Tag: transitions

Contemplative Practices, Seasonal Rhythms, Writing

Glimmers for September

Stacey Hayes

Here we are as summer wanes. Last September I wrote about this being a month of transitions. And as seasonal rhythms remind us — with their reassuring and predictable patterns — this theme has emerged again. 

Transition times are an opportunity to honor and cherish the gifts of the passing season as we anticipate the graces to come. Paging back through my journal, I note the gifts of summer—the first sighting of fireflies, the increased activity of Eastern Cottontails, and the pollinators  in full force, especially on the mountain mint and bee balm. I also noted how summer calls my spirit both to play and deep rest.

These were documented in what I call a list of “noticings.” My personality by nature longs for lists—metaphorical containers that hold “to dos,” groceries to be purchased, homeschool tasks, and books to check out from the library. These practical lists help me to feel not only organized but rooted. I feel sort of lost without them.

The most nourishing type of list for me, though, is one that records the moments that stand out in both my inner and outer landscapes. These “glimmers” are simple moments of joy and peace that I encounter in the small wonders around (and within) me. My journal is filled with these. When I cannot muster the creative energy or time to write proper prose, I start with a list. 

This practice stirs my creativity and deepens my appreciation for the glimmers in day-to-day life. My lists of “noticings” have become a form of meditation and contemplative practice. They are collections of observations, wonder, and insights that I can return to again and again. It is a gift to page back through my journals and be reminded of glimmers from previous seasons and years.

My most recent list includes:

~ The hummingbird has been spending more time at the feeder preparing for fall migration.

~ Subtle yellow hues on the elm tree

~ Waning daylight

~ Birds still molting (Carolina wren is missing a tail feather)

~ Goldenrod: a symbol of the seasonal transition as it leans into autumn, offering its beauty and sustenance. A bridge between seasons. A keystone species.

~ I am slowly coming out of a fallow creative season. A necessary time of waiting and listening to hear what rises and unfolds.

These lists have no rules; there are no “to do’s.” They are unassuming. They are whatever is needed in the moment.

When woven together, these life-giving lists tell a story of how my inner and outer landscapes intertwine. They become more than the sum of their parts—they become a form of wholeness.

So when your well fills dry or you are longing for a sacred pause, consider making a list of  “noticings.” Over time you may notice patterns or themes emerge. You will also become more in tune with subtle shifts in the seasons—and how those shifts are reflected within you.


Goldenrod 
Scientific name: Solidago
(Latin for solidus, “to make whole”)
Seasonal Wisdom

A Poetic Season

Stacey Hayes

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.
Migrations, Nature’s Wisdom, Seasonal Rhythms

A Season of Transitions

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.