Four years ago today, Mr. Endless Seeker and I spent our first night in our new-to-us house on this land – in the middle of the Covid lockdown, at one of the most uncertain times of our lives, of everyone’s lives. We had no idea what was on the horizon, but we knew that we needed to create a refuge for ourselves – a refuge that included plants and wildlife and all the goodness and that comes from connecting to the earth. It was a daunting beginning, as we stared at the expanse of green lawn and imagined it as a vibrant, diverse ecosystem filled with flowers and insects and birds. We dug in, literally, and began transforming a monoculture of grass into something else.

On this Earth Day, four years later, we look out on our back yard and see much of what we imagined four years ago, along with so much more. We see the diverse array of native plants – flowers inviting bees and butterflies and hummingbirds to stop by for a sip of nectar or to lay their eggs; shrubs and trees providing nesting places and cover from predators; and herbs and vegetables to nourish our bodies. We see a small pond, providing water for birds, habitat for fish and frogs, and the constant babbling sound that attracts birds and soothes our souls. We see places to rest or meditate and places to sit with friends and talk about the wonders of the world. We see birds feeding at the feeding stations and nesting in the boxes we have erected. We see soil and rock, water and sun; feel breezes that carry the scents of flowers and cool our skin, listen to sounds of birdsong and buzzing of bees, and sense the ever-expanding connections between ourselves and this place.

I’ve had the opportunity to experience it all at a different pace this past week, as I recover from surgery. I’m walking slower, mindful of my body but also more mindful in my observations. Senses in slow-motion. Covering shorter distances but absorbing the healing energy of all these earthly gifts – the intoxicating smell of the fringe tree flowers, the prisms created by sunlight on raindrops, the hummingbird sitting patiently under our porch as the rain drips outside.

Even as pain holds me still, telling me to take it easy, an irresistible force tugs at me, drawing me to the outdoors, begging me to come touch the earth, to walk among her plants and accept her healing gifts of life pulsing through our woods and gardens…

“Come”, she says, “be with the sweet, fuzzy curls of fern tips, the first sugar snap pea flower, the carpenter bees searching for wood to bore, the arching posture of a sawfly larvae, and the absolutely stunning, intricate beauty of a ninebark flower. Feel the earth under your feet and the sun over your head. Let me bathe and heal you and make you whole.”

And so, I go. I wander and marvel, and breathe in the essence of life on this land. And on this Earth Day, I celebrate four years of being here, of the making of Pokeberry Pines into the refuge and healing cathedral it is to us today and every day, of the diversity and artistry of plants and animals that inhabit this place with us, and of continued stewardship of a special home that supports us in so many ways.

Take a moment to walk your land, however big or small. Breathe in the energy, the life force, the magic. Take care of yourself, each other, and our mother – Earth.

Happy Earth Day, all.