This week a hawk took one of our chickens in the garden. I was sorry to lose the chicken, but my heart is in awe of the hawk, and again and again I find the oppressive heat of this early September summer pierced by Ursula le Guin’s words:
Only in silence the word,
Only in dark the light,
Only in dying life:
Bright the hawk’s flight
On the empty sky.
Bookmarking this post of yours to come back and read again; your words nourish my heart.
Thank you so much Jan, I appreciate your kind words, and sharing this beauty from Ursula. I can imagine the dual feeling of loss and awe - nature is a powerful reminder that it is possible to hold two big emotions at once!
It is always such a pleasure to read your writing Natalie. Thank you for taking me/us on a journey into not only the outer depths of the wild, but to our inner depths as well.
On Wednesday afternoon I took a long overdue saunter with my very best friend. We've been through a lot in the past two years -- losing my dad, our children graduating + reaching adulthood...and of course, the state of the world.
As we walked the path I glanced to my side and a great blue heron stood in the center of the wide, shallow creek. We stopped and stood stone still. The heron raised her grey-blue wings, bending them into an arch and she lifted off and glided across the surface of the water in absolute silence. For one moment, all that was 'weighing on [our] hearts' was also lifted.♡
Oh Jessica, thank you for sharing such beauty - I watched it all happen in my minds eye as I read your words and instantly felt the same weightlessness and grace. Such beauty.
Natalie...I enjoyed the recorded reading of this post this a.m. - my husband is a painter and watching him work is so soothing. I'm certain readers will enjoy your video (and voice)!
Yesterday I wrote a short essay describing my experience w/ the heron if you'd like to read it. Thank you for inspiring me to share. ✨
The wild shouted at me this last week Natalie, loud and clear I heard the words, ‘stop where you are, don’t think why just do, you are drifting too quickly to a place you don’t belong far from wild... a place you have been before and you know how it treated you. Stop right now!’
I know what she speaks of and the debilitating result of ignoring her words but know not (yet) the escape... I wait for her words to return, I listen... I am listening.
Thank you for always giving hope that her answers are the only answers... xx
Oh Susie, that shout! That you were open and receptive to it is no small thing, and shows the connection you have and are fostering. What a gift. I hope you can find that path she is urging you towards, I am sure it is eager to have you treading it.
I have noticed the shift in energy this week Natalie and as you so beautifully observe that sense of being in between something. Knowing yet not knowing at the same time. Still yet agitated. The light and the dark. Waiting for something to drop in and doing my best to surrender to it all. I do feel like nature, in particular animals are communicating with us more this week too. 🙏
Oh I am so interested to read this Louise, thank you for sharing! There are times when there is such a strong sense of liminality, and I feel like I am missing the skills to navigate it gracefully and intentionally. Listening and watching and pondering is the best I can do right now, and I hope it is enough.
I wish I had a way to listen to your words. It so difficult for my to read like other. My ability to focus and read visually has been taken from me I can skim things,but a large page of text is lost on me. I read with my ears now, mostly. This week , the wildest thing I saw was a pigeon eating seeds from my carport. We will see what this week brings.
I understand Tamara - thank you for sharing. I will be recording some of my posts as voice overs to my working - either painting or drawing. This is one that I will do - there will be a new post with me reading this on Sunday. I am sure the pigeons were very appreciative of your seed sharing!
So beautiful, Natalie, thank you for this! I have been encountering coyotes so much this week, after noting their absence for the last year or so. I even had one sidle up next to me and join me on my morning walk for a few minutes. I felt so honored!
Oh my stars Jenna, to have a wild being walk with you like that, an honour indeed! Thank you for sharing - for a moment I was in your shoes with this gorgeous trickster being keeping pace and it felt incredible!
I love that, Natalie! I got a quick picture of this gorgeous trickster as she walked beside me. I'll post it in notes so you can even more deeply connect with her (I still don't know to attach images in comments 🤪).
Beautiful poetry. Beautiful prose. Love the line: "My wound is the time I did not spend in love with the wild." It makes me think of Untamed by Glennon Doyle, a celebration of recognizing our own wildness. <3 <3 <3
Thank you so much dear Kathryn, I so appreciate your kind words. I really enjoyed reading that book when it came out actually - I should read it again! Just the word "untamed' feels so powerful to me.
This week a hawk took one of our chickens in the garden. I was sorry to lose the chicken, but my heart is in awe of the hawk, and again and again I find the oppressive heat of this early September summer pierced by Ursula le Guin’s words:
Only in silence the word,
Only in dark the light,
Only in dying life:
Bright the hawk’s flight
On the empty sky.
Bookmarking this post of yours to come back and read again; your words nourish my heart.
Thank you so much Jan, I appreciate your kind words, and sharing this beauty from Ursula. I can imagine the dual feeling of loss and awe - nature is a powerful reminder that it is possible to hold two big emotions at once!
Thank you. The wild calls to me, in my heart, in my pelvis, come home. You are missed.
Yes Joan! This is beautiful, thank you!
Lovely! And so similar to what I recently wrote about (though not nearly as elegantly) in my post on Orwell’s “Golden Country.”
Thank you Arnie - I will go have a peak!
It is always such a pleasure to read your writing Natalie. Thank you for taking me/us on a journey into not only the outer depths of the wild, but to our inner depths as well.
I so appreciate you (and your kind words) xx
Beautiful words & images Natalie!
On Wednesday afternoon I took a long overdue saunter with my very best friend. We've been through a lot in the past two years -- losing my dad, our children graduating + reaching adulthood...and of course, the state of the world.
As we walked the path I glanced to my side and a great blue heron stood in the center of the wide, shallow creek. We stopped and stood stone still. The heron raised her grey-blue wings, bending them into an arch and she lifted off and glided across the surface of the water in absolute silence. For one moment, all that was 'weighing on [our] hearts' was also lifted.♡
Oh Jessica, thank you for sharing such beauty - I watched it all happen in my minds eye as I read your words and instantly felt the same weightlessness and grace. Such beauty.
Natalie...I enjoyed the recorded reading of this post this a.m. - my husband is a painter and watching him work is so soothing. I'm certain readers will enjoy your video (and voice)!
Yesterday I wrote a short essay describing my experience w/ the heron if you'd like to read it. Thank you for inspiring me to share. ✨
Oh, that sounds wonderful! I am off to check it out now!
The wild shouted at me this last week Natalie, loud and clear I heard the words, ‘stop where you are, don’t think why just do, you are drifting too quickly to a place you don’t belong far from wild... a place you have been before and you know how it treated you. Stop right now!’
I know what she speaks of and the debilitating result of ignoring her words but know not (yet) the escape... I wait for her words to return, I listen... I am listening.
Thank you for always giving hope that her answers are the only answers... xx
Oh Susie, that shout! That you were open and receptive to it is no small thing, and shows the connection you have and are fostering. What a gift. I hope you can find that path she is urging you towards, I am sure it is eager to have you treading it.
I have noticed the shift in energy this week Natalie and as you so beautifully observe that sense of being in between something. Knowing yet not knowing at the same time. Still yet agitated. The light and the dark. Waiting for something to drop in and doing my best to surrender to it all. I do feel like nature, in particular animals are communicating with us more this week too. 🙏
Oh I am so interested to read this Louise, thank you for sharing! There are times when there is such a strong sense of liminality, and I feel like I am missing the skills to navigate it gracefully and intentionally. Listening and watching and pondering is the best I can do right now, and I hope it is enough.
I wish I had a way to listen to your words. It so difficult for my to read like other. My ability to focus and read visually has been taken from me I can skim things,but a large page of text is lost on me. I read with my ears now, mostly. This week , the wildest thing I saw was a pigeon eating seeds from my carport. We will see what this week brings.
I understand Tamara - thank you for sharing. I will be recording some of my posts as voice overs to my working - either painting or drawing. This is one that I will do - there will be a new post with me reading this on Sunday. I am sure the pigeons were very appreciative of your seed sharing!
So beautiful, Natalie, thank you for this! I have been encountering coyotes so much this week, after noting their absence for the last year or so. I even had one sidle up next to me and join me on my morning walk for a few minutes. I felt so honored!
Oh my stars Jenna, to have a wild being walk with you like that, an honour indeed! Thank you for sharing - for a moment I was in your shoes with this gorgeous trickster being keeping pace and it felt incredible!
I love that, Natalie! I got a quick picture of this gorgeous trickster as she walked beside me. I'll post it in notes so you can even more deeply connect with her (I still don't know to attach images in comments 🤪).
Oh excellent, I will go look! (You can't post pics here in comments yet, which seems a little silly, but anyway!)
Beautiful poetry. Beautiful prose. Love the line: "My wound is the time I did not spend in love with the wild." It makes me think of Untamed by Glennon Doyle, a celebration of recognizing our own wildness. <3 <3 <3
Thank you so much dear Kathryn, I so appreciate your kind words. I really enjoyed reading that book when it came out actually - I should read it again! Just the word "untamed' feels so powerful to me.