, Nature & Me

V is for Vulture

Stacey Hayes
Vultures Near the Creek in Durham, NC

Vultures are not a beautiful song bird or an impressive raptor. Rather, they are scavengers. Often feared and most definitely misunderstood.

I have had the opportunity to observe a turkey vulture community in my neighborhood over the past decade. They make their home here year round and congregate in tall trees and on the large power line towers. They circle the sky looking for food. They gather around creek banks, quenching their thirst or refreshing their feathers. And they flare their wings out to soak up the warmth of the sun.

Vultures function as a community…working together to ensure their wellbeing and survival. Gathering at dusk to share knowledge.

Soaring Effortlessly

These under appreciated creatures are very important to our ecological system….keeping our environment clean in their unique way by eating carrion.

Vulture Wisdom
You remind us to question our assumptions and to uncover unique gifts and qualities.

V is for Vulture
Misunderstood.
Not a predator. A scavenger.
Gentle, craving communion.
One of earth’s cleaners.
Your unorthodox hygiene is an adaptation for survival.
Under appreciated, yet, regal.
I respect you.
May you soar.
V.
~Stacey Hayes

V Wings

A Few Turkey Vulture Facts
Vultures actually do not build nests and usually lay two eggs per brood.
They have a keen sense of smell.
Vultures can live up to 15 years in the wild.
They use thermal currents to ”float” high in the sky, which requires them to expend minimal energy.
They can be migratory or year round depending on climate.
Although classified as a raptor, they are more related to storks.

For more information:
http://www.kern.audubon.org/tvfacts.htm
https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Turkey_Vulture/lifehistory

Crouching

Is there an under appreciated or misunderstood fellow creature that you would like to learn more about? What wisdom may it offer you?

All Seasons, Nature & Me

Peace in Presence & Patterns

Stacey Hayes

Taking a moment on a regular basis to be fully present to the natural world around you will not only fine-tune your observation skills but will foster peace within yourself. This practice can also enhance your connection with and empathy for nature. Extend your practice of witnessing by recording your observations and thoughts visually and through words.

“Finding Peace in Presence & Patterns” is a Soulful Seasons Guide that takes inspiration from mindfulness, which in its simplest form is being attuned to the present moment. This guide is also inspired by phenology—the observation of patterns in nature throughout the seasons of the year.

This is an example of how to make a simple record of observations in nature. I created this during the fall and revisited it a few months later. I was again delighted by what I had witnessed and grateful for the nature around me, especially the dragonfly migration (which I had forgotten about!).

If you would like to explore mindful observation and phenology as a personal practice, learn more about the Soulful Seasons Guide “Finding Peace in Presence & Patterns” below.

By offering our calm presence to nature, we can foster peace within ourselves and deepen our intimacy with the natural world around us. Drawing inspiration from mindfulness and phenology (the study of patterns in nature), this guide walks you through the heart-felt practice of observing, visually recording, and reflecting on your experience in nature.

Subscribe to the Soulful Seasons Newsletter below to receive this guide as a free gift. A welcome email will be sent to you with a link to the downloadable PDF file.

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All Seasons, Nature & Me

The Beach Speaks.

Stacey Hayes

The beach soothes my soul. This is what it spoke to me recently.

I have always loved the beach.

As I’ve gotten older, I especially appreciate coastal areas during the fall. I don’t see the typical fall changes such as squirrels scurrying to bury acorns or the changing of leaf color, but there is a distinct shift that happens at the coast. Plants and trees make seeds. Butterflies migrate south along coastal edges, and the weather is cooler. Recently in South Carolina, the beach spoke to me in several ways.

The Presence of a Squareback Crab

This little crab, no more than 2 inches wide, sat with me for awhile at the edge of the ocean. It offered its presence, and I offered it protection as busy beachcombers walked by. The little crab’s wisdom was to notice and appreciate the small creatures.

Abundance in Scarcity

I love shelling. There were very few shells at the beach I visited, and most were very small. However, this lack of abundance helped me to appreciate what I did find. I was also more discerning of which shells I kept. The shells reminded me to take only what I need, for the hermit crabs need shells too.

Sea Star Washed Ashore

I saw a few starfish that had been washed ashore by the tide and needed help getting back to water. A few only had four arms. I learned that starfish can regenerate; however, it can take a few months or years to regrow an arm. The starfish whispered, “You can rebuild and regrow, but it may take a long time.”

“Grandpa’s Beard”

In the coastal areas of the Southern US, Spanish Moss abounds. It is not parasitic but serves as a home for snakes, several types of bats, and spiders. Spanish Moss can be very unusual and beautiful. It said, “I provide shelter to often feared but vital creatures.”

The Moon Always Rises

The full moon rose while I was on the beach. It was October’s Hunter Moon. Its grandeur reminded me to take comfort in earth’s rhythms and cycles. The sun rises and sets. The tide flows in and out. The moon waxes and wanes. Each and every day.

Nature teaches and attunes me to my inner wisdom.
What do you notice outside your window?
Is nature whispering wisdom to you?
Is there a place or landscape that awakens your soul?

Nature & Me

Nature Nurtures

Stacey Hayes

Soulful Seasons was born of my desire to share my own experiences of connecting with nature and creating art as self care. I essentially reincarnated this blog (after an 8-year hiatus) in which I wrote reflections on how my observations of nature informed and inspired my personal growth.

I have always felt a deep connection with the small creatures around me. I have befriended the birds and bunnies in my yard. I help caterpillars and snails cross greenways safely. I delight in the squirrels who take naps on my deck railing.

The Sunning Squirrel

For our homeschool a few years ago, I focused on nature study for my son’s kindergarten. This was such a sweet and sacred time for both of us. I found that a more formal study of nature and looking at the natural world through my child’s eyes was a deeply grounding and healing experience. And together we strive to nurture nature in some way each day as it nourishes us.

My hope is that I can share some of this sweetness and light with you.

Honor a Snail’s Pace