Thirteen Moons
“The whole year begins:
Look! There is snow on the ground!
Look! There are our tracks!
We walk a little further …..
Look! The snow is gone!
We walk a little further ….
Look! The Maple Tree grows leaves!
The Plants are planted.
The Water runs from the top of the hills.
It becomes medicine.”
Onondaga Chief Paul Waterman
13 Strings of Wampum. 13 Moons
It was bright and sunny when I took Kelly for a walk today. I believe that the weather has given him more energy than usual. On a calm day, he is more active and moves at a greater speed than any canine his age in the world's history. I let him take the lead, and he notices I am moving slow and is patient with my pace. He runs circles around me, stopping short up in front of me for an occasional pet on the head.
Clearly, we will have more cold weather in the weeks to come. As warm as it was in the sunlight, and how much easier it is to walk in the fields where the snow has melted, it was colder at the edge of the pines. There is still a thick level of snow, topped with a thick crust. The crunch under my feet alerts every blue jay keeping watch from their stations in the trees.
My foot went into extra-deep with one step. By the time my foot was out of this new hole, Kelly was by my side. He heard a small flow of water located in that hole, and drank his fill. When we got back out into the sun shine, I saw a small dandelion at the edge of the water flowing down the hill. It reminded me of the song that Paul taught me years ago.
That was around the same time when I was attending a “Green Psychology” course at the state university. There are a number of good books on the topic. My favorite is Ralph Metzner's “Green Psychology: Transforming Our Relationship to the Earth.” Metzner, who worked at Harvard in the 1960s, has authored several outstanding books. In this one, he focuses on the mental/physical advantages of being in touch with the Natural World, and the dangers of living separate from the Earth.
I think about this as Kelly and I head home, for him to take an afternoon nap. It is the same message, found in a thousand year old song, and in a book published a couple decades ago. I'm fortunate that “nature” surrounds me here, and even a short walk in the sun does me good. In these strange and exhausting times, I hope that everyone can access the healing power of nature.
Peace,
H2O Man
= new reply since forum marked as read
And how lucky we are to hear it.
Someone (Emerson?) said in wildness is the preservation of the world. It is so true.
I always feel more tranquil after walking along the beach, or in a park with shrubs and trees.
Thank you for your beautiful and necessary post.
Thank you. 
4 day walkabout in April, for the week of my 71st birthday. I made the inn reservations last night.
This area used to be predominantly military property, protecting the West Coast and San Francisco Bay from enemies across the Pacific. The hills and cliffs are honeycombed with military ruins, old gun emplacements, and barracks forts. It's now all part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.
I went out on Saturday to stitch together trails I can take to get from place to place on my backpacking trip. I've covered part of the territory, but I still needed to figure out some of the logistics.
As I hiked up the trails and log stairways, the green mountains and valleys stretched out before me, and the Pacific went all the way to the horizon. Hill 88 occupies a spot at the very top of the range; it's an old radar command station for the nuclear-tipped Nike missile bases that embedded the hills. There's one Nike base where you can go down into the bunker and stand right next to the missiles. They bring a missile up to the surface and pose it into launch position. However you feel about this stuff, it's an impressive display of Cold War might and technology.
After I struggled up to the ruins of the radar command post at the top of Hill 88, I started paying attention to a couple of huge, healthy ravens who were occupying the property. Crows and ravens fascinate me, and I feel kind of a kinship with them. This spook base is their home now.
I made my way to a steep concrete stairway that went down to another ruined building. I hadn't planned to go down, but the raven landed on a step in front of me, and then started hopping down the stairs, one after another. I imagined that it was leading me down, so I followed it to the bottom. We occupied the same space at the bottom for awhile; then it started hopping its way back up the stairs. I let it lead me to the top. I stood next to it on the grass swale; it cawed at me, and flew off on a crow mission.
The wind was so strong on some of the hilltops that I had to lean into it to prevent being blown over. It was a clear, sunny day, and I felt like the cool Pacific air was cleansing my mind and blood and body. I figured out how to connect with the trails that'll take me to my destinations. It was a good day to be out and alive.
Peace, peace, peace
It is refreshing
KY............
