Monday roots

Things I am feeling grateful for on this gloriously sunny Monday:

1. My volunteer work on the farm, and the opportunity to learn from and with children and youth outside while growing and harvesting organic food.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

2. My partner at crime on the farm, Guy. He is the director of education at Soil Born, and I not only enjoy working with him, I have learned an amazing amount about teaching kids and youth from him over the past seven and a half months.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

This photograph is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

3. Writing dates with my dear friend and fellow writer, Ahava, who is a creativity and loving inquiry mentor in British Columbia, Canada. You can check her work out here.

4. Artwork. Our house usually has beautiful artwork on all the walls. Since we moved into this new place last summer we had not taken the time to hang all our artwork, and so the house just did not really feel like a home. This past weekend my mother and I fixed this by getting out a hammer and some nails and hanging colour all over our walls. The painting over the fireplace and the one by itself between the two chairs are both the work of my dear friend Louise Mould, back on Prince Edward Island. Aren't they gorgeous?

5. The Mary Oliver poetry reading I went to on Friday. There were close to 600 people there. She is getting rather frail, but once she made it to the podium she was all humour and stories, and inspired us all with her deep enjoyment of the process of sharing her poetry with her audience. She received a standing ovation from us at the end, and had the threatre raise the lights so that she could see all our faces and blow kisses to us. There is something extremely profound about seeing the impact that a writer like Mary Oliver has had on so many lives at this point in her career. It was deeply moving.

6. The grape vineyards of Napa Valley are all making the transition into Fall, the leaves all just starting to tinge red and orange at the edges. Unfortunately I was driving, and my designated photographer had some technical difficulties, but the rolling hills and patchwork quilt of vineyards in the fall were breathtaking.

This morning I woke up and wrote a short little poem as I began my day. I am grateful for the poem, the day, and looking forward to the evening, and the last golden rays that are leaning in my window at an angle now as I type. I will leave you with my little poem. What are you feeling grateful for today, friends?
 

There is something daring about morning sunlight--

The way it blazes unselfconsciously

Full of joy

Down through the layers of Fall leaves, setting every vein on fire,

through windows left unshaded,

its whisper calling out in sing-song tones, asking

What will you create today?

Listening to poetry

 

I am heading off to hear Mary Oliver read her poetry in Santa Rosa tomorrow, so thought I would end the week by sharing two of her poems. Mary Oliver is an incredible writer who has redefined our relationship to the natural world over and over again through her poetry. If you have not read her poetry before, I encourage you to google her, or go check some of her poetry out at your local library so you can hold its weight on the page between your palms as you read it. 

 

Whatever you do this weekend, I hope it includes moments of poetry, and the crisp beauty of the of Fall! Have a great weekend, friends!  

 

The Journey, by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Sleeping in the Forest, by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,

she took me back so tenderly,

arranging her dark skirts, her pockets

full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,

nothing between me and the white fire of the stars

but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths

among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

breathing around me, the insects,

and the birds who do their work in the darkness.

All night I rose and fell, as if in water,

grappling with a luminous doom. By morning

I had vanished at least a dozen times

into something better.