New Beginnings

Scattering Seeds

April 10, 2025 Stacey Hayes

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.

Migrations, Nature’s Wisdom, Seasonal Rhythms

A Season of Transitions

September 13, 2024October 16, 2024 Stacey Hayes

On Molting & Renewal

The past few weeks, I’ve noticed the process of molting in the bird world. The Cardinal shedding his head feathers. The Carolina Wren hopping around without a tail feather. And all sorts of fledglings born earlier this summer growing in their adult feathers.

Stubby. Shaggy. Raggedy.

These are not the first words that usually come to mind when thinking about songbirds. They look awkward and not quite like themselves, yet, they are exactly what they need to be in this season. They are perfectly imperfect.

Molting is a process they can’t control. It’s governed by circadian rhythms, the changing light, and the turning of seasons. Molting is a season of vulnerability for birds. Feathers are used not only for flight but for camouflage, insulation, sun protection, swimming, and making sounds. Birds take care as best they can during this time—conserving their energy to grow new feathers, eating more protein, and seeking shelter. Though arduous, molting is a regenerative natural rhythm that prepares birds for what’s to come—be it migration or colder weather.

Molt stems from the Old English mutian meaning to change.

I often think of September as an in-between season. A time of change and transition. Routines and rhythms begin to shift. Our minds, hearts, and bodies begin to adapt to seasonal changes. As my own feathers feel a bit weathered and worn, I’m reminded that letting go of what no longer resonates with my values or priorities makes space for new growth and opportunities. Midlife (or whatever life season you may be in) is an opportune time to embrace the wisdom embodied in cycles of release and renewal — as autumn will soon remind us in a myriad of ways.

In the meantime, we can take our cues from birds and nourish ourselves in body and spirit during times of transition. Making space to rest and restore, releasing what no longer serves us. Because molting, like most seasonal rhythms, can guide us and point us toward hope.

“I watch the bald Cardinals feeding their fledglings, and I know they feel awful. I remind myself of what I cannot remind them–that raggedness is just the first step toward a new season of flight.”

~ Margaret Renkl, The Comfort of Crows

for reflection

You may want to use these questions as writing prompts for journaling or perhaps just to ponder while watching birds.

~ How may I meet my own “molting” process with compassion, gentleness, and patience?

~ What wisdom may I discover in cycles of release and renewal?

ways to support molting and migrating birds

~ Offer protein-rich foods such as seeds and suet.

~ Hang roost houses as the nights become cooler.

~ Turn off unnecessary lights, especially between 10pm-6am as these can disorient birds migrating at night.

Uncategorized

Flexing Your Wings: Fledglings Take Flight

May 7, 2022May 17, 2022 Stacey Hayes

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.

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?