On our morning walk through the fading cosmos fields, I heard the pied crows crying out from the trees in the distance. I couldn’t see them, but their call was clear as it rang out across the blue sky. These crows have shown up quite often lately, as if to call the winter in.
The dryness of the cooler months is announcing itself – the grass is turning brown, the deciduous trees have lost their leaves and the autumn flowers are dying back. Summer’s rain is a distant memory and in its absence I try to find new things to love in the present season.
We passed some crab apple trees while walking near the dam. Crab apples in their prime where blushing in beautiful deep shades of orange.
I discovered a trace of something interesting underneath the tree. There appeared to be wild hare droppings alongside the fallen fruit in the grass. Tiny bite marks on the crab apples on the ground confirmed their presence. It was a lovely surprise to come across traces of their elusive little souls because I love knowing that there are little touches of wildness even in the city.
The discovery sparked thoughts about the traces that we leave behind. The little pieces of ourselves left forever in the spaces we have moved through. The traces we leave in each other’s lives and hearts. The stories that mothers and grandmothers leave their daughters with are all traces of themselves.
What traces do you leave behind in your own life stories?
And one question that always comes to mind is – What traces are we leaving on the Earth?
I wish I could be as gentle as elusive wild hare, leaving behind only subtle traces of myself and gifts for the Great Mother who feeds me, staying within the balance of things and helping to keep it in check. It’s a sad reality that humanity has built its legacy off upsetting the balance, disrespecting the cycles Nature and raping the Earth.
I try in my little ways, as many of us do, to be thoughtful, responsible and to keep my footprint as small as I can. At times I wonder if this will ever be enough. Perhaps it won’t. But I choose to remain hopeful, rooted in inspired action and involved in creating solutions. All efforts, however big or small, count for something. They feed into a collective movement geared towards restoring our relationship with the Earth, a movement that demands different ways of doing things. This is how progress is made. One little step at a time. The more we add our little voices to the mix, the louder that collective voice becomes. With persistence, that voice inspires change and the right kind of action.
So I hope that the traces I leave behind will reflect all these things that I carry in my heart. I pray that I find ways to leave behind a trail of petals that touch, inspire and heal those who I meet along my path – delicate heart-shaped petals that are imbued with love and good intentions. And should they fall on futile ground, may they turn to dust and return to the Earth as a nourishing gift for all that she gives me.