Not a Garden. A Portal.
Transmission no. 07
Stewarding the land is an act of resistance.
Telling her that you love her.
Taking chemicals out of your yard.
Reducing grass and adding native plants.
Supplementing migrating birds with seeds because they are losing habitat at an alarming rate.
Growing food.
Leaving piles of leaves for the bugs.
Allowing things to grow and be.
Without Earth, there are no politics. There are no borders. Without our home, it all goes away. Dust in the wind.
The outdoors isn’t supposed to be a straight, sterile box; it’s a coil, a spiral, a wiggly line that loves to sway and move.
She is dirt and scattered seeds, and medicinal plants, some might mistake for weeds.
She can shelter you, feed you, and heal you.
What more could you possibly ask for?
We each have a role to play and part of mine is to steward her.
To listen to her and share what I learn.
To notice her tiny and her mighty.
To honor all as relatives.
To seek solace in her trees and to take only what I need.
Nature is brutal and sacred. It is gorgeous and gritty. Life eats life.
There is no way around that.
But there is a way to do it well. With love. With care.
Why wouldn’t she be our first priority?
