a week or so ago. On the far side of the B garden, near the Gate end where in the dry grasses, dry earth, a pile of manure and straw from last year's cleaning of the Doe Goat Shelter...that I'd hauled to the B garden on that tarp sled.
Today. I stopped counting at 67. So many more, hidden still under dry grasses. It felt like i was violating some sacred space to look. I quit counting. There are at LEAST twice as many.
There has been NO, zero, measurable precipitation since May. Northern California has experienced its driest autumn on record to date....paraphrase California Weather Blog.
Each spore is a single cell that is capable of sending out a hypha that will develop into a group and form its own mycelium. If the hypha of one spore meets up with the hypha of another, it begins the sexual process of spore production through special spore producing cells. bio.brandeis.edu
my theory is: They know. They SENSED that Rain was imminent. and so began, in order to be READY in the so precise moment to Just Go. So spectacular, to me, their knowing. To them, the Just Going.
Over at Deb Lacativa's house, morewgalo.blogspot.com, on her sidebar, for years....that i have noticed by the corner of my eye, today....in Neon.
By all that is sacred.
The breath and the breeze
The spark and the flame,
Emotions and tides,
The bone and the oak
The soul and the spirit.
The Circle is cast.
This is the invocation i spoke today on the Eve of Rain, on this Rim...a so thin rim of "season". I closed my eyes and saw horizontal ripples of a kind of spiral surrounding this Hill and extending, flowing out, quickly and returning and circling and flowing out again, over and over....Shimmering. May it be so
