Seasonal Rhythms

Scattering Seeds

On Hope & Possibility

This past week the pine pollen dusted the neighborhood. It was a yellow backdrop to little helicopters raining everywhere. These green and pink winged wonders whirled and swirled off the maple tree in the front yard. Officially called samaras, they are designed to sow. To move with the wind. To scatter seeds of hope and possibility. 

By nature I am usually contemplative and introspective, but spring brings out an active and outward energy in me. Spring calls me to my outer landscape to watch the greening of the woods, the emergence of bees, the shifting energy of birds into a drive to nest, and the awakening of flowers and trees. I am not typically much of a gardener, but this season calls forth a strong motivation to plant more native plants in our yard (for said bees and birds). To join in with the rhythms around me.

As nature seeds out, the earth urges us to plant literal seeds in our gardens and figurative seeds of hope in the days to come — trusting the mystery and unexpected delight that will emerge in future seasons.

Today is a day of scattering potential and possibility. After all, spring reminds us that planting, hoping, and dreaming are all part of the natural cycle. 

Moved to Stillness

Let the wind gather you—

your scattered thoughts and worries.

Swiftly, gently blowing across your skin.

Quenching it as winged maple seeds

rain on your body. A moment

in motion, yet, still within—

a pause. A call to be right here,

right now. Even as you feel the internal

pull of dirty dishes and piling laundry.

This moment carried by the wind

grounds you in sacred stillness,

while scattering seeds

of possibility at your feet.

~ Stacey Hayes

invitations

~ Notice: Pay close attention to your landscape and notice nature’s seeds that are being sowed this season. Let them remind you of possibility.

~ Note: Make notes of “seeds” in a journal — these could be glimmers that capture your attention, a list of nature’s wonders, creative ideas, or moments of inspiration.

~ Plant: Plant a garden, a flowerbed, or a pot on your front porch.

Maple seeds embody hope and potential.
Seasonal Wisdom

A Poetic Season

Poetry as meditation, inspiration, and devotion…

As winter releases and spring unfolds, we enter an undeniably poetic season. Small wonders are emerging, and the landscape will dramatically shift over the coming weeks. The compact form of a poem can capture seasonal transitions, tiny wonders, sweeping landscapes, and everything in-between. They help us to pause. To remember. To honor.

I admit poetry hasn’t always been the type of writing I most turn to. But lately, the poetic form has opened up streams of compassion and expression within me. I find myself reaching for a little book of poems — an anthology filled with wonder — to pause and savor. I read poetry as both solace and inspiration. Not surprisingly, reading poetry has been proven to calm the nervous system and promote an overall sense of well-being. I’ve come to embrace poetry as a contemplative practice, and in this transitional season, I offer this poem.

On the Precipice of Spring

The brown thrasher plucks

a twig from the dense thicket.

A gesture of intention.

Then a subtle song of hope—

a rite to mark the passing

of a season and the

unfolding of another.

My eyes lock in wonder.

Ancestral wisdom,

seasonal rhythms

hold us, shape us,

soften us 

as the wintered earth

softens into spring.

~ Stacey Hayes

I wrote this after watching two thrashers gather nest materials from the holly bush beside our front porch. Thrashers are notably shy, and I was able to witness this moment quietly from a window. I recently learned that they can sing over 1,000 songs, and like the mockingbird, they imitate other bird songs.

Poetic Invitations

~ Allow yourself to pause by savoring a poem. Let the words wash over you, soothe you, awaken you, inspire you.

~ Consider writing a poem to honor the passing season of winter — to honor its gifts and graces. 

~ Find a poem that resonates with you and invite it to spark your writing. For example, you may want to choose a line from it to use as the first line of your poem. 

Poets who Inspire

Deeply connected to the natural world, these two poets write with compassion and speak to me in this season of my life:

~ Mary Oliver, especially her anthology Devotions

~ James Crews, especially The Wonder of Small Things edited by Crews

The trout lilies have emerged—sprinkled like confetti on the forest floor behind our home. These spring ephemerals are poetic wonders that symbolize hope and resilience for me. Read more about them here.
Seasonal Wisdom

Little Hopes Everywhere

The start of February has been filled with unpredictable rhythms. This time of year weather can be variable, and lately it’s been two days of winter followed by two days of spring. While I embrace the warmer days, I’ve found them to be a bit disorienting. I’m reminded that weather can influence our moods and serve as a metaphor for many things—our shifting inner landscapes, the unpredictability of our daily lives, and the changes in the world around us.

Some ancient wisdom suggests widening your lens during times of uncertainty. To broaden your perspective. And in some seasons, I find this helpful. But in this particular month, reassurance is found through my narrow lens. By zooming in on the particulars.

By taking in the little hopes all around me.

What is true and beautiful and hopeful right here? In this place? In this moment?

Today it was the ripening buds on the sprawling elm tree, hovering over the front yard in a hug. And the young daffodil shoots pushing through the ground in the woods behind our house. Just like last February. The green anole that emerged to sun on this unseasonably warm day—a sign of things to come. And the gathering of brown birds—the Carolina Wren, the white-throated sparrow, and the Hermit thrush—foraging harmoniously in the side yard.

When the wider landscape feels overwhelming, I tether myself to the particulars. By shifting our attention, we find little hopes everywhere.

“…beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.” ~ Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

a contemplative practice

Allow yourself a few moments to focus on the natural world—in your yard, out your window, on a walk in your neighborhood. Slow down enough to notice some of the particulars around you. You may want to photograph these or jot down what you noticed. When you document the particulars in images or words, they can be revisited over time and through the seasons — marking the moments and memories that bring us hope, gratitude, and joy.

How may nature’s particulars offer you hope?

In what ways do they ground you?

If you are deep in snow, ice, or other wintry weather, you may want to read last month’s post on Weathering Winter.

A month ago, these elm tree buds were covered in ice. Now they are ripening and bursting—showing hints of the flowers to come. Elm trees form flowers before they get their leaves.
Butterflies, Dragonflies, Ecospirituality, Haiku, Hummingbirds, Nature’s Symbolism

Spring’s Wings

One of my favorite things about spring is the emergence of fanciful winged creatures—the enchanting dragonfly who metamorphosed after spending two years underwater as a nymph, the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail who cocooned on the Magnolia and flutters about the treetops searching for nectar-filled flora, the Ruby Throated Hummingbird whose delicate wings traversed the non-stop flight over the Gulf of Mexico, the myriad of moths that feast on wildflowers, the solitary bee who emerged out of its winter burrow, and the Hummingbird Moth who pupated during winter underneath the leaf litter.

These wonders of nature inspire delight and awe in me. They are also rich with paradoxes: strength in smallness as the hummingbird’s tiny wings fly long distances and hover over a flower beating at 53 times per second. The delicate yet nimble dragonfly—its paper-like wings enabling it to fly upside down and backwards.

I am grateful for the gifts these creatures offer to our ecology. All except the dragonfly are vital pollinators. And dragonflies are equally important as they can eat hundreds of mosquitoes each day.

As we observe the beauty and marvels of these aviators, we can embrace the soulful gifts of inspiration and wisdom for our own journeys. For me they symbolize transformation, hope, spirit, and strength. Most importantly, they remind me to flutter, dance, and hum.

Do you identify with a winged creature? What does it symbolize for you?

You may want to explore its gifts and symbolism through a sketch, collage, or poetic form such as the Haiku (see below). Or simply savor the magical moment when you encounter one.

We can explore the season’s winged creatures through poetry such as the Haiku. This Japanese poem is only three lines with a specific number of syllables for each line (5-7-5, respectively). It also doesn’t rhyme or have a title. I am particularly drawn to the Haiku as its themes are traditionally rooted in nature and the seasons. In fact, the poem usually includes a word (a kigo) that reflects the season. I find that the boundaries of the Haiku offer spaciousness in my expression. And there is poignancy in the brevity.

A Haiku captures a moment much like a snapshot photo. In phrases and fragments we describe what we see. We offer our attention to the natural world and notice what calls out to us. Taking in that moment with our senses, we invite it to inspire our words. In the art of Haiku we express and honor what unfolds before us. 

still for a moment
lacey wings iridescent
dart, dragonfly, grace

There many ways to support and nurture our winged friends:

Hummingbirds: Consider planting native flora that attract hummingbirds or offering hummingbird food in a feeder. Learn more.

Moths: Most moths are nocturnal, so considering reducing the use of exterior lights at night. Learn more.

Butterflies: Plant pollinator-friendly plants and offer water sources in shallow dishes. Learn how to help the endangered Monarch Butterfly.

Dragonflies: Avoid the use of pesticides and herbicides on lawns, which flow into watersheds that dragonfly nymphs inhabit for 1-2 years. Learn more about a dragonfly’s lifecycle.

Nature & Me

Love Sows Sorrow ~ Grief for the Natural World

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

Uncategorized

Flexing Your Wings: Fledglings Take Flight

If you have followed my newsletters or the Soulful Spring Guide, you may have explored nesting as a metaphor for safety, support, and sanctuary.

Nature now tells us that it may be time to fledge the nest.

During the past couple of weeks, I have seen the baby bluebirds in our backyard fledge the safety of their nest. I literally saw them fly out of the bluebird house for their first flight.

This is a rare thing to see. A clue that birds may be fledging soon are observing them peek out of their nesting cavity. They may spend several hours peeking out of the hole in the nest box — with curiosity, wonderment, and fear — before taking flight.

About a week later, Carolina Wrens who were nesting in a roost house on our deck fledged. We were able to witness them getting fed and as they grew, peeking out of their nest with wonderment.

These fledgling birds are courageous…trusting their instincts, trusting that they have the strength to take flight, and trusting that the support they need will be there when they spread their wings.

Feathers found in or near our backyard.

When we humans think about “leaving our nest,” we usually associate that with leaving our family of origin to go off to college, a new job, or whatever life has in store for us at the time. But in actuality, I believe we are “fledglings” many times throughout our life span. . . . anytime you try something new, take a risk, or start a new phase in life.

This “taking flight” may be a change in our external circumstances – getting married, moving, starting school or a new job, starting a new creative venture, or having a child. Or, our fledgling selves may be born of something internal such as newfound wisdom or spiritual searching and growth.

We often begin again, and again, and again.

Regardless of what brings us to a fledgling time in life, we may feel excited, curious, fearful, courageous, or resistant.  These feelings should be expected and fully embraced.

Are you at a fledgling time in your life? If so, it may be helpful to explore these questions with a trusted friend, in a journal, or through artistic expression:

  • What is piquing your curiosity right now? What change may be stirring?
  • Are you in a phase of transition?
  • What support will be there for you when you are ready to “fledge”? What support do you need to seek?
  • Do you trust that you have the inner and outer resources you need to flex your wings?
  • What makes it difficult to trust?
  • How can you offer gentleness and patience to yourself as you flex your wings?
Carolina Wrens just a few days before fledging the nest.