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Eastern Guardian Apple Tree - SE

A budding apple tree in Serpent’s Egg nemeton early spring of 2013

It’s March of 2014 already.  Seems like we just had the new year, though I think the incessant snow skews one’s sense of time.  When I was a little girl, every first of the month I would venture out into the only immanently natural place I was allowed, the yard, and build what I would now call an altar.  Back then I referred to them as “time tables”.  Twigs, feathers, acorns, bark, leaves, snow, egg shells, cicada shells or flower petals, any of these were materials at hand with which I could craft my “time table”.  This creative endeavor was my own way of engaging change.

After years spent in the foggy delirium of self-created human drama, I am consciously making a return towards my authentic self.  A big part of my return to awareness has been increasing my scope of the natural world and all the other scaled, furred, feathered, finned, rooted, and chitinous peoples.  Sometimes this awareness brings pain.  But I think it is more important than ever to end the self-medicating numbness.

For this part of the year in the northern hemisphere, the slow rise from winter’s sleep progresses day by day with incrementally warming temperatures, melting snow, traces of green growth, and the return of birds.  That liminal place between sleeping and waking has an indistinct, fluid quality about it that blurs the boundaries of where ‘self’ ends and ‘other’ begins.  It’s in this liminal frame of mind that I pondered these issues of nature conservancy, of the boundaries between ‘self’ and all the ‘others’ with which I share this home.  This idea has become a large part of ‘my’ expression of druidry; we’ll see where these paths into the Forest will take me from here.

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