Letter to the Land: Spring 2012

Dear Trees , Birds, and Meadows, 

            You are my home. You hold my spirit in your heartwood, springy dirt, and in the soft melodious notes of a blackbird, as it casts its song into the wind. This is where I go to sleep, to rest my eyes from the ragged edges of life. You don’ t simply occupy the love in my heart, you embody it.  Like the simple welcoming spirit of a hug. 

            The geese call over head, like everyday at around 7:15, I look up to see them straining to stay in strict formation. This is reliable, constant. Everyday I here their squawking calls from over head at sunrise and sunset. Like a simple reminder that there are always new beginnings to be had. No matter what time of day. I can recall the very first time I noticed these geese. 

            It was within our first weeks at Woolman and I lay quietly in my damp sleeping bag. The rain come to a silent stillness. They woke me from my slumber, on my solo. Their curios noise making my ears perk up. I peek my head out of the opening of my bag, my warmth. I see them, only three, but I watch as they cross the sky from one horizon to the other. As if they trailed the very day behind them. I lay their for a while longer watching the clouds mold themselves into new fashions longing to see their dark outlines once more. They are the makers of day and night. Of change. 

            My time here at Woolman is that of change. Occasionally it slowly ebbs its way to my feet like the frigid waters of Yuba, while other times it simply washes over me. Filling my mind with contradiction and uncertainty. But I always greet it with a sense of hope, that what is to come can only get better. This is meant to be. 

            So trees, birds, and meadows, I would like to thank you for your consistent reliability. To know that know matter how topsy turvy my world may seem you are always their in your worlds of peaceful work. Waiting calmly and patiently for me to state my case then simply patting me on the shoulder or embracing me in your loving energies. I will always carry you with me in my heart, you will be there in every tender seed I plant, every towering pine I admire, and every cool raindrop that kisses my cheek. 

            Woolman you are my home. You hold my spirit in your lively voices, warm hugs, and smiling faces. This is were I go to sleep, to rest my eyes from the ragged edges of life. You don’t simply occupy the love in my heart, you embody it. Like the simple welcoming spirit of a warm hug.

Love, Ariel