windthread

it's time

it

like some kind of orphan

phone rang..or,  what it does,  and i didn't recognize the #,  but Detroit....?   It was  Jill  Zundel,  Pastor of the Central United Methodist Church in Detroit, Michigan.  Sorry to be calling,  but to tell me that Wendy had passed away.   They,  she and  a friend were at Wendy''s home and and had found things to indicate they should call.   There was an exchange.  and then they asked if i knew of any family she might have had.  No,  i didn't.  No family.  She was kind and also pragmatic and the exchange wasn't long.  She would be in touch.

Wendy.  Passed away.  Dead.  Wendy is dead.  I talked to her last Saturday.   4 days ago.  We don't do phone much.  But there was a space that late afternoon,  and i called.  She was her usual self as in the last couple years.  Nothing different.  Our conversation was also not remarkable.  Familiar.  

We do letters.  Many letters overtime.  We began together in 7th grade.  Then,  back and away for the next Life Years,  so...from 11 years to 72.  I was her maid of honor.  She came to New Mex once to visit.    In the last 15,  20 years,  we have cxchanged letters at least monthly.  She told of her life in Detroit  (where i was born)   working with the Swords into Plow Shares Gallery, with the Peace and Justice arm of that with a food kitchen.  When you call her phone the machine says " this is Wendy.  Without Justice there is no Peace".   

i have her last letter here.   The envelope has butterflies on it.

so the hard part today is that i can't call her.   Alyssia and Emrie were here and it was an ordinary day with them,  but off and on i was struck by the thought to call Wendy.   But i can't.  I want to call her and say Hey!,  what's the deal?  When i talked to you on Saturday,  and asked you...HOw is it for you?  ,  you  didn't say anything that let me IN on the reality that i wouldn't be able to call again.

i can' t call her.  I can't ever call her again.

i had sent her the pic above yesterday.  They weren't sure when she had died.  I dont know if she saw it?   She liked hearing stuff from here.````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

strange....?

they have changed position.  the woman on the left.  Earth Spirit on the right.   ????????

trying to say

what i was wanting to say yesterday,  using the word groping and then groping Everywhere....

i am making Self wide open for this....reminding self over and over that i need to be wide open to it to be able to see that the threads,  the SIGNS are everywhere.  An example is the pic that the NYT chose to print yesterday of the President of America and his wife standing with the President and First Lady of Norway....this,  a SIGN.  At first i just saw the figure of Melania Trump.  Stiff.  I tried to enlarge it to see more closely her facial expression,  but couldn't quite.  and i realized i was seeing something else too.  so i just stared at the pic....the posture of all 4 persons individually,  and then together at some important moment in the world playing out.   Just before seeing this,  i'd talked to daughter about how her son,  my grandson,  has really become a Butterfly in the last year and how chances of that happening 2 years ago seemed almost totally out of reach 

and then this pic in the morning news,  looking closely,  long,  i saw that the woman of Norway was wearing a dress of butterfly print,  how she was animated and leaning into.   and then i saw that there was a butterfly on the woman of America's Belt Buckle as she stood,  stiff.  frozen looking.

Signs....one after the other  and this is just a single example of how those Signs are offering up if i can catch them,  if i am open to them,  Signs to Hold me,  to keep me moving toward the LIFE that is wanting to survive and thrive in these dark days for the world,  dark days led by the President of this America,  dark days that we cannot go numb to.

and then the walking with the 3 other female beings of this Hill,  the little one,  not being able to get enough of the wild berries that line that road in profusion,  her face purplered from their juice,  her mother's fingers.   and going INTO the water and the wonder FULL woman coming up, pedaling,  not shy,  making me think that this is something she does often.  How she presented herSelf by just doing what she'd turned in to do...cool off by kneeling and gathering water in her hat,  leaning down,  pouring it slowly over her head,  smoothing back her hair from her face,  leaning down again and then again,  pouring water that ran down on her shoulders.  A woman  i think i'd like to know...that being a Sign too,  of the kind of person i would like to know...be friends with.   another kind of ecotone...a Free woman and the woman who walks with her root threads trailing along from her feet...touching edges for just moments 

and we saw a tree that was particularly decorated with Oak Galls and i took one to bring back,  cutting into it and seeing how the wasps had tunneled out when they were ready,  something lit in my brain about oak galls and i googled on this beloved machine here and yes, sure enough i was remembering right...great dye makers,  oak galls.  Sign.

there is another Sign....a truly amazing one,  Next.  about what happened with the stalk of  Red Aztec Spinach,  but that has its own pic.  So, later.

addendum:  and one more Sign....all coming withing moments,  The BEAUTY FULL butterfly that Deb G stitched...how she looked,  and captured the Spirit of it so Care Full y on her patch 

rocks. from Upper Peninsula, Michigan, Lake Superior....the "horse" rock. From New Mexico. from Alzheimer'sBetty, a shell

I   am groping.  Everywhere  i can.  Groping isn't really the word...it's too clumsey,  because what i am doing is not clumsey at all,  but  so CARE  full.   I am though,  going everywhere,  looking for threads   to tie in to what i have here.   Threads  that give substance.   

we walked Carefree Lane  and ate wild raspberries,  ate some,  a little,   of what we think is a wild plum.   Jenny  and I   went INTO the canal/creek.  Up to our waists, the water flowing and 3  trout.  A woman came.  Up on a bicycle,  Bags attached.  She was just there,  behind me.  And she said...did i startle you?,  i said no...i thought you were them,  with the stroller.  No,,she said,,,,not strolling,  but i am a wanderer and she bent at the culvert thing and filled her hat with water 3 times,  dumping it on her head.  She is my age,i think.  Free.  Her bike.  Stuff in bags.  

regions of transition between two biological communities. ecotones. Starhawk.

on 7~11  Beth commented  Sending me to  the book The Fifth Sacred Thing.  Starhawk....   Saying:  "i know you don't read a lot of fiction"

and i followed her thread from there to a UTube  Permaculture and the Sacred:  A conversation with Starhawk  where i came to the word i'd been searching for for months now.....ecotones.....such a simple word...but i couldn't connect the thread but now,  through all this i have...Ecotones:  where things meet.   a region of transition between two biological communities,  ie forest and grasslands

and i went again to the Oroville Saturday Market and i talked to the young man who is so enthusiastic and knowledgeable and ENTHUSIASTIC in a soft and loving way,  and i got 2 milkweed plants for the Monarch Butterflies and a Yarrow  and in the conversation i found that it is $100 for a 2 hour consultation.  And i gave my phone # and email address and it was said that they would contact to come this next week,  Wednesday or Thursday .  A Walk Through and general consultation....I am BEYOND  happy about this.    And it is right at the point where we are going to let the Goats .....Run Loose.  Perfect Timing

treetoppermaculture.org

 

Beets. Golden. Detroit Red. We grow beets.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

consciousness

What if suddenly,  she had language?  Or,  the sudden ability to understand what i am saying?  What would  i want to Tell her?   What would i want her to hear?  What CARE would i take to tell it well?

Deb G,  beecreative.typepad.com has kept mending,  as she said she would.

Deb Lacativa,  morewgalo.blogspot.com is looking at thread, wondering.

Joanne,  Wednesday's Child,    jsuley.blogspot.com  finally got her green beans planted.

Michelle,  Mscomfortzone.blogspot.com  went on one her walks.  As she does.  She gave me a photograph of human beings,  watching and listening.  I looked and it occurred to me to see what it felt like to be Inside each of the 11 people in the foreground of the crowd.  I  closed my eyes and did that.  Went "into" them and just looked out from that inside.  I don't have words for what that felt like,  but it was good.  There was a gentleness to it.  and then she put some words that were from a letter she said she had written to me some time back.

"Your karma is the flowering of impressions  from the past,   the memory of which exists encoded in the neurons of your nervous system.  When triggered  each appearance of it presents an opportunity for deeper understanding and the possibility of escaping further suffering by being conscious enough to make a choice of how you can act, rather than simply reacting  in the usual way."

 

 

words later. when i am more sure of them.