Nia you come back so strong from your meditative pauses with such necessary and beautifully crafted essays. I keep bookmarking all your essays because I seem to reread all of them again and again and again. You shape me dear sister. You find me where I am afraid to look within myself. Thank you Nia, for speaking truth and power to these stories of our times and those of our ancestors - time and again, with such fierce love for this world 💜
You know -- or I hope you know! -- I feel the same about your essays.
And whew, Swarna, that comment about where you're afraid to look within ... I feel that so viscerally I can hardly breathe. It's where I seem to spend most of my time these days.
Excelent piece in the LA Times. Thanks for including the link.
Today I picked up seeds of Sycamores and Coralbean (Sophora secundiflora) from greenways around urban sprawl shopping centers in Sierra Vista and after starting them inside will plant such seedlings as make it to help restore parts of my forty acres of ex-grassland (ex-grassland because once overgrazed like so much of the West laidbare by unsustainable profit-uber-alles policies.
Thank you, Michael! That piece was a satisfying one to write. I wish it didn't feel relevant again.
How wonderful you're doing that. There is so much repair to be done, for generations, and the only start is ... starting. Seeds literal as well as metaphorical.
Your beautiful essay and thoughts reminded me when I was a little boy (hopefully still have some of that left inside me) and I used to take old coffee cans, filled with dirt, and plants seeds and then place the cans on the window sill and behold the magic as they sprouted and grew. Strong, incredible memories of something spectacular, especially to a little boy and still spectacular to an old man ❤️
Oh my gosh, I remember doing that too! My mom actually grew houseplants in vintage tobacco tins. (They leaked a lot. I hated dusting around them. It was a whole thing.)
The magic of watching a seed sprout, emerge, and grow never gets old. I hope none of us ever grow out of it.
Thank you, Tom! I tried to get a good photo of one of the red-winged blackbirds near the river specifically to send you, but they were too high up in the trees that day. It's interesting to compare my digital photos to those seemingly long-ago cheap manual-ish ones. I do remember not being thrilled at realizing that all my photos of Turkey were in black and white!
That is so kind of you, Patrick. Wish I could hand you a few of the leaves I've dried ... will pay it forward while looking for my own centering, as always 💚
Nia you come back so strong from your meditative pauses with such necessary and beautifully crafted essays. I keep bookmarking all your essays because I seem to reread all of them again and again and again. You shape me dear sister. You find me where I am afraid to look within myself. Thank you Nia, for speaking truth and power to these stories of our times and those of our ancestors - time and again, with such fierce love for this world 💜
More and much more power to you dear sister, thank you for doing the tough shadow work 💜
You know -- or I hope you know! -- I feel the same about your essays.
And whew, Swarna, that comment about where you're afraid to look within ... I feel that so viscerally I can hardly breathe. It's where I seem to spend most of my time these days.
Heart, courage, strength, sister 🕯️🧚💖
Yeah. “The past” is not the same thing as “history.”
Who was it who said the past isn't even past?
Thank you, Nia. Your essays are also seeds of acknowledgment and hope. 🙏🏻❤️
That's so kind of you, Greg. You help me keep them watered and alive! 🌱
Excelent piece in the LA Times. Thanks for including the link.
Today I picked up seeds of Sycamores and Coralbean (Sophora secundiflora) from greenways around urban sprawl shopping centers in Sierra Vista and after starting them inside will plant such seedlings as make it to help restore parts of my forty acres of ex-grassland (ex-grassland because once overgrazed like so much of the West laidbare by unsustainable profit-uber-alles policies.
Thank you, Michael! That piece was a satisfying one to write. I wish it didn't feel relevant again.
How wonderful you're doing that. There is so much repair to be done, for generations, and the only start is ... starting. Seeds literal as well as metaphorical.
Oh, Antonia, my heart breaks and I can only say—Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!♥️
Thank you! Maybe in planting seeds we can repair some hearts 🧡🧡🧡
Your beautiful essay and thoughts reminded me when I was a little boy (hopefully still have some of that left inside me) and I used to take old coffee cans, filled with dirt, and plants seeds and then place the cans on the window sill and behold the magic as they sprouted and grew. Strong, incredible memories of something spectacular, especially to a little boy and still spectacular to an old man ❤️
Oh my gosh, I remember doing that too! My mom actually grew houseplants in vintage tobacco tins. (They leaked a lot. I hated dusting around them. It was a whole thing.)
The magic of watching a seed sprout, emerge, and grow never gets old. I hope none of us ever grow out of it.
Beautiful photos.
Thank you, Tom! I tried to get a good photo of one of the red-winged blackbirds near the river specifically to send you, but they were too high up in the trees that day. It's interesting to compare my digital photos to those seemingly long-ago cheap manual-ish ones. I do remember not being thrilled at realizing that all my photos of Turkey were in black and white!
Thank you! I saw a Cooper's Hawk the other day, but the same. Way too far for a phone camera. I don't lug my big camera everywhere.
Thank you, Antonia. Your words, as always, are a balm.
Thank you, Rita! We all need some balms right now. Thankful to those seeds for reminding me of that. 💚
We planted seeds this weekend, and it feels like the most hopeful thing I’ve done in months.
Love that 🌱
Antonia,
If I had tobacco, I would offer it to you.
You have much to teach, and I look forward to your next post.
Thank you for centering me today.
That is so kind of you, Patrick. Wish I could hand you a few of the leaves I've dried ... will pay it forward while looking for my own centering, as always 💚
From nearby you in Saskatchewan, sending best wishes for all the seeds you plant.
Thank you so much, and the same back to the lands you walk! 🌱