Happy New Year...

My New Year's wish for you will be:

Gentle sunsets filled with peace and love.

Merry Christmas To All...

And to all a good night!

Finding peace..

It is mid-December and folks are dashing about to find the perfect gift, the perfect decorations for their home, or the perfect gift for the ones they love. It is hard to find the peace of Christmas in all the rush. I, too, scurry here and there with my important errands. And then there's the baking!

Tonight, after resting in my chair from the day's work, I put down my book and turn toward the tree. The top half holds meaningful ornaments and lights, but the bottom half is mostly bare. The reason? I have a Maine Coon kitten in the house. He's almost nine-months old now, but still a little stinker who stands on his hind legs and removes the ornaments from the tree. Then he bats them around the hardwood floor until he tires and returns to the scene of the crime.

This is peace for me as I look on in wonder at the soft furry soul.

And then come the gifts...

A few weeks ago a ferocious October snowstorm blew through my property like a wild thing. In its wake, trees were toppled and heavy branches fell to the ground. Hundreds of them! It was devastating to observe the damage, but after the melt I could clearly see the gifts that were left behind.

Now I have wood for several winters to come, and the animals have enormous brush piles to hide under. In spring I'll begin splitting and stacking, making new rows in my field where the wood can dry. The forest is thinner now and the warmth from the sun's rays will allow for new growth on the forest floor. It's a win win situation for me, and the animals that feel safe here.

Every difficult situation can become a growth challenge. And then come the gifts...

Almost Thanksgiving...

This morning I'm watching the turkeys run through my woods. No doubt they are heading for my bird feeders and deer feeding stations, hoping to find dropped seed or leftover corn from the night before. As they scurry past my cabin windows I am struck with passion for the animals who share this land with me.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. Here, on my acreage, all animals are honored, for their life is as precious to me as my own. Each one can live here feeling safe, and knowing that this land is protected for them. Here they can roam about, find food and shelter from the huge brush piles made just for them. Here they are not hunted.

As a vegetarian I will enjoy my Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. My mashed potatoes, gravy, faux wheat meat, herb stuffing, roasted butternut squash, creamed boiled onions, cranberry relish, New England Brown Bread, and pumpkin pies will satisfy my hunger. And I will be thankful for the lifestyle choices I've made.

Remembering..

Looking out my cabin window this morning I'm noticing the bare trees and how fast the seasons pass. As we enter one we get excited about what it might bring, but in three quick months it disappears. Then it's on to the next, and again we change our perspective.

Last year, during the autumn months, I took my annual trip to Maine. Southwest Harbor was bustling with life and, on occasion, you could catch a glimpse of the locals readying themselves for the coming winter. Rows of wood piles separated homes from one another, and it was easy to note which houses had wood stoves. Most did, by the way.

My days included walks on the rocky beaches nearby. I climbed in and around the kelp covered stones until I was too cold to keep going. Once, on the way back to my car, I spotted one lone feather sitting proudly for me to view. It was white and rested lightly atop the kelp, and it was gorgeous against its dark backdrop.

I looked for the feather's owner, but it could have come from any one of the eleven seagulls close to shore. Until, that is, one looked back and held my eyes for a moment too long...

The nature of outdoor life...

Autumn days are special to me. While life marches on for most of the human population, it also goes forward for the animal life on my acreage. We prepare for the coming months in the northeast by making sure we have the proper heavy clothing, wood for stoves and fireplaces, and shovels. (Where do they go every year?)

Animals, however, walk through these fall days making sure that their tummies are full, and they pay attention to food sources for the coming storms of winter. Squirrels are hiding nuts and seed from my feeders, chipmunks, too, are scavenging the woods for food, scurrying back to their homes with bulging cheeks.

From my cabin window I watch the deer and fox. They fascinate me. Deer coats are changing color, turning a darker brown. They blend in with the fallen dead leaves and deadwood on the ground. But, the fur of the fox stays a gorgeous red and their tails are fluffy, large and tipped with white. During the winter they are extremely visible as they run through the snow. I wonder why Mother Nature chooses to darken the coats of some and not all, leaving the fox vulnerable. A question to ponder?

I'll supplement rations for the deer this winter as I always do. Not too much, but enough that they know it will be there for them during the stormy season. When food is hard to find, and snow layers the forest floor, corn and sweet feed will cover the feeding stations at the edge of my woods.

One winter evening I saw a raccoon, a lone fox, eight does and two bucks, and a opossum, all feeding from the flat rocks near my cabin. At the same time! The birds, squirrels, and chipmunks had all found their night homes. And the wild turkey had flown up to roost in the tree tops.

What a sight. It gave me a Spiritual sense of knowing that we're being taken care of on this planet.

All of us together. All of the time.