The Power of a Seed

Here it is, mid-February, and even those of us who treasure living by the seasons are starting to daydream about Spring.  So, here in the throes of Winter,we've just scheduled a seed-starting workshop.  The timing is calculated so that you will have seedlings ready to go into the ground as early as we can safely do that here, without danger of frost...

The Power of a Seed:


Starting Your Vegetable and Herb Garden from Scratch

Saturday, March 26, 2-6pm

Want to grow your plants from seed but don't know how to begin? Join Natasha Herr, co-owner of Homegrown Edible Landscaping Co., for this hands-on workshop. Topics will include starting seeds indoors using a grow-light, in an outdoor cold-frame, or in a greenhouse, preparation of seeds and soil, care of seedlings and transplanting. Discover how easy it is to start your plants from seed! Go home from this class with your own egg carton flat of starts!

Saturday, March 26, 2011, 2-6pm. $35 includes all materials and seeds.

Class will be held at Radiance, 9 W Grant St, in downtown Lancaster, PA, across the cobblestones from Central Market. To register, stop in or call 717-290-1517.

Natasha Herr is co-owner of Homegrown Edible Landscaping Co., a company dedicated to helping people learn to grow their own food.

Ice Valance...

This morning I looked out my window just in time to see this sheet of ice pause before sliding off the roof.  I had just enough time to step outside & take this photo before it crashed to the ground.  A lace valance of ice...

The ground is covered with gray, slushy snow.  The air is filled with cold, grey mist.  The sky is one enormous, gray cloud.  I'm thinking it's time for a pot of Spring in My Step tea... Holy basil, Lemon balm, St John's Wort & more - an herbal mood lift!

Ice!

Snow, sleet and freezing rain started falling here overnight. I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of ice hitting the window. Ice. Beautiful and dangerous. A reminder that we are still in the grips of Winter.

Finally, Hafiz has something to say to me today:

O my heart, make a wish for the coming of Spring.
That in every field there will be a thousand birds and a hundred roses will grow.

Earth and Straw

In the morning, as the light begins to spread across the meadow, I am delighted by the shadows and illuminations around the window in my sleeping room. I lie still and watch the walls move and breathe. The structure of this little house is so simple and organic – she lives.

The bones of the house are bales of straw, stacked like bricks for stability and balance. The outer walls are a lime plaster to keep the wind and wet at bay. The inner walls are sculpted of clay and straw. The scent of earth is always here. Sometimes I think I live in an earthen womb…

Hafiz is irritating me. I have read a dozen poems waiting for lines of joy and delight in the experience of being alive. Page after page hands me one critical thought after another. I’ll keep reading until I find something worth sharing…

Bridgid, Help Me Light This Fire

Only in the morning can a glass of splendid wine taste good
And throw its protective rays around the horizon of your house…
… the sun is coming up in the corner of the Winehouse.
Lift up your head. With the full moon on your shoulder.


Hafiz

In poetry, Hafiz uses imagery of the wine, wine-drinker and wine-house often. It’s not about indulging in alcoholic beverage. The wine-house is a metaphor for a sacred place, a place to pray and contemplate the nature of divinity. The wine-drinker is the one who is open in meditation. And the wine is the divine love received.

It’s cold this morning. My little house is chillier than usual because I was out last night & didn’t build a fire when I got home. By morning, the cold air from outside had fallen through the stovepipe, making it more difficult to light the fire. Cold air is heavy, and the little flames have to push hard to move that air back up through the pipe so that the stove will begin to “draw”. Only then will the tentative flames become a fire that can heat the stove and the house. Building a fire in a cold stove takes some patience and persistence. And some divine assistance is nice, too…

A fire-lighting blessing has been coming to me slowly. It’s a prayer to the goddess Bridgid, an ancient goddess from the land that now includes Britain (which is named for her – can you see that?). Some people say that Bridgid, Brigit, Bride is our Original Fire Ancestor.

Bridgid, help me light this fire.
Flames of heat are my desire.
Protect this house,
Keep it safe and warm
To shelter us from Wind and Storm.

Living in the Tundra

There is a film I have seen many times, though not for quite a while, which comes from the depths of memory sometimes. Nanook of the North. It is a documentary, following a traditional, nomadic Inuit family in the early part of the 20th century. We watch them build an igloo from blocks of snow. Not unlike the structure of my house made from blocks of straw.

The harshness of the landscape is striking in contrast to the comfort of the home, and the warmth of the hearth.

This morning, Hafiz says:

I heard the rumor You were coming, so I have been busy saying prayers.
I needed this respite of joy for my aching heart.
O Beloved, knock hard on the handle when you finally come to my door.
I have left the light on in the window, and this house is meant for You.

The Illusion of Alone

I awakened this morning in the quiet of a snow-covered meadow. It will not be easy to leave my house today. Perhaps I will embrace the offer to stay home alone. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone to come visiting today. Probably no one will.

And yet…

The meadow is full of life. Feral cats watch my every move. I give them food and goat’s milk, croon over them and tell them how lovely they are. Some of them let me stroke them while they drink the milk. Hundreds of Juncos are wintering here. They perch precariously on the tall grasses. Juncos live in the Arctic during the warmer seasons, so they are under the impression that it’s warm here. Foxes cavort in the meadow and hunt along the stream. Hawks and owls and turkey buzzards soar overhead. I’m sure mice are hiding in the meadow, but I rarely see them. I think all of my predator neighbors make them nervous.

From Hafiz this morning:

The seas and oceans all come from the source of a very small stream.