Thank you, Julie. I've come to think the senses might be the most honest way we have of honoring anything, they don't let you abstract the thing away, they keep you with it. The plant made me stay present in a way ideas never quite do.
When I first read about plant spirit medicine and then saw Elliot Cowan speak, I had wondered how people figured out the healing properties of certain plants. Answer: the plants told them! 😊
Thank you, Lana. That's the same gesture, isn't it, the first and best given back before you take anything for yourself. I love that you witnessed it firsthand; it makes the whole idea feel less like something I read about and more like something people actually live.
Thank you for this opportunity to see and think deeply Bill.
You put a pebble into my shoe…
My husband and I have put a lot of effort into our yard this season… weeding, mulching, trimming, and mowing. The yard looks more whole and put together than it has in years. Instead of looking at it as work, I continue to remind myself that it is love-in-action… caring for a gift from The Great Mystery. In part, it has helped me to feel more whole.
There are a couple of old-timers in our neighborhood who spend countless hours every week loving their yards and lawns. One has active bee hives. Every time I drive by I am awed by the bounty of healthy flowers, tasteful lawn ornaments, and… love.
I used to scoff and think it extreme. “Egads! Do they have nothing better to do?”
I’ve changed my mind about that. This is their outlet for responsibility?
I know there is a yes, and. We can have manicure and wild mingle beautifully. Thank you for calling attention to what is possible.
Thank you. It sounds like you're already doing the thing, letting the wild and the tended share the same yard, and that mingling is exactly what I'm after too. Most yards never let any wildness in at all; it sounds like yours is becoming a conversation between the two, and that's the whole hope.
Look at that gorgeous honey colored Black Currant stem tea, brewed with the slow-steeped words of the past. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate the taste of the season—by imagining those that first carried Black Currant roots or seeds to a new shore— becoming a very crucial part of the bounty of the land, the gardeners that came before you. By doing so, you graciously honor history and the fruits of your own labor. Writing the continued story of your own legacy and its relationship to the land. All this by emulating birds. This was a wonderful read, Bill.
This is beautiful. I hadn't thought about the hands that carried those first roots across an ocean, but you're right, every currant in my garden is the far end of somebody's care, generations back. I'm just the latest one to steep it. That's a lovely thing to hold.
Thank you! You should know, Bill, I never would have given it any thought if I had never read your post. Isn’t it such a beautiful thing that your writing came full circle, completely consumed by me, then back to you with a new perspective—a daisy chain if you will. I feel fortunate to be able to communicate with you about your photography and writing. Looking forward to your book!
Wow, this was beautiful, Bill. "I have bought a great many easy things, and I can tell you I valued none of them the way I valued that cup." is an opening line to something marvelous, for all of us.
Thank you, Nia. You've done that thing you do, handed me back my own sentence and shown me it's a door. I hadn't seen how much wants to come through it. Grateful, as always, for your eye.
I am reading "The Serviceberry" by Robin Wall Kimmerer right now and I enjoyed your essay all the more because of it! Thank you for your wise words and the ideas they have added to my understanding of the gifts available to us.
Bill, your words felt like a deep dive into presence and what it feels like to simply be wholehearted with what you are doing. Thank you.
Thank you, Sez. Presence is what I'm trying to capture on the page, and I am glad to hear that you felt it. That means a lot coming from you.
I love how your curiosity led you to this holy place of regard for that generous currant. Such a lovely read this morning, Bill.
Thank you, Laura. "Holy place of regard" is a lovely way to put it. The currant led me there more than I led myself. So glad you enjoyed it.
To make tea from all...
from black currant teacher bush.
To listen, try, learn.
...
Birds take their fair share
of trees’, shrubs’ sour, tart, sweet fruit.
Bill shares sage bounty.
The bush gives it all,
leaf and twig and bud and fruit.
Birds and I, both fed.
This was fascinating, Bill. What a lovely way to honor a plant — with the attention of all your senses and imagination, through an old culinary art.
Thank you, Julie. I've come to think the senses might be the most honest way we have of honoring anything, they don't let you abstract the thing away, they keep you with it. The plant made me stay present in a way ideas never quite do.
When I first read about plant spirit medicine and then saw Elliot Cowan speak, I had wondered how people figured out the healing properties of certain plants. Answer: the plants told them! 😊
I was in the Andes in Peru last summer and the first drops of a drink are given to the Earth in reverence. Thank for sharing your experience.
Thank you, Lana. That's the same gesture, isn't it, the first and best given back before you take anything for yourself. I love that you witnessed it firsthand; it makes the whole idea feel less like something I read about and more like something people actually live.
Thank you for this opportunity to see and think deeply Bill.
You put a pebble into my shoe…
My husband and I have put a lot of effort into our yard this season… weeding, mulching, trimming, and mowing. The yard looks more whole and put together than it has in years. Instead of looking at it as work, I continue to remind myself that it is love-in-action… caring for a gift from The Great Mystery. In part, it has helped me to feel more whole.
There are a couple of old-timers in our neighborhood who spend countless hours every week loving their yards and lawns. One has active bee hives. Every time I drive by I am awed by the bounty of healthy flowers, tasteful lawn ornaments, and… love.
I used to scoff and think it extreme. “Egads! Do they have nothing better to do?”
I’ve changed my mind about that. This is their outlet for responsibility?
I know there is a yes, and. We can have manicure and wild mingle beautifully. Thank you for calling attention to what is possible.
Thank you. It sounds like you're already doing the thing, letting the wild and the tended share the same yard, and that mingling is exactly what I'm after too. Most yards never let any wildness in at all; it sounds like yours is becoming a conversation between the two, and that's the whole hope.
I can pull many threads from your response. 😁 Much appreciation!
Look at that gorgeous honey colored Black Currant stem tea, brewed with the slow-steeped words of the past. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate the taste of the season—by imagining those that first carried Black Currant roots or seeds to a new shore— becoming a very crucial part of the bounty of the land, the gardeners that came before you. By doing so, you graciously honor history and the fruits of your own labor. Writing the continued story of your own legacy and its relationship to the land. All this by emulating birds. This was a wonderful read, Bill.
This is beautiful. I hadn't thought about the hands that carried those first roots across an ocean, but you're right, every currant in my garden is the far end of somebody's care, generations back. I'm just the latest one to steep it. That's a lovely thing to hold.
Thank you! You should know, Bill, I never would have given it any thought if I had never read your post. Isn’t it such a beautiful thing that your writing came full circle, completely consumed by me, then back to you with a new perspective—a daisy chain if you will. I feel fortunate to be able to communicate with you about your photography and writing. Looking forward to your book!
Wow, this was beautiful, Bill. "I have bought a great many easy things, and I can tell you I valued none of them the way I valued that cup." is an opening line to something marvelous, for all of us.
Thank you, Nia. You've done that thing you do, handed me back my own sentence and shown me it's a door. I hadn't seen how much wants to come through it. Grateful, as always, for your eye.
Thank you for these precious insights.
Just these words alone are wisdom to live by: "through the whole plant"
reverence is good
I am reading "The Serviceberry" by Robin Wall Kimmerer right now and I enjoyed your essay all the more because of it! Thank you for your wise words and the ideas they have added to my understanding of the gifts available to us.
Bill, I love this one. The line about the effort directed toward stasis really hit me.
With great admiration for your being, Bill Davison.
Gary, thank you. You show up with such generosity every time. Take care.
Wow. I love black currants. I’ll have to try making this tea.