Finding what we thought was lost

Discovering our place in the ecosystem is an eye–and heart–opener.

Here in the valley, it isn’t our job to dominate, control or even try to make it ‘safe’.

So that means respectfully living and letting live even if the consequence is the eggs of our lovely pair of Canada Geese feeding the hungry Fox family.

We were sad when our returning pair left the nest empty, and we found eggshells on the terrace above the lake.

And then…

On Thursday, the pair and two goslings waddled across the path in front of me at the far end of the lake. Slightly more than tiny balls of green fluff, they were familiar with being in the water and out of sight.

I can’t describe the glorious rush of joy that I felt!

But where have they been?

Hidden. Safe enough for two to hatch.

And now they’ve migrated to the old lakeside car park, to the ‘alpaca beach’, and are protected by the herd. So for this season, we give them a wide berth and let the alpacas do their job.

There are times when we lose what is precious to us, or we lose ourselves.

Not just misplaced. It’s more than that.

Yet often, this is also the invitation to step into a new space.

And who knows what we’ll find there…

RELEASE

I hold out my hand.
Nothing.
There’s nothing there.
All I thought was mine
has disappeared,
like smoke rising
through the trees,
or water running
through my fingers.

Letting go
brings its own release.

Breathing
reminds me that
I am still alive
in a world of
living dependencies.
And I am not here
as the saviour
of my soul,
nor yours.

+ Sue Heatherington

Go well, and go gently.

Pause. See differently. Re-story 🌿