There is a giant pileated woodpecker perched above me just outside my window. He is drilling holes into one of the logs that cover my cabin walls, searching for dormant ants…Instead of scaring him away I look forward to his tapping – he is not only cleaning up my house, his presence reminds me that in order to create change, new space must be created; holes in the walls of what was must appear!
In the month of November I lean into the darkness with comfort and a prayer to stay awake for what is, to be present for the seeds of new beginnings… I listen to flowing river voices near my refuge who remind me to remain open and fluid. When walking through the forest listening to my feet shushing through papery mole brown leaves my thoughts turn towards the fertile earth beneath my feet. I note the presence of ground covers, partridgeberry, wintergreen, club mosses, trailing arbutus many of which are half hidden under nature’s mulch or the first snow dust. I take pleasure out of seeing crimson red berries.
I think about the seeds and nuts resting beneath the forest floor, readying themselves to burst in the spring, while existing roots are thinking, and making decisions underground in the warmth and darkness of rich humus, the womb for all forest life on earth. Root tips are so sensitive that they guide the remainder of their filaments around any obstacles they may encounter while exchanging information, nutrients and water with relatives and neighbors by way of fungal conversation.
I am deeply impressed with this kind of communication – there are no secrets hidden underground. No traps waiting to snare the unwary. No lies are told. Survival of the whole forest organism is at stake and Nature makes certain her focus does not waver
.Oh, how comforted I am by this kind of honesty. It is not surprising that my body relaxes her vigilance. Betrayal is not part of Nature’s way. By the time my walk ends my eyes are heavy and I am ready to enter deep sleep.