Mother Moon

How grateful am I to see you, Mother’s Moon! I stand upon this iron bridge, spanning the stream that cuts through blooming flowers and intensifying greenery, and can only muster a sigh of appreciation. I am in awe of your brilliance. Like a loving mother, I feel both infinitesimal and infinite when I look at you. This year more than ever, I find myself yearning for your loving maternal presence. For it is you who reminds me that, after a trying, bleak, and introspective winter, there can be… no, there is surely rebirth. There is growth. There is life. This is nature’s way.

As your soft light gently illuminates the rippling waters below, I am reminded how important it is to stay in the flow of things. I must not stay transfixed by the fears of the past, I must continue to move forward despite knowing there may be rough waters from time to time. There are many reasons I could have chosen to remain frozen in this past winter’s harsh grasp. Never before have I been faced with such threatening darkness. And yet, like you, dear moon, there were reliable beacons of light orbiting around each of us, illuminating the path of humanity through the profound darkness of winter. Healers, helpers, heroes. I remain forever grateful for their presence. We are stardust, truly, and as I look up to see the first of our interstellar neighbours sparkling above, I know that it takes the darkness for our starlight to burn brightest. As reliably as the sun rising each morning, humanity has a knack for finding a way to pull through even the most daunting of circumstances. These are my inspirations. The shining stars in life and in nature guide me to step out from the darkness of winter and into the light of spring. Through their constellation of courage and brilliance, I am implored to embody the harsh lessons of the recent cold and move forward undaunted. And so, I walk on, in gratitude for your messages.

Some 30 yards from the bridge, I reunite with a friendly maple tree, who so generously offers up her life-sustaining sap first thing every spring. She does so knowing that there is an abundance of sustenance available, trusting innately that there is enough for her and for others. She is happy to share in order to nourish me, a mere weary traveler, who has suffered an especially trying winter season. Because of this gesture of charity, and so many other examples of nature’s selflessness, I recognize that I am innately connected to the abundant land, beyond even this park. The land recognizes me as an important presence in the overall network that sustains all life. Otherwise, why would she provide so much, for so many? Little old me, important enough to be nourished by such a majestic specimen as this tree. It beggars belief, and yet the evidence is rooted in centuries. I am grateful for your benevolence, sweet maple.

I can take but a few steps further before my attention is immediately drawn to the distinctive call of the cardinal. Never have I encountered a creature so dedicated to spreading the good word every morning and every evening. His dedication and loyalty are so beautifully demonstrated by his exemplary interactions with his mate. The cardinal’s bright red colour and bold voice is nature’s way of reminding me, I am sure, to never shy away from standing out from the crowd, and to raise my own voice and be a beacon for positive change in my world. I am grateful for his consistent call, like nature’s carillon song played for me twice each day, to sound a bell deep within me; the bell of truth about every person’s place and purpose on this planet. It serves me little to be my full and authentic self while hiding away for fear of being spotted. I am worthy of boldness, I am worthy of being heard. I am here and I am dedicated to make this place better and better, every day and for as long as I can.

The call of the cardinal fades as I step into a wooded area, where a nearby river has overflowed its banks, as it has for many recent spring seasons. I recall last year’s extremely treacherous conditions, when the water nearly rose to reach some nearby homes. The community got together as one to prepare sandbags and limit any possible damage, and after a few weeks the waters receded to safer levels. Seeing the river today, I am touched by the symbolism of cycles of danger and imbalance, followed by sustained periods of peace, calm and beauty. Despite occasional mistakes and mishaps, the river flows on, for it knows that by staying true to itself over time there will undoubtedly be more moments of playfulness and serenity to be experienced than anything else. Occasional periods of excess and drought are costs of doing business in this life, and like this river, I would not want to miss out on any of it.

As I turn and begin to make my way back home, I cannot help but think to myself that this park, this planet, seems to be hiding so much in plain sight. If only we were aware enough to notice, we might be heartened by all these natural elements all around us, and frankly, within us as well. I can hardly run that thought through my mind when suddenly I am met by a bright set of eyes peering at me in the looming darkness. A small animal hurriedly scurries into the nearby cedar, and I immediately recognize it as a brilliant raccoon. I know they get a bad rap for their renowned, let’s call it, persistence, but it is one of the qualities I admire most about raccoons. No other animal better exemplifies adaptability and persistence, in my mind. I will forever remember the day, one summer evening a few years ago, when I had the honour of observing a family of seven raccoons (I assume they were family, I did not ask), walking along the top of the fence in my back yard. Then, each taking their turn, they began to scale a nearby fruit tree. I observed how they worked together, as it appeared that the larger raccoons were climbing to the higher branches and knocking precious wares down to the ground for the smaller ones. I imagined the mother and father teaching the younger ones the tricks of the tree trade: how to climb efficiently, how to identify the best foodstuffs, when to reach for the prize and when to be more prudent. The lessons learned by those young raccoons were, in my mind, not unlike the lessons we all learn from our elders. The knowledge and wisdom passed down through the generations is precious. Though the end goals may differ from human to animal, the sentiment of caring for one another, supporting each other's highest potential for success, is universal. Whether we are physically close or find ourselves at a distance, we humans always have the choice to follow nature’s collaborative ecological lead, or choose the path of fear and separation. I am hopeful that, by attuning to your examples, dear Mother, I for one might choose love and caring over fear.

Mother Moon, I return my gaze to you as I now approach my front door. I look up to you now, a little higher in the sky, your light a bit more focused than it was when my outing began. Your presence alights profound emotions within me every spring, in excited anticipation of the coming summer. This year, however, is markedly different. I cannot deny the tidal wave of emotions that began to roll into everyone’s life these past few weeks. And yet, it is you, it is this land, and the reanimated natural life in this park, that inspires me to continue my personal growth.

I know that as long as there is breath, there is an opportunity for growth. I mourn every tree that was felled over this harsh winter. I vow to nurture the growth of a vibrant forest in my own life, to honour as best I can these times of tragic loss, and precious life.