Last night I had an uncanny dream. For years I have been working on behalf of the monarch butterfly, actually I do. My friend Sandy Stein and I were visiting what looked like a large vista that reached into the distance without end. It appeared the land had once been used as a farm, but its relationship with the land went wrong. I somehow understood that the elder, in the dream, knew crops were in trouble in my home country because there were no pollinators.
The old gentleman that I really couldn’t visually see, stayed mostly in the background, but he was consciously in my mind; I understood his intentions clearly. He knew of my work with the second largest group of pollinators in the world. The reverent elder was the owner of forests and fields that appeared to go on forever. He made me to understand that 40 acres of land had been prepared for me and the pollinators. I knew that he was giving me land for the butterflies. I was overcome, I could hardly believe my eyes, I felt so honored for my life’s work.
It was then, I felt him communicating, “I have admired you for being so tenacious on behalf of the monarch butterfly.” He went on, “You have been teaching the people about the necessity of native habitat for the monarch and other pollinators. Many times you were all alone in your quest. I do know your dream and am giving this land to you for the butterflies.”
I was stunned when I realized what he conveyed was real. I could look out into the distance and see the land was prepared for establishing a native pollinator habitat. I can’t tell you how honored and childlike I felt. I wanted to cry because someone really understood my heart and had made it possible for me to have this land for an intended purpose.
When I asked, “What will you do?” He let me see vistas of forest that could be consciously and sustainably cut to grow more organic food for people and still have forests for wildlife and plants.
Realizing his truth, I could imagine that people might now listen and understand that we need to live in balance with nature. Could the time have come?
The dream was so beautiful that when I awoke I wondered if I had had a vision dream that gave me a glimpse into the afterlife. I felt so blessed, humbled and longed to go to this place where I can live forever among the butterflies.
I learned something new a few days ago. My sister had put fresh flowers in an antique flower base, she keeps on the kitchen table, that one of friends gave her. This was the first time I had seen the flower. Ronnie said the Latin name; she explained it was the obedient plant. She then showed me how individual flowers on a stem could be bent in any direction. It was as if the flower had joints. I was amazed because I had never seen this before. She said, “That’s way it is called the obedient plant.”
I witnessed a new discovery yesterday. I watched a small bumblebee land on wild bergamot blossoms. The bee grabbed onto a tiny extension (like a stiff string) at the very tip of the top petal. In all the years that I have gathered beloved wild bergamot for cold and flu season, I had never even seen this floral feature before. Then with patience, the bee was able to work its way into the open deep cave for nectar.
I heard the wood thrush again and loons flew overhead, even thought I didn’t see them. I could hear them. Loons have a primordial haunting song.
Ronnie had to return her grandchildren to the other grandmother, who lived closer to where the young couple live. Ronnie’s son Aaron and his wife Melissa live quite a distance from Fitchburg where the old farm ( Winter Hill Farm) is located. It was the perfect time for solitude and aqua therapy after the hub was silenced. While entering the pool, I saw a tiny tree frog swimming in the water. I scooped the frog up and deposited the amphibian on the cement pool patio. It was so sweet to see the frog leap away. Then I rescued a green cricket or grasshopper. Last but not least, I was able to gently scoop a nondescript moth up and land it on solid ground. The moth fluttered off.
I read somewhere that Buddhist monks would move earth worms so that no harm would come to them. Realizing that worms help make soil, I know how critical it is to ensure conditions that respect our under the soil relatives . We gardeners relish composting and mulching. Rich decaying matter can be broken down faster by worms. Isn’t it wonderful to rejoice because there is life beneath and above the soil?
Be happy insectamonarca friends where ever you are.
Recently, there was a very shy bird that came calling one morning when I was doing a meditation walk down the hilly driveway. Standing in a level spot and practicing Tia chi , I heard the bird’s thrilling voice. Besides the loon and robin, this bird is my absolute favorite, even though I had never seen my winged friend. Later in the day, my sister Ronnie and I drove to various farms and private home settings, near her estate Winter Hill Farm, Fitchburg, MA. We went food shopping. It was surprising to learn that many country folks are raising free range chickens, either on their private property or small farms. What a great way to go shopping, two sisters driving down dirt and country roads in search of sustenance.
One such farm had a stand. Near the stand were two darling and different species of rabbits in a hutch. I fell in love. Recyclable rabbit poo for organic gardening, a gardener’s delight. We continued our wandering and traveled to Winchendron ,to visit another farmers stand. The little outdoor three walled shelter had the most beautiful display of fresh garden flowers, vegetables, and fruit. I called Livvy Tarleton, owner, the next day and asked about the basil I bought. No, Sunset View Farm does not use any pesticides. I wish you could have seen the beautiful sunny gardens in the background. The neighbors are on vacation. My sister has permission to pick from their garden while the family are away. Ronnie mentioned that Phil has basil; I may be able to make more pesto next week. I can hardly wait; I could live on it. Mornings I take a medicinal walk through the gardens in front of the house.
The 1820’s colonial house has an original stone walkway and door wide aged brick stoop with steps. The front gardens have extensive phlox, lobelia, fragrant lily, wild bergamot and other plants growing along the pathway. A hummingbird came to visit the bergomot; two small rust colored spynx moths nectared on colorful phlox. That evening, while looking out the side porch windows, I noticed the moon, nearly full. I just had to walk outside and be with her. It was a perfect still night and I bathed in the moonlight. This opportunity only comes a few times in the year and this was one of these special nights.
Be happy insectamonarca friends where ever you are.